Thursday, 16 January 2025

Review by Peter Raynard of "Our Fathers" by Michael Brown

 


In a world where on the one hand powerful men are abusing their position through predatory activity towards women, whilst on the other there are surging rates of suicide in men under the age of forty-five, it is important that we write to fill the picture with positive portrayals of men, by subverting the notion of what a "real man" is. Poetry has responded to this more recently, with books by Jack Underwood and Ray Antrobus gaining recognition.

Michael Brown’s Overton Poetry Prize-winning pamphlet Our Fathers is a welcome addition to this trend. Being both a parent (of a daughter) and a son himself, Brown’s poems convey tri-generational relations, relations with other men, and boyhood escapades.

The opening poem "In the Men’s Group" sets a sad scene of "a man whose wife told him he is a waste of space," and "a policeman sleeping on a blow up bed at his parents."

We then move to a short powerful poem "Shift" which is reminiscent of poems by Fred Voss: "The man made of shopfloor swarf put down / The battered gold and green baccy tin // The machinery in his head diminishing // At the sink his wife can sense the shift in him."

His relationship with his father is set in the family car, a place where measures of a relationship unfold. In the poem "In Late Summer, 1983" they are on the M1 taking Brown to live in another town. Looking at his father to "stare across the front passenger seat / at Watford Gap, or some other nondescript place he’d check on the map / to look at the way we’d come, how far."

There is a confidence in the variety of form and sound of each poem, such as in "Aqua Terra," with off rhymes across lines, such as skill, kill, flint, and microlith.

Finally I like the way Brown ends the pamphlet with the poem "Cot Song" about the birth of his daughter (who is now a teenager at least), subverting a linear narrative, showing the fragility of a newborn life, the responsibility of a parent, and the signalling of constant renewal:

          Little limb reaching up

         for some response
         from us, such Gods

         who kept you
         in the cosmos of your cot.

When asked what a poet should do in their writing, Louis MacNeice said "mention things." Brown mentions plenty of things in a short space of sixteen poems. He is rewriting what a man is, and what men can be, in a world where other so-called men catch the headlines for all the wrong reasons.


About the reviewer
Peter Raynard is an independent researcher, poet and editor of Proletarian Poetry. His three books of poetry are: Precarious (Smokestack, 2018), The Combination: a poetic coupling of the Communist Manifesto (Culture Matters,2018), Manland (Nine Arches Press, 2022). A debut pamphlet (a heroic crown of sonnets), The Harlot and the Rake: poems after William Hogarth, was published by Culture Matters in September 2024.

Wednesday, 15 January 2025

Review by Neil Fulwood of "Beethoven: The String Quartets" by David Vernon



Erudite without being pretentious, learned without being dustily academic, philosophical without being obfuscatory, David Vernon’s wonderful book, Beethoven: The String Quartets, whirls the reader through Beethoven’s sixteen string quartets, locating them in every possible context - social, political, religious, historical, contemporary - as well as rigorously exploring their relationship to the rest of Beethoven’s oeuvre. Vernon comes across as a polymath, an intellectual and a man of culture. That he also demonstrates wit, warmth and humanity is the icing on the cake. Beethoven: the String Quartets is the kind of book that sets the gold standard for non-fiction.


About the reviewer
Neil Fulwood lives and works in Nottingham. He has published four full poetry collections with Shoestring Press, No Avoiding It, Can’t Take Me Anywhere, Service Cancelled and The Point of the Stick; and a volume of political satires, Mad Parade, with Smokestack Books.

Tuesday, 14 January 2025

Review by Lee Wright of "Two Sisters" by Blake Morrison



Blake Morrison’s younger sister, Gill, passed away at 67 from complications related to alcoholism. His latest memoir, Two Sisters, recounts Gill’s heartbreaking decline into severe alcohol addiction, worsened by the additional burden of losing her eyesight. Though Morrison cannot directly live through Gill’s specific challenges, he empathises with the physical, and psychological toll of such a loss. 

Morrison’s half-sister, Josie – the result of their father’s affair with a family friend – is the second sister featured in the memoir. Her paternity was confirmed through a DNA test just eight months before she tragically took her own life. 

