“Elly’s family are very open-hearted and embrace a number of idiosyncratic characters, Nancy, Ginger and Arthur who I really warmed to. The story has a good pace to it, the style fresh and quirky set against a backdrop of global events. I wonder if perhaps there isn’t a little too much going on.”

Anne R also sent her comments via e-mail but was still reading the book and was not “gripped” by it: “I grew up in Essex in the 60s and 70s but the Essex evoked here doesn’t sound very familiar to me.”
Margaret found some positive aspects to the novel, such as the good period detail about Elly’s childhood. But she could not decide whether the work was intended to be serious or amusing, as it had elements of both. She felt the Jenny Penny story merited a novel on its own. She disliked the references to celebrity culture, and found the poetic language “a bit much,” although she wondered whether the aunt’s philosophising was meant to make us laugh. Given that this is Winman’s debut novel she wonders whether reviewers have spotted the potential for the author to mature.
Janet had written a list of likes and dislikes. On the positive side, she enjoyed the linking of Elly’s life with major events, the childhood details such as eating the last teacake or watching The Generation Game, the interchanges between Elly and her brother and the black humour, particularly during the nativity play. What she did not like included the lack of explanation for Jenny’s fifty pence trick, Jenny’s absence for much of the novel, so that the reader lacked empathy with her by the end, the “too aware” child’s voice, and the writerly language. She also felt that Elly’s response to her abuse was not well-drawn and that she was, generally, a hazy character.
Janet also found it a cliché that Jenny ended up in prison – that for her was a “boring” treatment and it would have been more interesting if, for example, Elly was the one who ended up in prison. One word that crops up in many of the reviews is “whimsy,” and that for Janet felt apt.
Many of us felt that the second half of the book was much less engaging than the first, perhaps because Elly did not really seem to grow up or develop as a character. New member Josie wondered whether the abuse was real or imagined and although she read the first half easily, found the second half confusing. Anne L could not get into the book well and found the narrative device of the abuse rather too stereotypical.
There were some fans of the novel. Martin “absolutely loved it” and said he felt able to allow the author to take him into her world and experience it as she saw it. Although he found the fact that some parts of it were not fully resolved unsatisfactory, he now feels he could read it again. Rose too enjoyed it, particularly the humour and found herself laughing aloud during some of it, particularly the nativity scene. “I felt I was stepping back into my own childhood with references such as the Wimpy Bar.” On the other hand, she felt the ending tied things up too neatly, rather like a child’s story. Helen enjoyed reading the novel, although she found the abuse storyline “a fashionable subject, rather gratuitous, that didn’t really add to the story.” But she cared about the main characters and loved the humour. It reminded her of Kate Atkinson’s Behind the Scenes at the Museum.
Finally Paula also enjoyed it on the whole, although she didn’t like the nativity scene, finding it “overdone,” and also felt the author’s style of ending chapters with a little saying became an irritation. Like many of us, she had concerns about the inclusion of 9-11 as a plot device, as it is becoming somewhat over-used and trite.
For me, although I began by enjoying the book, it felt too derivative of one of my personal favourites, Barbara Trapido’s Temples of Delight, which I feel does the whole “eccentric friend, disappears, to be re-found in tragic circumstances” storyline in much more depth.
Finally we had a chat about what we’d all read over Christmas and I am awed by what prolific readers some members are. Paula read Kathryn Stockett’s The Help and two Kate Atkinson crime novels. Margaret recommends Conor Fitzgerald’s The Dogs of Rome. Rose read Michael Morpurgo’s War Horse. Helen read Beryl Bainbridge’s The Bottle Factory Outing, David Mitchell’s One Day and Maggie O’Farrell’s After you’d Gone. Janet recommends Mark Kermode’s (non-fiction) The Good, the Bad and the Multiplex. Anne L read some Kathy Reichs, while Martin picked up the last Harry Potter novel in a charity shop but “wished he hadn’t bothered” and recommends a biography of the physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer. He also got through several Ann Cleeves and Kate Atkinson novels!
Next month, as well as reading the intriguing Alone in Berlin, we thought we might do something to mark Charles Dickens’ birthday. Any ideas welcome!
Next month: Alone in Berlin by Hans Fallada. Tuesday 7th February, 6.30pm, Doolally’s, Marygate, Berwick upon Tweed.

