Category: Review (Page 68 of 132)

5 out of 5 stars

A copy of this was provided free of charge from the publisher in return for an honest review.

Life feels like one headlong rush at times. The phone squeaks constantly with notifications, demanding attention now, the 24 hour news fills our lives with politics and despair and yet time goes no faster than it did 5000 years ago. It grinds ceaselessly on, covering memories and objects with its gossamer-thin seconds. To go back in time, we need to unearth our landscapes and memories.

Time is a spiral. What goes around comes around.

The book opens with her in Alaska helping at an archaeological dig in a Yup’ik village. The site is normally frozen most of the year, but in the summer the cold relents, normally allowing the top four or five inches to be uncovered, however, climate change means that the permafrost is thawing to a depth of half a metre allowing more secrets of its hunter-gatherer past to be revealed. The objects that they are finding are enabling the village to re-discover their past. They found dance masks that were discarded after missionaries told them it was devil worship and for the first time in a very long time performed a dance that was pieced together from the elder’s memories.

The landscape was astonishing. There was nothing I wanted to do more than sit quietly and look at it, come to terms with its vastness.

Her next excursion to the past is at the Links of Noltland, up in Orkney. This Neolithic site has been covered by dunes and what they have found here was last seen by human eyes thousands of years ago. The need to excavate and understand just what is there, is urgent as it is subject to erosion from the storms that the Atlantic brings, as well as the other pressure of funding to carry out the work being stopped because of budget pressures. These people were only a step away from the wild and had short brutal lives and yet they were skilled enough to have devised a method when they built their homes to keep out the relentless wind.

They fill your hands, these fragments, these stories, but with a wide gesture, you cast them back across the field again.

Jamie writes of time spent in Xiahe in Tibet in her younger days, at the time of the student protests and the clampdown of martial law in the region and the palpable tension in the area. They explore as much as they can, but because they are foreigners, they have an undue amount of attention directed towards them, including the inevitable night raid by the police. There are other essays in here too, almost short interludes between the longer pieces. She stops her car to watch the mastery an eagle has over the air and consider the timelessness of a woodland. Some of the essays are more personal too, she recalls the moment of her fathers passing and struggles to hear her mother and grandmothers voices in her mind.

A new Kathleen Jamie book is a thing of joy, and Surfacing does not disappoint at all. Her wonderful writing is layered, building images of the things that she sees, until you the reader, feel immersed in the same place that she inhabited. Some of the essays are very moving, Elders in particular, but also The Wind Horse where you sense the tension in the town from what she observes. Her skill as a poet means, for me at least, that her writing has a way of helping you seen the world around in a new and different light, revealing as much from the shadows as from the obvious and this book is no different.

3 out of 5 stars

A copy of this was provided free of charge from the publisher in return for an honest review.

There are those that achieve one or two notable things in their lifetime, writing a book, standing on top of mountains or some sort of sporting achievement. Given the number of thing that Michael Dobbs-Higginson has achieved, Zen Buddhist Monk, learning to speak Japanese, investment banking career, losing a fortune and gaining a fortune, surviving a encounter with the CIA, sailing the Atlantic, drug smuggling, and travelling all around the world, you’d think that he has lived several lives.

He would have carried on had he not been diagnosed with cancer, and this book is his recollection of the life that he lived. In in he tells the stories of how he became the person he is now, from his earliest days growing up in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) and the training that he undertook in Japan that gave him the balanced outlook that enabled him to face all that life threw at him with resilience and good humour.

It was an entertaining read, written in a straightforward, matter of fact style. At times it felt exhausting reading as he rushes about here and there, setting up businesses and even at one point designing a car. Even with his illness looming over the future, he still manages to be very positive and I think relishes the life he has been able to lead.

3.5 out of 5 stars

A copy of this was provided free of charge from the publisher in return for an honest review.

Every village of any note used to have its church, pub and pond, but it has been a long while since I have seen a pond in a village, and even though some have become clogged with silt, there are still a substantial number left. Even a small pond can support a surprising amount of life. There are the obvious frogs and toads and the other amphibians, but on top of that, there are all the insects and invertebrates, leeches, and all manner of birdlife. Mammals too rely on ponds for water and opportunities to eat some of the other wildlife there.