Another interpretation of the title is that it reflects two versions of Gill: one sober, the other intoxicated. As a young girl, Gill was bullied at boarding school, and ultimately died alone, curled up on a strip of carpet between a bed and a radiator. Two Sisters is more experimental than Morrison’s earlier memoirs, blending excerpts from his diary with chapters that explore real-life brother-sister relationships, such as those between Charles and Mary Lamb and Dorothy and William Wordsworth. This elevates Two Sisters from a straightforward memoir into a broader, more reflective examination of familial dynamics and the complexities of sibling relationships. By weaving in these external examples, Morrison invites readers to compare his own experiences with those of historical and literary figures, prompting questions about the ties that bind. Many argue that those who are stronger have a responsibility to help the weaker. On the other hand, there are opposing views that emphasise individual responsibility, suggesting that it may not be the duty of the strong to help the weak if it infringes upon personal freedom. Morrison maintains that ‘It’s what happens with addicts. They kill your compassion. For a time Gill’s drinking killed mine.’ 

Whether it should be a brother’s responsibility to look out for his sister depends on individual values, and the specifics of the relationship between siblings. Do siblings have a moral obligation to support and care for each other? In the end, each familial relationship is unique. ‘Sisters do go missing,’ writes Morrison. ‘They go missing in horrible ways, abducted, murdered, forcibly married, disappeared for causing trouble to the powers that be. And sometimes they go missing by choice, to escape their families or – as we’ll discover later in this story – because they’ve fallen out of love with life.’ Morrison’s decision to write about his sisters is driven by a desire to make sense of their lives and to reconcile with the past. Two Sisters is infused with a profound sense of sadness as Morrison also processes his own emotions and commemorates his lost siblings as if their spirits were peering over his shoulder, watching him type and reading his words. After finishing the memoir, the final few lines of enslaved poet, Phillis Wheatley Peters’ 1773 poem, 'To a Gentleman and Lady on the Death of the Lady's Brother and Sister, and a Child of the Name Avis, Aged One Year,' came to mind: 

          Methinks I hear her in the realms above,
          And leaning forward with a filial love,
          Invite you there to share immortal bliss
          Unknown, untasted in a state like this.
          With tow'ring hopes, and growing grace arise,
          And seek beatitude beyond the skies.


About the reviewer
Lee Wright has an MA in Creative Writing and is currently working towards a PhD researching memoir and film. His fiction and poetry have been published with Fairlight Books, époque press and Burning House Press.

Sunday, 12 January 2025

Review by Julie Gardner of "The Box" by Susan Jordan



This novel tackles difficult themes but Susan Jordan’s experience as a psychotherapist means that she writes with authority and compassion. The two main characters are Richard, overwhelmed with grief after the sudden death of his wife, Kate, and Kate’s twin Jo whose already fragile mental health is at breaking point as she tries to deal, not only with the loss of her beloved sister, but also with emerging memories of traumatic events from their childhood. 

The novel is written in the third person but each chapter focusses on one of the key characters, mostly Richard and Jo, although three chapters are given up to Marian, the mother of the twins and one to Fran, Richard’s sister. This shifting perspective works well and the unfolding narrative provides insights into how different people deal with grief and trauma as well as suggesting ways in which well-meaning relatives, friends and even professionals can sometimes get it wrong. 

The box of the title contains Kate’s ashes and a thread running through the novel is the need Richard and Jo both feel to find the right place to scatter them. This provides a satisfying framework within which the story is told. Jordan avoids sentimentality and while the ending provides a satisfying conclusion to the narrative, it avoids being too neat.


About the reviewer
Julie Gardner is studying towards a PhD at Nottingham Trent University, focussing on Silence and Voice in the poetry of Vicki Feaver and her contemporaries. He poetry pamphlet Remembering was published by Five Leaves Publishers in 2024.