“I admired the quality and depth of the writing, and at times slowed down to appreciate that a little more; there were some lovely observations, e.g. p62 ‘No problems are temporary until they are over. All problems are potentially permanent.’ I was particularly moved by the scene when the two bodies were discovered. Tony’s grief and the empty house that greets him on his return home are described in a way that is haunting and at times beautiful. (p147 ‘The house was an empty tank full of grief …’)

“There was also some rather sharp humour, if that’s the right word. I love the way Susan responds critically to the manuscript, for example to Edward’s description of the beard (‘Lips bulged through his beard like internal organs oozing through …’).

“The last part of ‘Nocturnal Animals’ – the revenge story with Bobby Andes – was the least strong, I thought, and more predictable. I was less gripped at this point, but still keen to discover how the novel would end. Having just finished the book, I’m still not sure whether I was completely satisfied by the ending, but it does leave the reader with much to reflect on, which is perhaps the point of it.”

For Helen, this was the best book group choice in recent months. She was intrigued by its mixture of fiction and ‘reality’ and how it would feel to receive a manuscript like this from an ex-husband.

Margaret also enjoyed the novel, finding the convention well done and liking the way Susan used the manuscript to reflect on her own life – although she found the ending of the Nocturnal Animals section, in which Tony talks to his dead wife and daughter, unconvincing.

But while many of us ‘couldn’t put it down,’ Rose found the opposite – she had to keep putting the book down because the violence was so extreme. She found the idea of “the novel as revenge” preposterous. But I agreed with her observation that Susan’s decision not to offer Edward any response was particularly powerful.

Mike was less impressed. Whilst he thought it was “quite a good idea” and “unusual,” he pointed out that for the framing device to work well, the two styles and voices need to be very different, and he did not feel that they were. AS Byatt, he added, is an author who does this technique well, even though he is not a fan of her writing. “It was exciting at first but then became silly.”

For Maisie, the character of Tony was well-drawn but not so much that of Susan. Although she was unconcerned about Susan and her middle-class life, she had to read through the novel to find out what happened: “I needed to know.” She found it fast-paced until around two-thirds of the way through, when the Nocturnal Animals plot became too improbable. “the end was less satisfying, but it was a pretty good read.”

Gemma disagreed. She found the novel “clumsy, clunky, paint-by-numbers,” and, wanting to be thrilled, was disappointed. She found the return to Susan’s point of view an irritation that ruined her concentration on the Nocturnal Animals part of the novel.

Jill was less than convinced by the notion that Tony, in a remote part of America, would ever allow his car to be run off the road in the first place, and she was frustrated by the way his character never dealt with his grief.

Paula enjoyed the novel, in spite of the chilling content of the novel-within-a-novel. She tried hard to work out what Edward might be trying to say by giving his manuscript to Susan and found the character of Tony very believable in his inability to decide what action to take. It was less gripping as it went on, she felt.

Janet enjoyed the Nocturnal Animals thriller, comparing it to watching a film noir, but hated being pulled back to Susan’s point of view. She did enjoy some of the use of language, however, such as the ‘diminuendo’ of the car’s speed and the description of the dead bodies as ‘mannequins.’ It was a curate’s egg, she added, where some of the writing was too self-conscious and literary. She wondered whether Austin Wright “really wanted to write pulp fiction but felt he had to dress it up.”

Janet, like Gemma, was disappointed that there was no final revelation and Margaret pointed out that if we often read a novel for the end, then perhaps this one did ultimately fail the reader.

I wondered, though, whether we were expected to ‘rate’ the Nocturnal Animals section or whether we were intended to see it as an exercise in amateur writing that was there to tell us something about the act of reading.

New year, new books – weather permitting, January’s meeting will be held on the second Tuesday of the month, for this month only. In the meantime, may Santa stuff your stockings with books and may your Kindle be merry and bright!

Next meeting: Tuesday 10th January 2012, 6.30pm, Doolally’s, Marygate, Berwick upon Tweed. When God Was a Rabbit by Sarah Winman.

