Book review – Julie Caplin – “The French Chateau Dream”

June 30, 2023

Liz Dexter Book reviews , 11 Comments

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I’ve read a couple of Julie Caplin’s other novels via NetGalley (“The Cosy Cottage in Ireland” and “The Christmas Castle in Scotland“) and I do like a linked series, so when the publisher’s PR dropped me a line to say her next novel was available to read via NetGalley I downloaded it immediately.

Julie Caplin – “The French Chateau Dream”

(18 May 2023, NetGalley)

She took a deep breath and smelt the fresh tang of rosemary and marjoram in the flower beds beside her. Fresh start, Hattie. Fresh start. She lifted her chin and looked at the chateau again.

Hattie has left it all behind, as central characters in romantic novels tend to do, and rushed off to a French chateau to do the wedding planning for her cousin – handily bankrolled by her wealthy uncle. When she turns up, it turns out unexpected, she encounters the drop-dead gorgeous Luc, and while she seems to be going out of her way to put him off, he’s secretly as enamoured as she is.

While we learn about the workings of Champagne making and Luc’s “found family” in his great-aunt Marthe and best friend Alphonse, his mum and his devious sister Yvette, Hattie is working hard to organise the wedding and prove herself. When the town’s suppliers seem not to be keen to help she drafts in Fliss, a posh cook with four brothers who we’ve met before, and soon she and Alphonse are sparring away. But why won’t anyone supply the wedding, why is Yvette so combative and why does Marthe suddenly veto Luc’s plans to update the business when she realises the wine caves might need to be surveyed?

I liked all the details of the wedding planning and food, there’s some really interesting information about the role of Champagne houses during the Second World War which I’m going to assume is correct, and the shifting perspectives between Luc and Hattie are fun – another well-done installment of the “Romantic Escapes” series.

There was an amusing Bookish Beck serendipity example with this one and the novel I read before it, “The Scent of a Garden” (I am reviewing out of order to get this review closer to the publishing date) – not only did both feature side-characters’ weddings (common enough) but also both had croquembouches (effectively piles of small profiteroles) as the wedding cakes! Thank you to One More Chapter for getting in touch to offer me a copy of this book via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “The French Chateau Dream” is published on 30 June 2023.

Book review – Kimberly McIntosh – “Black Girl, No Magic”

June 29, 2023

Liz Dexter Book reviews, Social justice - age, Social justice - class, Social justice - gender sex sexuality, social justice - race , 12 Comments

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The last NetGalley book I read published in June but I’m reviewing slightly out of order to keep them in publication order (the hoops we make ourselves jump through!). I was attracted to this book by it’s theme of essays by a British Black woman who spends time wondering why the opportunities she has had don’t seem to be shared by everyone who looks like her. It promised back-up from policy and social science research as well as life-telling.

Kimberly McIntosh – “Black Girl, No Magic: Essays and Reflections on Living Whilst Black”

(25 March 2023, NetGalley)

I’ve based so much of my value in what I achieve of how people perceived me and … and none of it matters. I just thought – who cares?! And I can’t believe I never thought of it before.

The above quotation is taken from the end of the book, in a conversation with the author’s therapist which is recorded just before the acknowledgements. And this break-through means McIntosh was able to write this honest and messy book which serves to record an individual life and general learning points.

I have read quite a few essay collections and musings on race and society by young Black women now, but there’s always something different, and I think here it was the class aspect, although we have had that with Afua Hirsch. So her accent and the people she knows have afforded her privileges, she shares some amusing glossaries of posh people stuff, and she spent quite a while thinking that all Black people had to do was try harder and show excellence to be accepted and succeed. But things are more nuanced than that in the book, as she critiques institutional racism, the “illusion of inclusion” in which organisations practise colourism in order to make you think they’re for everyone while using only light-skinned women in their adverts.

McIntosh makes the point that as a younger woman, she has made all her discoveries and realisations online,, recorded in articles and think pieces, pieces which now won’t go away. There’s quite a lot about how her education taught her how to avoid STIs but not how to buy and take drugs safely and a chapter that’s half-satire and half-how-to on drug-taking, which does explain how to stay safe but is a slightly odd intrusion: but it’s her book of essays and she can include what she wants.