You can read a review of Remembering on Everybody's Reviewing here

Saturday, 11 January 2025

Review by Peter Raynard of "Orbital" by Samantha Harvey



Set completely on a space ship, the Booker Prize-winning novel Orbital by Samantha Harvey (her fifth) melds the claustrophobic (as opposed to clashes) with the constant expanse of Earth, as the ship zips around in sixteen orbits. The descriptions of our planet are beautifully done, and you get an understanding of the different terrains, whilst accepting their common home. Inside, the inside lives of the astronauts and cosmonauts (British, Russian, American) are traced against this backdrop. The research that must have been put into the writing is exhausting – but never did the research distract from it being a novel. 

There is the constant paradox of a vessel moving at enormous speed whilst they are cocooned static within it: "They retreat inside their headphones and press weights and cycle nowhere at twenty-three times the speed of sound on a bike that has no seat or handlebars, just a set of pedals attached to a rig, and run eight miles inside a slick metal module with a close up view of a turning planet." 

I would have liked a bit more narrative to the personal story about each naut, but realise this is only a minor frustration, given their static station. But the poetic nature of the earth is brought out in Harvey’s poetic descriptions: "The way the planet seems to breathe, an animal unto itself …. It’s the black hole of the Pacific becoming a field of gold or French Polynesia dotted below, the islands like cell samples, the atolls opal lozenges."

I was surprised to see the book only getting 3.3 out of 5 on Goodreads/Amazon; however. I would agree with some of the criticisms regarding the limits of the inner life of each character but disagree with those who felt it repetitive – it was of course repetitive. They keep on going round the planet, but it is never the same view and that is the point. Our planet keeps coming up with surprises. This will be a novel I will go back to, as there is much to consume in such a small space, one spinning in parallel to the earth’s kaleidoscopic vastness.


About the reviewer
Peter Raynard is an independent researcher, poet and editor of Proletarian Poetry. His three books of poetry are: Precarious (Smokestack, 2018), The Combination: a poetic coupling of the Communist Manifesto (Culture Matters,2018), Manland (Nine Arches Press, 2022). A debut pamphlet (a heroic crown of sonnets), The Harlot and the Rake: poems after William Hogarth, was published by Culture Matters in September 2024.


Friday, 10 January 2025

Review by Jonathan Wilkins of "The Therapist's Daughter" by Megan Taylor



My usual thriller and mystery oeuvre is Nordic noir; apart from that I do love a Golden Age mystery thriller  I usually ignore British crime thrillers as I find them lazy, prosaic and trope-ridden. The alcoholic / womanising / heartbroken / secretive detective on a moral crusade is, for me, boring and a concept that it seems writers cannot avoid, so when I started reading The Therapist's Daughter I have to be honest it was with low expectations.

But the book defied my expectations. The Therapist's Daughter is an intricately woven, incredibly deceptive work that commands the reader’s attention.

My usual reading base is the cosy Royal Oak in Kirby Muxloe and on three visits I was chilled to the bone by the plot of The Therapist's Daughter. It is psychologically challenging as befits a tale about a psychotherapist's daughter. What an irony that the lead character, Caitlin, seems to be the most damaged of all the protagonists.

We are led down so many paths that at times it is hard to imagine where they lead, and that is the whole point, as through the multiple points of view and recollections of past and present, we are taken on a twisted journey to the final truth. Or is it? Even when we accept that we know the answers to the cleverly labyrinthine plot we are thrown off guard and off-kilter as a new avenue opens up.

There may have been a murder and a convicted murderer, but who is the true villain? Do we meet them at the end? Is a life-long love fulfilled or is it to be scattered into the air along with the protagonist's hopes and dreams? The misdirection is constantly bewildering, though never takes the reader away from the central plot lines. We have to discover our own truth as well as the characters'.

And there are so many characters, all so different, so roundly described and so easily shaped into the narrative. All are believable, most are easy to like, all have their challenges and faults, all make up the whole.

This truly is a "must read" book, well-written and easy to read. Challenging and welcoming, it interrogates the past and the present and as we career to the denouement, even in front of the Royal Oak's fire, we shiver and ask again. "Who was the killer?"