Ann started off the evening by telling us how she got published, which she very modestly put down to a large element of luck, and how the Vera series was picked up by ITV (because their books executive picked up a second-hand copy of the first novel in the series in an Oxfam shop!). Then we were treated to a gripping reading from one of the televised novels, Hidden Depths, before Ann took questions. We were interested in the process of writing and it was surprising to hear that Ann never plans ahead, but creates the stories scene by scene.  This is what Janet calls a “pantzer” – writers’ jargon, apparently!

Ann explained how the character of Vera “blew in looking like a bag lady” and how it’s important that she is a spinster who’s never had a romantic involvement. We chatted about the characterisation – it’s refreshing to have a female detective who isn’t glamorous! – and whether Brenda Blethyn lives up to the role in the TV series. For Ann, she’s a great choice, although there was some discussion about how the North-East accent is not always note perfect. Reader Anne R praised the dialogue in the books, which she found convincing.

Landscape is very important to Ann, not just in the Vera novels but also in the series set in Shetland. It was great to hear how filming for the Vera series has brought alive the redundant Swan Hunter yard in Wallsend and created jobs for local people.

We had a sneak preview of the cover for the next novel in the series, The Glass Room. Paula asked what makes a good editor and Ann said it was someone who can point out what needs changing or adding to, when the writer themselves has become too close to the work.

On research, Ann quoted John Mortimer, who advised writers to write the book first and do the research later. Of course she is able to draw on her own former experience as a probation worker, which may be why the episodes in Silent Voices with the social workers were so plausible.

Janet asked about social networking, as Ann is followed by many on Twitter. She admitted “it doesn’t come naturally” and can be distracting – but she’s trying it out.

Ann’s own reading background? She started like so many of us with Enid Blyton’s mystery stories, progressing to Sherlock Holmes, Father Brown and Dorothy L. Sayers. Her first attempt at a novel had an upper-class sleuth with a double-barrelled name! (It didn’t get anywhere – reassuring to know that even maestros like Ann have first attempts they’d rather forget!)

Ann’s written a diary piece which gives Berwick a mention – check out her website on www.anncleeves.com

For a further dip into Ann’s work, listen to Radio 4 on Saturday September 17^th at 2.30pm, when Raven Black, which won the inaugural Duncan Laurie Dagger award in 2006, is being broadcast.

Finally – mention must be made of the chocolate cake, which was another star of the evening – thanks Kim! Doolallys also has the book list in stock.

Next meeting: Tuesday 4^th October, Doolally’s, Marygate, Berwick upon Tweed. The Possessions of Dr Forrest by Richard T. Kelly.

Janet kicked off with John Wyndham’s The Chrysalis, reminding us that for those of us who grew up in the 1960s there was no such thing as Young Adult fiction, so teenage readers tended to leap from Enid Blyton to adult crime or science fiction. Janet really enjoyed re-reading this novel, set in a post-nuclear society, and found it “beautifully written” and a commentary on some bigger themes such as religion and tolerance. (Janet, where were you last month when we struggled with Iain M Banks? Oh, yes…)
Helen passed around a beautiful copy of Mary Norton’s The Borrowers, which she first read at the age of ten. She was enchanted by the simple magic of the story and the way readers never quite know if the story is real or not. She wondered whether today’s child readers would be as attracted by the simplicity of the story as she was at a young age.
Ann C brought Sheila Burnford’s The Incredible Journey, which she read at the age of around eight or nine when going through that apparently compulsory childhood phase of loving anything to do with animals. Although the book is marketed at young people, Ann noted, it is not written as if for child readers. But she was still moved by the book and its themes of loyalty and friendship.
Margaret read Little Women at the age of nine and approached it again with some trepidation, concerned that it would be “ghastly” with a too-perfect family, full of piety and religious forebearance. “But as I was reading my critical faculties went out of the window and I was nine again,” she said – an experience that many readers also had when revisiting their much-loved texts.
Mike was convinced his favourite novel was Middlemarch, last read when he was 18 – until he tried to re-read it and found it “awful.” He gave up after 60 pages. But his second choice – Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World – proved more satisfactory and he found it still highly relevant today.
Many of us enjoyed being reminded of Anne R’s choice, Ian Serrallier’s The Silver Sword. Anne remembered “devouring” the book at the age of around 11 and because all her family read it, it held many personal memories for her too. Even though she was struck by the lack of writing about emotion, she enjoyed the humour and felt it still had messages for today. “It still had the magic.”
For Hannah, growing up in the 1990s meant that there was only one possible choice – a Harry Potter book. No other book caused such huge excitement when it came out – even among sixth formers who were aged around 18 when the last in the series was published. She still finds the Potter books engrossing and it is a testament to the detail in Rowling’s worlds that “every time I read one I notice something different.”
When Rose was at school, an American teacher blew into the classroom like a breath of fresh air and insisted on reading American novels, which is how she came to study John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath. This Pulitzer Prize winning novel is, she says, one of the best portrayals of American society during the Depression.
Paula’s favourite book from memory was Doris Lessing’s The Golden Notebook, and it reminded her of a time when she was gaining her own independence. Sadly, she felt it was an “in the moment” book and although only part of the way through, she has yet to find out what gripped her so much about it at the time.
I re-read the book I’d studied for French A-Level, Alain-Fournier’s Le Grand Meaulnes. At the time I’d loved it – perhaps because I was 17 and it was such a romantic story. But Margaret, who also studied the text, shuddered at the sight of “The Big Moan.” I expected to find the plot overly-sentimental, but in fact I was very impressed by its sophistication. Unfortunately, my French is now so poor I couldn’t re-read it in French and used a rather clunky English translation, so the quality of the writing was a disappointment. There’s a lesson – if you learn a language, don’t let it go to rack and ruin!
It was a fascinating evening which showed just how passionate readers can be about their favourite books. Sausage rolls and chocolates (thanks Janet!) not bad too.
Here’s hoping for some happy afternoons involving deck chairs, drinks and good chunky novels. Then watch this space for the autumn and winter reading list, which is not yet confirmed but is looking very exciting – and may even, dare I say it, please everybody. At least some of the time.