Lively, messy and open (but well-referenced), a good insight into younger Black female lives today, with the interest of a middle-class education in mainly White spaces.

Thank you to The Borough Press for choosing me to read this book via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “Black Girl, No Magic” was published on 22 June 2023.

Book review – Breanne Mc Ivor “The God of Good Looks”

June 27, 2023

Liz Dexter Book reviews, Social justice - class, Social justice - gender sex sexuality, social justice - race , 11 Comments

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I was attracted to this novel by the quotes from Lizze Damilola Blackburn and Nikki May and hoped it would be a smart, interesting book about a young Black woman’s experience. Which it was! The blurb reads it as a romance but it’s got more depth than just a “girl returns to home town, gets mixed up in a hate-to-love thing” with some pretty biting social commentary about class and politics in Trinidad.

Breanne Mc Ivor – “The God of Good Looks”

(26 March 2023, NetGalley)

I was all the things Eric liked – vulnerable, young, stupid. But better looking than before. Sexy without trying. it was all a performance, but hadn’t it always been? Only this time, I was acting for my benefit, not for his.

Bianca has come home to Trinidad after a glittering British university career to a plethora of job opportunities but a lonely life: her mum passed away in her teens and her dad has remarried and is distant. So she doesn’t get the benefits of her dad’s wealth and influence, doesn’t have the knack of making friends and is then vulnerable when a married politician pounces. How many other young women he’s done the same to she dreads to think.

Then, when the inevitable scandal hits, of course its she who loses her job and ends up unemployable, resorting to the toxic world of modelling, with only one decent photographer on her side. So it’s a good opportunity when Obadiah Courtland strides into her life, although he makes himself obnoxious because he dragged himself up by his bootstraps from a precarious life in the poorest part of town, bringing his best friend with him, and he has the usual impression of Bianca. Oh, and who is his sister involved with?

Written in alternate sections – which the author says at the end she had to do as everyone thought her hero was horrible – we get their viewpoints as Oby struggles to keep his make-up brand and magazine going (I liked all the detail on these aspects), Bianca is reminded of how make-up can be a mask as well as a tool, and they gain a grudging respect for one another. Side-characters Radhika and Dante are great, too, and it was very interesting to see the range of heritages found in Trinidad’s population represented.

There was a nod to “Miguel Street” part-way through the book and while it’s dispiriting that the corruption and violence found there seem to still be rife, I really liked this excellent work of fiction that came out of it. Trigger warning: there is a description of disordered eating woven through the book but also nurturing and recovery from a potential eating disorder.

In yet another a Bookish Beck serendipity moment, this was the second book in a row (after “Lark and Kasim Start a Revolution“) to feature the book we are reading being written as part of the book we are reading … if you see what I mean!

Thank you to Penguin/Viking/Fig Tree for choosing me to read this book in return for an honest review. “The God of Good Looks” was published on 22 June 2023.

Book review – Catherine Joy White – “This Thread of Gold”

June 25, 2023

Liz Dexter Book reviews, Social justice - gender sex sexuality, social justice - race , 10 Comments

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I spotted this book on a NetGalley email quite a while ago and was intrigued by it, the description stating that it reclaims works of resistance done in mainly private spaces, kitchens, churches and the like. It gave the impression that it would be going over different ground from some of the other Black history books I’ve read, and so it did, starting in the 19th century but with a lot of 20th century figures, too.

Catherine Joy White – “This Thread of Gold: A Celebration of Black Womanhood”

(17 February 2023, NetGalley)

It will always be important to speak about the oppressions faced by Black women, but This Thread of Gold is not here to occupy that space. This book is dedicated solely to Black women surviving, thriving and glowing. I learned about these women through meticulous and determined research, from my own experiences and from the storytelling of my mother, my grandmother and the long lineage of women who came before them. In writing this book, not only am I paying tribute to the grandmothers who have paved the way for its existence, but I am acknowledging that it only exists because they were here first. We are waling their path. They have woven the tapestry, painted the picture that takes us to where we are today. it is our responsibility to pick up this thread.