About the reviewer
Jonathan Wilkins is 69. He is married to the gorgeous Annie with two wonderful sons. He was a teacher for twenty years, a Waterstones’ bookseller and coached women’s basketball for over thirty years before taking up writing seriously. Nowadays he takes notes for students with Special Needs at Leicester and Warwick Universities. He has had a work commissioned by the UK Arts Council and several pieces published traditionally as well as on-line. He has had poems in magazines and anthologies, art galleries, studios, museums and at Huddersfield Railway Station. He loves writing poetry. For his MA, he wrote a crime novel, Utrecht Snow. He followed it up with Utrecht Rain, and is now writing a third part. He is currently writing a crime series, Poppy Knows Best, set at the end of the Great War and into the early 1920s.

You can read more about The Therapist's Daughter by Megan Taylor on Creative Writing at Leicester here

Thursday, 9 January 2025

Review by Tracey Foster of "The Path of Peace: Walking the Western Front Way" by Anthony Seldon



Establishing a path for future generations to tread in the footsteps of silent witnesses was the goal of Douglas Gillespie, a young officer serving at the front in 1915. Seldon, an author of historical books, had spent a long time researching the First World War and was particularly intrigued by a letter Gillespie wrote to his headmaster, expressing a desire that in the future, everyone should walk in the footsteps of soldiers of both sides of the war: a path of peace, a path of remembrance, a walk to honour those who fought for our future. Gillespie’s vision for Via Sacra gained some support in 1916 when his posthumous letters were published by his parents in the book Letters from Flanders. This was quickly dismissed after the turmoil unleashed on the countryside in the battles of the Somme and Passchendaele rendered it almost impossible.

Back in 2021, Seldon found himself at Kilometer Zero, during a pandemic, attempting to walk the whole Path of Peace. Recording the journey on his phone, he attempted to do two things, undertaking two walks in parallel: "One, through Covid-affected villages in the present moment, with flies and sweat, while trying to puzzle out the route; and two, walking a hundred years ago along the old front line, missing the flies and sweat, the fear and noise."

This is a walk that is unmarked, built on and bordered, a path that is hard to define, often blocked and private. Undeterred, Seldon battles along stretches of B roads, lined with ossified tree stumps and relics of war. He recalls entries from First World War diaries: "Here nature is disfigured by war. There is not a tree trunk which does not bear the trace of shot or shell; the bark of the pines bears gashes, other trees are amputated halfway up or cut close to the ground."

Seldon reflects, whilst walking, what the original aim of a path of peace was. Gillespie wanted hikers from both sides to walk this route to comprehend where war can lead. Seldon decides to ruminate on those he has offended throughout his literary career and concludes "it’s painful. But walks, like prayerful silence, can change us within."

Utilizing war poetry and archive diaries, the walk is undertaken with reference to strategic advances and losses and the personal correspondence of those that endured it. Kipling was one of those whose story parallels the sad fate of many British families awaiting good news back home. After pushing his seventeen-year-old son into war, he was later devastated by his senseless death in battle. John Kipling, inexperienced and naive, was an officer in the Battle of Loos, recklessly leading his men into a charge with a head wound. His death led Kipling to write: "I have many times asked myself whether there can be any more potent advocates of peace upon earth than this massed multitude of witnesses to the desolation of war."

The war cemeteries that line this walk bear witness to the numbers of silent witnesses who leave behind only a name, and for many more not even that.

Seldon finishes his work at the coast of Ostend still under Covid restrictions and worries that he may not be allowed back into Blighty. He returns in 2022 to cut the ribbon on his newly marked path where the word has spread about Gillespie’s Via Sacra, France and Belgium committing to maintain the route and add way markers: "A walk to enhance and deepen life, not to dwell on loss. A 1,000 Kilometer path along the whole Western Front, with people of all nationalities walking side by side, learning from the silent witnesses where war leads, feels like a drop in the ocean. But it is a drop which is becoming a stream, a stream which will become a mighty river, a roaring sea."