It was our May meeting, and everyone’s mind must be on their impending holidays because the general consensus about Maggie O’Farrell’s The Hand That First Held Mine was that it’s an excellent ‘beach read’. That’s not damning with faint praise; many group members found a lot to commend the book and even those who hadn’t been entranced by it still had some good things to say. And the mothers amongst us all praised how well the author depicted the joys and trials of parenting. However, some surprise was expressed that it had won the prestigious Costa Novel Award of 2010, raising expectations which we felt hadn’t been entirely met.
The book alternates between the lives of two seemingly unconnected women: Lexie in the 1950s and Elina in the present day. No one in the Group had been surprised how these narratives eventually converged, but that didn’t detract from our general enjoyment of the overall story. Jill found it very readable (which she hasn’t been able to say about some recent choices) and ‘an honest, powerful account’ of what it’s like to be a new mother. Barbara, unable to attend but sending her comments by email, was ‘carried along by the plot’, while Maisie’s response was to describe it as ‘a really good story’. Jacqui admired the professionalism of the writing and how well Maggie O’Farrell had identified what her readership would enjoy, despite the book not being to her personal taste.
Helen was one of the book’s biggest supporters, calling the author ‘an updated Margaret Drabble or Lynne Reid Banks’. She particularly related to the ‘awful and good bits’ of motherhood that were depicted. Everyone agreed with this, leading to some personal reminiscences about experiences like that of poor Elina struggling to cope with her baby’s overflowing nappy and stinky eruption in someone else’s bathroom! I was unable to join in with this part of the discussion, but even from my childless point of view I could appreciate the strength of the writing, which gave me an insight into why motherhood can be so emotionally rewarding. Paula praised how Elina was shown to have struggled but eventually got back to her studio to work, proving that ‘motherhood isn’t the end of your life’. We all agreed that the differences between parenting styles in the 1950s and now were well conveyed. There were also stand-out scenes, like Innes’ death, when Lexie wasn’t allowed to see his body, and her own death, when she regretted all the things she wouldn’t be there to share with her son, which we praised because they were so moving.
Our discussion turned to characterisation, as Anne felt this was the key to her disappointment with the novel: she ‘didn’t care enough about the people in it’. Although Barbara found Lexie ‘strong and compelling’, her verdict on the other characters was that they were ‘a bit two-dimensional’, singling out Innes’s ex-wife as a ‘particularly cardboard cut-out villain’. Paula found Lexie got more credible post-baby, and Jacqui liked this character. However, most of us weren’t entirely convinced by the restoration of Ted’s memory, and Anne couldn’t see the point of Elina being Finnish, especially as her dialogue didn’t reflect her origins.
We decided that stylistically THTFHM was a bit of a mixed bag. Jacqui liked the author’s writing style and thought it was a good mix of dialogue and action, whereas Anne and I were disappointed by the dialogue, as we felt that it failed to differentiate sufficiently between the characters. What we all agreed on, though, was the power and poetry of many of the descriptive passages, especially those about the babies and their mothers’ feelings towards them. The account on page 40 of Ted watching Elina sleep and musing on the blood pumping round her body was also cited as a superb piece of writing.
Everyone laughed at my description of this novel as ‘the opposite of a Marmite novel – it hasn’t raised anyone’s passions about it, one way or the other’. So I’ll let Maisie have the final word when she summed up how the Group felt: ‘There’s more to commend it than condemn it’.
I wonder how Maggie O’Farrell, if she comes across this blog like MJ Hyland did when we discussed her book last month, will feel? Her Costa Award will be compensation for any of our reservations we expressed, I’m sure.