We meet a lot of remarkable women here, many of whom I hadn’t heard of, starting with American quilt maker Harriet Powers, a freed woman who had been born enslaved, who crucially described to the buyer of one of them the history of every block and then, having taught herself to read, left behind a letter describing her other work. This “thread of gold” is pulled out through the book, connecting women and their stories backwards and forward through history.

White covers such a wide range of women in this inspiring book – they are all Black women but she describes them as people of the global majority, and it’s pleasing to see that term becoming more widely used. She brings in figures such as the Kenyan eco-feminist Wangari Maathai and the French Caribbean video game designer Muriel Traumis, as well as people who are more well-known such as Michelle Obama and Hattie McDaniel. And while it calls on Black women to develop and know themselves, it does so from a position of community and support and asking women to be flexible, appreciative of themselves and their foremothers and resilient through “a thousand small steps”.

We need to look after ourselves and we need to look out for each other. Not by treating our friends to champagne or gift boxes, although there is a place for that, but rather by the simple act of holding each other, lifting each other up and working to dismantle the systems of oppression that exhaust, demoralise and overexert us. We need to collectively create the conditions that allow Black people to thrive.

She finishes the book, having discussed what her grandmother and mother gave to her and what she learned from them, with a glorious list of her wishes for her daughter, again steeped in community and organisation as well as self-development. An excellent, empowering and inspiring book for everyone, and a wonderful resource for Black women in particular.

Thank you to Dialogue Books for selecting me to read this book via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “This Thread of Gold” was published on 22 June 2023.

Book review – Imogen Binnie – “Nevada”

June 23, 2023

Liz Dexter 20booksofsummer, Pride Month, Reading challenges, Social justice - gender sex sexuality , , 19 Comments

A copy of Imogen Binnie's novel Nevada on a desk

It’s come to my attention that my using the same pile of books as the image for all my 20 Books of Summer challenge books (hosted by Cathy from 746 Books) might be a bit confusing, so here’s an image of the actual book this time! I’m reading 20 books bought from our local independent bookshop, The Heath Bookshop (find them on their bookshop.org page!). You can see the book lists and results from all my previous attempts here. I bought this one when it came to my attention as I think their first book group read (even though I didn’t intend to go to their book group) and it fell into my second book token haul – I note I have read the book I collected when I bought it, “How Green was My Valley”. I promoted this novel up the pile to read this month to fit into Pride Month.

Imogen Binnie – “Nevada”

(18 January 2023, second book token splurge at the Bookshop)

It’s always impossible to tell what anyone’s assumptions are. People tend to assume that trans women are either drag queens and loads of trashy fun, or else sad, pathetic and deluded pervy straight men – at least, until they save up their money and get their Sex Change Operations, at which point they become just like every other woman. Or something? But Maria is like, dude, hi. Nobody ever reads me as trans any more. Old straight men hit on me when I’m at work and in all these years of transitioning I haven’t even been able to save up for a decent pair of boots. (p. 6)

Of course I knew I was going to like this book because I generally choose carefully and well, but I LOVED it. Although weirdly, it was written in 2008 onwards and first published in 2013, but it really read like something I’d have eagerly read in the mid-to-late 1990s when I was reading loads of diverse stuff from Lewisham Library – it would have fitted right in then. I think it’s the punky, DIY vibe of the characters and their situations – and of course, being fairly timeless (apart from having mobile phones) it’s able to be the classic that it is. It also reminded me of Larry McMurtry, obviously a very different author in a different time, but the absolutely believable in every detail, reportage style of the book, inside the main character’s (and other characters’) head, the grungy American setting, the road trip, the small town, they all remind me of that favourite author of mine.

So Maria is a young trans woman who works in a crappy bookshop in New York and whose relationship with Steph is failing. She would carry on forever, being chaotic, forgetting to take her oestrogen injections on time, messing around with her co-worker and repeatedly walking out of the bookshop to get a bagel, but there’s more than that, the ever-present mental, physical and emotional work of being trans, the fact she dissociates whenever something really difficult comes up. And all of this coincides in a perfect storm when she loses her relationship – thus her home – and her job and goes on a road trip in a “borrowed” car, only to encounter a young lad, James, an unhappy stoner who works in a Wal-Mart in a small town in Nevada, and sees her old self in him. Will she bring him along a path to enlightenment? The ending – which is perfect – suggests not, but who knows what Maria and James have learned in the process?