About the reviewer
Tracey Foster started off in a long career as an Art and Design teacher but wanted to refocus her creative energies into writing poetry and prose. After helping others find inspiration in the world around us, she took an MA course in Creative Writing at Leicester University and has not looked back. She finds inspiration in the past and the events that shape us. Previous work has been published by Comma Press, Ayaskala, Alternateroute, Fish Barrel Review, Haiku Foundation, Mausoleum Press, Bus Poetry Magazine, Wayward Literature, The Arts Council and she writes on her own blog site, The Small Sublime, found here.

Wednesday, 8 January 2025

Review by Tracey Foster of "Fewer, Better Things: The Hidden Wisdom of Objects" by Glenn Adamson



Reading this book reminded me of the adage: "Poets, we get it. Some things remind us of other things." 

All very amusing, but it doesn't explain why we have such an obsession with the objects we keep about us. While I write this, most of the human race is presently hunched over, worshiping at the altar of the flat screen, including myself.

Adamson investigates our need to accumulate and collect things and vocalize our appreciation of the world around us. He highlights the classification method used by Susan Stewart in her book, On Longing, in four categories: "The gigantic, the miniature, the collection and the souvenir." We name and claim large objects to bring them into our reach: mountains, oceans, planets and galaxies. We dissect and scrutinize our world down to the smallest cell or microbe. Then there is our need to catalogue and collect every variant until there are no gaps, and our desire to hold items once connected to our loved ones or historical figures. All these aspects make us human.

Our language is haptic-infused. Manual, manufacture, manoeuvre, we feel our way through life and have an impulse to touch objects to inherently understand them. The sixteenth-century art historian Giorgio Vasari said, "It is necessary to have the compass in the eyes and not the hand, because the hand works and the eye judges." Touch was previously thought the lesser of the senses, linked intrinsically to manual work and the lower classes. Helen Keller redefined how intrinsic our hands are to being fully cognizant of the world around us. Her book was the first to delve deeply into the importance of our fifth sense to fully see. 

Adamson spent time at the V&A museum and was director of the Arts & Design Museum in New York whilst writing this book. He is an advocate of moderation, reducing our world of stuff to just the essential or aesthetic. He explores William Morris' mantra: "Have nothing in your house that you know to be useful or believe to be beautiful." 

This book fully explores our relationship with objects, whilst maintaining a plea for living a life less cluttered. This seems a valid call following on from the excess of Christmas, the frenzy of exchanging goods and the aftermath of stuffing our homes with even more items we don’t really need. Museums are often guilty of acquiring masses of objects that spend their whole life in storage. Adamson spends one chapter exploring our multifaceted response to antiquities in museums, including paintings: "Any painting is an embodied moment of truth."

We bring our experiences and expectations when we visit museums. This can skew our reactions and temper our responses. Galleries lay out a default blank slate; cabinets are clear and clutter-free to allow us personal interaction with each object. Visitors experience a unique reaction, dependent upon race, gender, age and class, transforming everyday items into "cultural icons."

This book pleads for restraint when amassing items around us, a quick calculation of the carbon footprint we contribute to and collate in our world of stuff. Adamson is a believer of mend and reuse or, like the Japanese art of Kintsugi, the need to learn to live with the broken, as a memento of our time here on earth. The book is a call for a resurgence of material intelligence: as our stuff gets more technical, we become more removed from its creation: "Skin should be understood a site of intelligence." We should be more discerning with it. 


About the reviewer
Tracey Foster started off in a long career as an Art and Design teacher but wanted to refocus her creative energies into writing poetry and prose. After helping others find inspiration in the world around us, she took an MA course in Creative Writing at Leicester University and has not looked back. She finds inspiration in the past and the events that shape us. Previous work has been published by Comma Press, Ayaskala, Alternateroute, Fish Barrel Review, Haiku Foundation, Mausoleum Press, Bus Poetry Magazine, Wayward Literature, The Arts Council and she writes on her own blog site, The Small Sublime, found here.

Monday, 6 January 2025

Favourite Reads of 2024

At the end of every year, we ask readers to submit a micro-review of a favourite book they've read in the last twelve months. The book can be from any time or genre - the only qualification is that it has to be a book the reader found particularly memorable, striking or enjoyable. Here are the responses for 2024. Everybody's Reviewing wishes all its readers a happy new year of reading in 2025!