This month’s post was written by guest blogger: Janet O’Kane.  Check out her own blog on writing and other stuff at http://www.jokwriting.co.uk/

Next meeting: Tuesday 7th June, 6.30pm, at Doolally’s, Marygate, Berwick upon Tweed. Discussing Consider Phlebas, a science fiction novel by Iain M Banks.

“I am a big fan of novels where things are happening now, written in the first person present tense. It pulls me into the author’s world and makes me feel what the main character is feeling. The whole reading experience becomes intense and vivid.
“I was reminded of Sebastian Faulks ‘Engleby’ which I read last year, and thoroughly enjoyed. Again a glimpse into the mind of someone slightly unhinged. Always a pleasure!”
And then Janet – certainly one of the hardest to please in the group – announced that she liked it too, praising the subtle writing and the use of the unreliable narrator. I thought for a moment there was going to be a round of applause, so rarely do Janet’s thumbs point upwards when discussing the book group choices. Mike, also a tough critic, found the author impressive, feeling she created ‘believable, Pinter-esque dialogue,’ and ‘convincing characters.’ He was reminded of the writing of Camus and also of the character of Pinky in Brighton Rock, a comparison that new member Rose also made.
And then came the backlash.
Ann also said she admired the ‘note perfect’ writing and Hyland’s use of techniques like foreshadowing, with regard to the protagonist’s tools. But, she added, she found the book ‘profoundly depressing.’ Jacqui, whilst also admiring some of the writer’s techniques, such as the flashbacks and the strong supporting characters, found the novel ‘flat, dull and repetitive,’ rather like reading a film script, and with too much dialogue. Jacqui’s experience as a lawyer meant she found the legal process convincing but thought the account of prison life should be even more brutal. Jill had nothing positive to say, finding that she simply couldn’t believe in the book.
Several readers (though not all) found the second half of the novel, in which Patrick is in prison, better than the first. Paula found the two ‘halves’ inconsistent and was not sure why Patrick opened up when in prison. Rose found the intense detail in this section difficult to enjoy.
Anne R would have liked more sense of the 1960s and found the author’s style too repetitive, although she found Patrick’s awkwardness with women convincing. Not everyone liked having pieces of the ‘jigsaw’ missing. Margaret found it ‘quick and easy, with simple language which went with the character,’ but said she couldn’t engage with the protagonist and overall felt ‘removed’ from the novel. She also found the killing itself contrived – and lots of readers were did not entirely buy this part of the action.
One review said that Hyland answered her title question of ‘This is How’ – but not the question of ‘Why.’ This was an authorial decision I admired, but by the end of the meeting I found myself in a minority. The quest continues to find a book which we all truly like!
An inspired idea for our July session, when the Book Group goes slightly AWOL, in a very restrained and literary way, of course. Thanks to both Janet and Ann whose great minds thought alike on this suggestion. The task is to re-read a book that was a favourite or made a big impression on you when you were young – and discover whether the seminal work still holds its magic. That’s for July – two more (undoubtedly controversial) choices to get through before then.
Next meeting: Tuesday May 3rd at 6.30pm. Doolally’s, Marygate, Berwick upon Tweed. The Hand that First held Mine by Maggie O’Farrell – and Janet as guest ‘facilitator,’ for one month only (unless she does a much better job than me, of course – gulp)!