What is really striking about this book is the visceral, detailed, reportage-style narrative of what it is like to live in a trans body (see the quote above, for example). This aspect is funny, savage and heart-rending. It’s also very much universal and applicable now – worrying about transphobic women and their banning of trans women from their spaces, considering male privilege, pushing against the narrative of people feeling they were trans from small childhood which is basically what the medical establishment need everyone to subscribe to in order to access health care (I learned about this in “Trans Britain“, a much later book).

Funny, sad and so absorbing I couldn’t put it down – this is one of those books I wish I’d read earlier so I could be re-reading it now.

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This was Book 7 in my 20 Books of Summer challenge and Book 4 for Pride Month. You can buy a copy from The Heath Bookshop’s page on bookshop.org,

Book review – Kacen Callender – “Lark and Kasim Start a Revolution”

June 21, 2023

Liz Dexter 20booksofsummer, Reading challenges, Social justice - age, Social justice - gender sex sexuality, Social justice - neurodiversity, social justice - race , , 12 Comments

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Here I am with my sixth read for Cathy from 746 Books‘ 20 Books of Summer (Winter) challenge – this year, I’m reading 20 books bought from our local independent bookshop, The Heath Bookshop (find most of these books on their bookshop.org page!). You can see the book lists and results from all my previous attempts here. I bought this one in my first book token haul of this year and it’s the first of those I’ve read – promoted up the pile from the original order so it could be added to my Pride Month reads – but the rest of them will feature later in the summer. I was really looking forward to reading this novel for young adults, but in the end I don’t think it was really aimed at me and that mattered this time.

Kacen Callender – “Lark & Kasim Start a Revolution”

(08 January 2023, older book tokens splurge)

Besides, there isn’t any point in being annoyed. I learned from an early age that I don’t get to be angry or frustrated. Some people are allowed to take up space in this world, while other people are expected to disappear. When we don’t disappear, we’;re hated and then blamed for that hatred. ‘If only you’d been nicer. If only you’d smiled. If only you’d just sit down and shut up, maybe people wouldn’t hate you so much. It isn’t fair but there’s a lot about this world that isn’t fair, right? (p. 7)

Lark and Kasim used to be best friends but something went awry last year and now it’s awkward when Kasim comes around (which he does often, as Lark’s mum is concerned when he has to stay at home alone when his big brother is away working). Lark’s mum calls them out on the awkwardness but doesn’t understand.

Lark and Kasim are both Black trans teens and Lark has self-diagnosed as neurodivergent. They go to a free summer school run by cool tutors, the creative writing tutor the one they spend most time with; most of their classmates are “othered” by society by dint of their gender identity, sexuality, neurodivergence or how they are racialised (or several of the above), apart perhaps from two kids who act as trolls in class and online.

In a metafictional touch, Lark is a writer who is querying their novel featuring Birdie, a winged creature from a tolerant and diverse future to various publishers, most of whom criticise it for having too many genderqueer characters, being too “teen” or being “not Black enough” and even that the main character in a novel shouldn’t be a writer! and Birdie is a character in this book, too (which greatly confused me at first!).

So, it’s great to see all this diverse representation, intersectoinally around race/gender/neurodiversity (there’s an excellent ND supporting character I really liked) and I’m sure early-to-mid-teens will love that. The actual plot revolves around a tweet sent by accident about unrequited love, and a lot of the book revolves around how social media operates, how the various characters try to use and manipulate it and how it bites them back, leading to a solution around telling the truth, being your authentic self and calling people in, not out.

It’s good on the perils of getting cancelled and how people interact and I’m sure it will be very useful to the digital native generation. For me, it’s going over old ground a little – but I’m very much not who this book is marketed to. The lack of swear words and graphic scenes (everyone seems keen to be in polyamorous relationships, but it’s all very sanitised) leads me to think it would be suitable for a younger teen and I would very happily recommend it to such, and it offers some good learning points nicely presented by characters and their development rather than preaching.