Kirsten Arcadio



John Marrs, The Family Experiment "is a dystopian thriller about a VR project that gives six lots of parents unable to have children the opportunity to bring up their own VR child for a year. A televised Big Brother-type show tracks their progress allowing viewers to vote couples out along the way until one is crowned the winner and allowed to keep their VR child forever. In a cruel twist of fate, each couple has a dark secret that knocks them out prior to the final vote, with devastating consequences. It’s a hugely entertaining and compelling read, blending dystopian virtual reality scenario with suspense using multi-layered storylines, dark secrets and tragedy, and of course, a sinister dose of dystopian societal control." 


Joe Bedford



Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace: "After over 150 years and the publication of several much longer novels, War and Peace continues to challenge us on the meaning and function of scale. Tolstoy shows us that scale is not just about size and scope but also about the complex relationship between the massive and the miniscule, between history and the individual. Ultimately, for Tolstoy, it is our tiny but powerful personal stories that make the great narratives of history mean anything at all." 


Kathleen Bell



Karen Joy Fowler, Booth: "I saw my bus pulling out of the bus station so headed for the warmth of the next-door library. Booth was on the shelf, a novel about the famous family of actors whose son assassinated Abraham Lincoln. I borrowed it on a whim, glanced at it while waiting for the next bus, read the first few pages while travelling, and couldn’t stop reading. It’s a thoughtful, subtle novel drawing on thorough historical research - and it’s sadly relevant to our times."


Laura Besley



Anna Wood, Yes Yes More More: "This short story collection sings and sparkles, shocks and delights. Some of the stories connect, but most are standalone, and all have a strong sense of place and are threaded through with a love of music. Wood's characters never compromise their uniqueness, yet also feel desperately relatable as they navigate their way through the perils of twenty-first-century living." 


Constantine



L. Frank Baum, The Wizard of Oz: "I picked up the first one having finished the Mary Poppins books and finding I wanted more - more older stories of fairylands before the greats like Tolkien and C. S. Lewis. Baum shows what great depth and majesty can be found on such a canvas and the stories are more silly and fun. I wasn't expecting to find so much fairy lore here. Nor was I expecting to find things that Tolkien must have been influenced by (the hiding of Oz from the world at the end of Book 5 may have inspired the hiding of Valinor), and Lewis seems to have (if memory serves) borrowed the one-legged hoppers for one of the islands in Voyage of the Dawn TreaderI wasn't expecting to fall in love with Baum's world as much as I have. Also the introductions addressing the children and letters from them are wonderful. Try it. Just for fun."


Laurie Cusack



Flann O'Brien, The Third Policeman: "Comedy of menace and the ultra-bizarre haunt this astonishing novel. Throw James Joyce and Samuel Beckett’s texts into a metaphorical black hole and it might spew out Flann O’Brien’s The Third Policeman. Totally original, timeless and darkly hysterical, throughout. Pure dynamite, honestly. What more do you want from 2025? Hell, on a bicycle?"


Mellissa Flowerdew-Clarke



Amanda Montell, Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism: "Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism by linguist Amanda Montell analyses the social science of cult influence. Montell examines the role language plays in the formation of controlled groups and cultish communities. Extending beyond the extremes of Heaven’s Gate and Scientology, Montell illuminates the pervasive influence cultish language has on us every day. From our Insta feeds to Lululemon leggings, #bossbabes to #beastmode, read this book and your fanaticism spidey-sense will tingle in overdrive. If you think you’d never join a cult, this book may show you that you already have..


Gus Gresham



Sue Thomas, Hello World: Travels in Virtuality: "In this fascinating travelogue / memoir, the author invites us to look upon cyberspace experiences as being as real as any other experiences, to question how we really see ourselves and others, to ask whether our identities are flexible or sacred. 'Just like our bony skulls and meaty brain matter,' she says, 'the hardware is only ever just the shell which houses a greater essence.' 