So a good book for someone – lots of people – but not necessarily for me. In a Bookish Beck serendipity moment, there’s mention here of inherited epigenetic intergenerational trauma being possibly held by White people (who have had enslavers and rapists in their ancestors) as well as Black people (who are descended from enslaved peoples) which I came across relatively recently in Nova Reid’s “The Good Ally“.

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This was Book 6 in my 20 Books of Summer challenge and Book 3 for Pride Month. You can buy a copy from The Heath Bookshop’s page on bookshop.org,

Book review – Sally Brooks – “Four Movements”

June 19, 2023

Liz Dexter 20booksofsummer, Reading challenges, Social justice - gender sex sexuality , , 14 Comments

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Look how well I’m doing! Cathy from 746 Books is running the 20 Books of Summer (Winter) challenge and I am thus currently reading 20 books bought from our local independent bookshop, The Heath Bookshop (find almost all these books on their bookshop.org!). You can see the book lists and results from all my previous attempts here. I was bought this one by my friend Claire as I know Sally, the author, but was unable to go to her book talk at the bookshop. It’s another signed one, which is lovely to have.

Sally Xerri-Brooks – “Four Movements: 50 Years, Four People, One Piano”

(25 September 2022, from Claire)

The piano sat, silent, alone, proud. It had many new lives ahead of it. (p. 205)

Like Annie Proulx’ “Accordion Crimes”, this novel features a musical instrument passing from person to person. Unlike that book, fortunately, no one ends up being vaporised in a boiling geyser. This is a nicely done novel which follows the four “owners” of a piano as it makes its way through the second half of the 20th century and into this century.

Nancy and her family move out of London into their own house in Stevenage and finally there’s room for Nancy to have a piano – but her mum’s wound tighter than the strings on the instrument she herself only plays when she’s alone, she’s got some weird prejudices and there’s a secret that’s about to burst, as secrets always do. Meanwhile she grows up and learns pieces, and the piano gains a crucial attribute which means we always know it’s the same piano. Jumping to 1989 we meet that time at the end of the second wave of feminism I remember so well, when people still set up up women’s community centres, although the politics of the time threaten the women who set one up – complete with piano, which one woman plays every morning and another longs to try. Some of the women are gay, some are not, and it happily doesn’t seem to matter.

These first two sections didn’t seem to link at all, which had me worried, but the links fly in as we move onwards, very satisfyingly. We jump to 1997 and a troubled young man loses some of his isolation when he buys a piano from a local librarian and they start a tentative friendship as he becomes involved in the politics of a time when of course there was a massive change in the leadership of the country. In 2011, Tamsin and Lauren start an art project around an old piano donated to their school in a lovely subtle twist. They’ve also started a relationship, but one of them isn’t sure while the other travels back through her family’s queer history, related of course to other people back in the previous chapters, for support and understanding. But where has the piano gone?

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This was Book 5 in my 20 Books of Summer challenge and Book 2 for Pride Month. You should be able to buy a copy from The Heath Bookshop’s page on bookshop.org,

Book review – Adam Nathaniel Furman and Joshua Mardell (eds.) – “Queer Spaces”

June 17, 2023

Liz Dexter 20booksofsummer, Reading challenges, Social justice - class, Social justice - gender sex sexuality, social justice - race , , 8 Comments

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Here we go again, and this is where I veer from the order given in the picture here. Cathy from 746 Books is running the 20 Books of Summer (Winter) challenge and I am reading 20 books bought from our local independent bookshop, The Heath Bookshop (find almost all these books on their bookshop.org!). You can see the book lists and results from all my previous attempts here. I’m onto Book 6 now so doing really well – but the original order I put them in didn’t take account of Pride Month, so I promoted this and “Nevada” up the pile to make sure they were captured in the right month. I bought this book from the bookshop in March, just before I went on holiday. Guttingly, the editors did what was by all accounts a great event with the bookshop at the local venue, the Hare & Hounds, just when I was in Malaga! I spent tokens given to me by Gill and Jen on this one, and very worthwhile that spend was, too.