Felicity James



Kiley Reid, Such a Fun Age: "This is a reinvention, part-homage, part-subversion, of the nineteenth-century novel of manners, with Emira Tucker, Philadelphia babysitter, as central character. The novel opens with Emira accosted in an upscale supermarket with the white toddler, Briar, she's looking after, and it goes on - sometimes excruciatingly - to take apart social expectation and prejudice. It's a knowing novel about language, conversation, what it means to listen in to the stories of others. It's appropriate that I came to the book through the School of Arts book group, which was set up in Covid - we're giving it a rest now we don't rely on online conversations so much, but it's such a privilege to be a part of a community in the School and the Centre for New Writing of readers, and this is just one of many recommendations from colleagues and students I've enjoyed."



Alexandra Harris, The Rising Down: Lives in a Sussex Landscape: "This was my standout non-fiction book of the year: a beautiful, creative reinvention of local history. Focussing on a small square of Sussex, with the River Arun running through it, this is a book alive with detail and purpose. We go deep into the local record office to excavate stories and connections which run from past to present, across England and the globe. We look into the hidden lives of the anchorite, the rabbit warrener, the water bailiff and the architect; we follow William Blake as he transforms Chichester into his Holy City, farm-workers as they set off to Australia carrying their dreams of home with them, Polish settlers and Canadian soldiers. 'Everything was stranger and more full of life than I’d had the wit to imagine,' writes Harris, as the great political and social sweep of the world unfolds, in her joyful prose, from a speck of Sussex chalk." 


Tina Jay 



Susan Fletcher, Eve Green: "A beautifully written debut novel, and whilst this year wasn’t the first time I’ve read it, I wanted to include it as it is probably the most re-read book on my bookcase, and one which I would highly recommend. A story of love, loss and mystery through the eyes of a child, powerfully threaded together in a perfectly crafted style, which immediately captures the reader, through its poetic vivid prose and a need to unravel the truth. As the writer herself says, the book was signed with an agent, a publisher and a book deal within a month, and on reading it, I wasn’t surprised! Not only an engaging thrilling story, but a piece of narrative art."


Mary Ann Lund



Eleanor Parker, Winters in the World: A Journey through the Anglo-Saxon Year: "This book made me think differently about time. Parker takes the reader around the cycle of the Anglo-Saxon seasons, told through generous helpings of literature: from the 'fetters of frost' of midwinter to the summer solstice ('sunstede' in Old English) and back again. There's a beautiful, earthy rhythm to poems about greening leaves, bounteous harvests, the dying and regenerating of nature. And there's ancient wisdom in them too."


Aarini Mehta



Coco Mellors, Blue Sisters: "a beautiful story on loss and navigating through life afterwards, told from the perspective of three sisters. After reading the author's debut book, Cleopatra and Frankenstein, I knew this book would not disappoint and it is a book no one will forget for a long time after reading it."



Jennifer Lynn Barnes, The Inheritance Games: "a thrilling book about a girl whose whole life changes after being mentioned in one of America's richest men's wills. It is a book full of riddles and secrets and will keep you enthralled until after it ends." 


Sarah Moritz



Ewald Arenz, Der große Sommer: "This book is a beautifully written coming-of-age novel set in the 1970s. The story follows the thirteen-year-old narrator, who, over the course of a transformative summer, navigates friendship, family, loss and self-discovery. Arenz captures the innocence and complexity of adolescence with vivid descriptions and a nostalgic, yet thoughtful tone. The novel is both a poignant exploration of personal growth and a reflection on the quiet moments that shape our lives. Its relatable themes and tender storytelling made it a compelling and heartfelt read."


Shelby Paddison



Catriona Ward, The Last House on Needless Street: "Ted, his daughter Lauren, and their cat Olivia live in an ordinary house on an ordinary street—if you ignore the fact that the windows are all boarded up, the doors have a triple layer of security, and the reclusive daughter never seems to leave. You’ll think you know where this is going—until suddenly, you don’t. Told from the perspectives of a drunk serial killer, a stolen child, an avenging sister, and a deeply religious lesbian cat, this book had me scared, baffled, amazed, and completely invested. Nothing else I read in 2024 came close to The Last House on Needless Street in terms of depth and quality. The less you know going into it, the better."