Adam Nathaniel Furman and Joshua Mardell (eds.) – “Queer Spaces: An Atlas of LGBTQIA+ Places and Stories”

(05 March 2023, at the bookshop using book tokens)

Growing up queer means experiencing the destabilising absence of a broad and accessible queer history, most notably, in our case, in relation to spatial design. The many generations who came before us have given proof and examples of our right to inhabit, create, design and transform spaces. This book is our contribution to the work being done by so many to enable access to a shared queer heritage, one that has previously been sidelined and ridiculed. Here we show how it is strong, vibrant, vigorous and worthy of its own space in the public sphere of regognised memory. Thus, for a section of society that does not benefit from the ubiquitous and oppressively reactionary canon of architectural and design history, we hope this book will be an act of queer heirlooming, a gifting by simple example, through generations of accumulated strength, of spaces of affirmation. (p. x)

Published by RIBA and sponsored by a number of architectural practices, this book is a work of art and a sumptuous read. Furman is an artist and designer who trained in architecture and Mardell an architectural historian and the collection they curate here is important historically and culturally, and written about beautifully but accessibly by the contributors. They take us through sections labelled Domestic, Communal and Public, moving from personal spaces to archives, museums and open spaces and the reclaiming of public places.

The pieces range across geography, history and time, featuring the house of the “Ladies of Llangollen” and established archives alongside ultra-modern bars and clubs and gathering places, even a train carriage in which a transwoman reclaimed her identity while moving from her small home town back to the city, which might have only run for one occasion, places that have fallen foul of changes in regimes in countries, places which have run for a long time and adapted to change.

Each piece features text and photographs on the left and more images on the right hand page, and some spill over into another double-page spread. The editing and layout is exemplary, of course, and the book as an object is a lovely thing (in fact I photographed it for my Photo of the Day on the day I finished reading it, see below).

Histories are reclaimed – a British internment camp from World War Two which enabled men to create queer spaces; working-class culture is celebrated in Sheffield and South America; beloved places are happily encountered (Sissinghurst) and new ones found to read about (places all around the world, vibrant and happy or protective and campaigning, or all four); intersectionality and inclusivitiy are acknowledged and considered, celebrated and supported (the Black Lesbian and Gay Centre; places for all in Brazil); and places are even digital, as with a series of parties and gatherings run during Covid times. From pop-up spaces in Dakar to archives of photographs of lost comrades, from joy now to sadness over loss, it’s all here in this wide-ranging and beautiful book.

The book Queer Spaces sitting on a brown leather chair seat
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This was Book 4 in my 20 Books of Summer challenge. You should be able to buy a copy from The Heath Bookshop’s page on bookshop.org,

Book review – Jess Phillips – “The Life of an MP”

June 15, 2023

Liz Dexter 20booksofsummer, Reading challenges, Social justice - class, Social justice - gender sex sexuality , , 26 Comments

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As we know, Cathy from 746 Books is running the 20 Books of Summer (Winter) challenge. This year I am working my way through 20 books bought from our local independent bookshop, The Heath Bookshop (find almost all these books on their bookshop.org!). You can see the book lists and results from all my previous attempts here. I’m now reading Book 5, so catching up with reviews. I bought this book at an event at the bookshop where I got to have a great chat with Jess about the inner workings of the constituency Labour parties (she’s sadly the MP for the constituency next to mine, although my MP is pretty decent after having a very bad predecessor). I bought this book amid a frenzy of 22 books bought just in the first part of October: I’m quite pleased I have managed to read and review five of them already!

I know Jess is somewhat of a divisive figure, so let’s look here at how well she explains the workings of an MP’s life, which I think we all should know a bit about.

Jess Phillips – “The Life of an MP: Everything You Really Need to Know About Politics”

(01 October 2022, bought at her book event)

Politics is not perfect, not even close. In my time on the political front line, I have seen so much that is wrong. I have seen how the language and traditions of our Parliament actively make people feel excluded from joining in: “I could never do what you do because I don’t know all the language.” My hope for this book is that in letting people behind the curtain a little bit, they can see that many of us who work in politics once upon t a time didn’t know the language. And there are lots of us who pay almost no bloody attention to the language we are supposed to use and, as much as possible, try to make Parliament into a more modern place. (p. 260)

Jess’ avowed intent in this book is to explain British politics to British people so that they can understand and take part in the political process that affects all our lives, whether that involves voting in general elections, lobbying our and other MPs or working directly for a political party.