Karen Rust



Gabrielle Zevin, Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow: "This book took my breath away. I've never read anything that so beautifully captures the reality of a relationship over time. As the reader, we know what Sam and Sadie think about each other, but they only see what the other says and does. As miscommunication and assumptions incrementally drive them apart, you find yourself shouting at the characters, particularly Sam, to say what they mean before it's too late. Not a love story, but most definitely about love. The gaming industry setting is uber cool and adds a layer of story within story. They should absolutely make this book into a film, and I'll happily curate the soundtrack for it!"


Maisy Summers



Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo: "I was intrigued to read this novel after absolutely adoring the songs from the musical, and it was a wild ride indeed. While the length was quite daunting (leading me to put off the book for two years), Edmond Dantes’ quest for revenge against the wicked men responsible for his imprisonment hooked me the whole way through, as his schemes begin to tear their all-too-comfortable lives apart. I kept a nice routine reading this, so as not to forget all the details within its page count, and was greatly satisfied as all of Dantes' carefully laid plans came to fruition. 



Xiran Jay Zhao, Iron Widow: "Inspired by the history of China’s only female emperor, the novel introduces Wu Zetian, who becomes a mecha pilot to get revenge for her sister’s death. In a society where the lives of female pilots are unjustly spent in battle in conjunction with their male co-pilot’s victories, Zetian’s miraculous survival unfolds into a spiral of revolutionary events, especially once she is paired with the infamous pilot Li Shimin. This book is very thought provoking, exploring many real-world issues within is fantastical setting. I liked all of the main characters, and their interactions embodied a wide range of emotion; I am looking forward to the sequel coming out soon."



Jay Kristoff, Empire of the Vampire: "An epic journey of action, revenge, love and justice begins as Gabriel de Leon recalls his enrolment into an elite monastery of vampire hunters upon discovering himself to be a half-blood. The narrative weaves together two stories of his past, relaying his first steps into becoming a silversaint with a much later adventure surrounding the mysterious identity of a young soul he is sworn to protect. I enjoyed the character development throughout the book, and there were many twists and turns that kept me guessing throughout. I would like to read the sequel soon and see what may happen to Gabriel and the others next."


Jonathan Taylor



Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine "is a beautiful, disorientating book where forms and genres mix like smoke. Somehow, it manages to intermingle memoir, novel, short fiction, poetry, horror, s.f., realism, children's story and adult nostalgia, all at once. It is all these things and more. It is joyful and deeply sad and I loved it."


Miranda Taylor



Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar: "This book takes you through a profound investigation of women's mental health. It delves deeply into identity and societal expectations. Plath's writing stayed with me for months. It's a haunting narrative." 


Rosalind Taylor



Muneyuki Kaneshiro, Blue Lock: "As Japan is only seen as mediocre in football, the JFU creates a project called Blue Lock where 300 strikers are invited, with only one who will be successful in becoming the world's greatest striker. The difference between this and a normal sports manga is that players are told to play for their own egos, and the story doesn’t depend on teamwork. I really like this series and the protagonist as it shows an unconventional perspective on football as well as being very action-based."

 

Paul Taylor-McCartney



Alice Winn, In Memoriam: "a searing, stylistically inventive novel about a forbidden and profoundly moving romance between two WW1 soldiers. The optimism and vigour of youth is utterly transformed by the horrors and brutality of frontline battle. A testament to lost innocence, enduring love and a timely reminder about the impact of conflicts still taking place today. Breathtaking." 


Nakisha Towers



Paul Murray, The Bee Sting: "This really is my stand-out book of the year." 


Anna Walsh



Jenny Offill, Weather: "Climate anxiety slowly adds pressure to the everyday stresses of an empathetic librarian. Offill captures the essence of everything ordinary and no words are wasted as she weaves her themes through pithy, poetic paragraphs. Wonderfully written with no fill!"


Lee Wright



Stuart Maconie, The Full English: "Following in the footsteps of J. B. Priestley, Maconie's journey is an anti-venom to the snake bite that is modern day England."