She covers how general elections work, what an MP does all day, life in Westminster, the constituency and occasionally abroad, representing the UK, and then topics like the media and journalists (this was really interesting) and social media, the pros and cons of party politics (as opposed to a free-for all with no parties or the coalition systems that come to pass elsewhere) and why MPs rebel. She starts with the crumbling nature of Parliament itself and finishes with a note on why we need politics, and to understand it.

Naturally, the information in the book is filtered through her own experiences and told in her down-to-earth language; however, I believe it is universal enough to be read by a citizen (or non-citizen; many people in Jess’ constituency aren’t able to vote, but she still (of course) looks after them and works on their behalf) of any political stripe. She does score the odd point off her adversaries, but includes people in her own party and is clear on when she needs to work with rather than against people from other parties.

I remembered the part she read out in the book event about spoiled ballots (people arguing whether a particular cartoon image would count for or against a candidate) and there are some hilarious parts to this as well as very serious and heartfelt ones, for example a long section on her work to protect women and children and the need to call perpetrators out. She also covers the pandemic and the difficulty in having meetings via Zoom.

An interesting book, with some difficult topics made clear and something to learn for everyone.

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This was Book 3 in my 20 Books of Summer challenge. You should be able to buy a copy from The Heath Bookshop’s page on bookshop.org,

Book review – Robert Twigger – “Walking the Great North Line”

June 13, 2023

Liz Dexter 20booksofsummer, Reading challenges , , 13 Comments

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This year, as every year, Cathy from 746 Books is running the 20 Books of Summer (Winter for the Southern Hemisphere) challenge. This year I have themed my 20 Books around ones bought from our local independent bookshop, The Heath Bookshop (and excitingly, they’ve added all the books they can to a shelf on their bookshop.org page so you can find and order them (two are not available on bookshop.org). You can see the book lists and results from all my previous attempts here. Although I’ve actually finished books 2-4 on the pile, here’s just book 2, bought for me by Matthew shortly after the shop opened.

Robert Twigger – “Walking the Great North Line: From Stonehenge to Lindisfarne to (Kind of) Discover the Mysteries of our Ancient Past”

(25 September 2022, gift from Matthew)

There is something thrilling in such a mundane start. Of course you feel a tad over-dressed when you have to lumber off the pavement for a mum, her pushchair and the kid coming home from school, but, like an astronaut in his reflecting helmet and clumpy books, you feel elevated, different, alien, a privileged visitor and not just another poor sod living in the real world. (p. 6)

Twigger is a veteran walker and writer about walking, although to my knowledge I haven’t read any of his other books. He’s a little unreconstructed in his descriptions of people (thin or fat, blond or not mentioned) but makes it clear he’s realistic about the details of walking, which means we can’t really mind him talking about blisters or wood-based evacuations. He has companions for a while. which gives him the opportunity to talk about mental health and particularly depression in men, usefully, meets up with a few people along the way, and makes at least one actual friend. Most of the time he’s camping alone, worrying for a while each evening about where to set up and fretting about the luminosity of his bright green tent; it’s a very human book.

The process of the book is set up around a line – not a ley line – which seems to join ancient sacred sites, both the big ones like Stonehenge and Avebury and smaller rings and barrows and the like. He tries to visit each one on his slightly wavering path, and discusses our need for the sacred and unknown and the possibility there were very many more such sites, as well as their range of possible meanings and purposes (to keep things out or to keep things in, for example?). He mulls over other travels and is nostalgic at times, thinking of the need to be photographed clutching trig points in a howling gale in childhood, something I certainly remember doing (and have done in adulthood, too).

Photograph of a book held open with a hand-drawn map showing Birmingham in the middle

And very excitingly, there’s a section from Wooton Wawen where the map includes familiar places Acocks Green and Yardley and he goes into a shopping centre that must be the Swan Centre. Having not liked the more urban areas, he comes to a feeling of calm peace by the time he reaches Lindisfarne.

He describes the atmospheres of places as well as the people he meets, and the travel narrative is accompanied by charming illustrations and a series of hand-drawn maps, as shown here.

Image

This was Book 2 in my 20 Books of Summer challenge. You should be able to buy a copy from The Heath Bookshop’s page on bookshop.org,

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