A pond is Bigger than a puddle and smaller than a lake and John Lewis-Stempel is fortunate to have a pond on his farm in Hereford, and he begins this book from a frogs eye view while swimming in there. This book takes us from the layers of mud and silt at the bottom that protects all manner of creatures in the depths of winter, past the plants and the insects that feed there to the surface and the creatures that stop by for the life-giving water. He slips a small amount of that water onto a slide and sees the world that the first naturalists first saw through a microscope.

This is another very readable book by Lewis-Stempel. He mixes in prose and poetry and I liked the seasonal / diary format of the book and the way he compared the aquatic life in France with the pond on his farm in Hereford. I did feel that this wasn’t quite as good as his previous books, though that said, he has a very high bar to reach each time. Still worth reading though for his beautiful prose and sharp observations.

4 out of 5 stars

Don McCullin is best known for his stark war photography. The images that he has taken all over the world from Afghanistan to the troubles in Northern Ireland of conflict show human misery and suffering at its worst. He has an unnerving way of getting to the essence of the story at the time, whilst showing compassion for his subjects. Authorities took a dim view of his work as he was prepared to help those in need and even had a bounty on his head.

The images that he took were about the people, but they were also about the place and this latest book of his is very much about the Landscape. This book is full of the images that he has taken recently as well as a few going back four decades or so. Each photo has that same razor-sharp composition that made him famous, but what really makes this so special is the way he captures the light.

He has used the light to great effect in all of these photos. Each Black and white image is dark and brooding and sometimes menacing. The stormy weather adds to the foreboding atmosphere too. I like the way that he has made some images grainy, adding to the drama. The pictures have been selected from his vast array, and some pictures of places still troubled by horrendous conflict, the images of Syria after bombing taken last year are quite horrific.

Quite a collection. I liked the A3 format of the book, it adds a certain amount of heft and gravitas. The Guardian has got some images here if you want a taster of what the book is like.

5 out of 5 stars

A copy of this was provided free of charge from the publisher in return for an honest review.

Having travelled down the length of the Mississippi in a small boat and come to love the country, Raban wanted to get the full experience of what it used to be like to be an immigrant to this vast country. His partner drops him off at the docks in Liverpool and he climbs aboard a container ship called the Atlantic Conveyor, that is ready to depart for New York. A tropical storm, called Helene, delays the voyage and makes for a rough crossing. It does give him time to think about those who were making this voyage with no intention of returning back to the UK. They pause briefly in Halifax to unload some cargo before heading onto New York.

He has secured the use of an apartment, on East 18th Street, between Union Square and Gramercy Park in New York. The concrete cell as he calls it, is half the size of the room he had aboard ship. Naturally, he checks out her bookshelves, before heading out onto the streets to walk where other immigrants first made the tentative steps in making this country their home. The grey cliffs of Manhattan are visible from the apartment and there is a constant low-level rumble of traffic the ebbs and flows throughout the day but never ceases. As he moves around the city, he begins to see that life there can be seen through the prism of the department store, Macy’s in particular. It offered a way of life for some people and a glimpse of something unobtainable for the rest. Taking time to sit on a fire hydrant and observer life as it rushed around him, he began to see that the New York was stratified into two layers; the Street People who are those who are just keeping their heads above water, and the Air people who were whisked to places by lifts, taking them far away from the street.

Having had his fill of this city it was time to hit the road. Taking the I78 and then joining the much larger I80 he headed south, flying past the drivers pootling along at 50. Arriving in Guntersville, Alabama he finds it very much different from New York. Staying in a rented cabin he sets about meeting the residents and has to borrow a dog for personal security by the lake. Realising that this community has very conservative views he keeps a lot of his opinions to himself, knowing that some will take offence to them. It was time to move on again.

This time he was travelling by plane across the country. Not his favourite form of transport, especially when the plane was stuck on the tarmac and not going anywhere any time soon. The contrast with his nerves and a guy nearby who has a basket of popcorn and a book and pays no attention to the announcements. It gives him time to consider the differences between the American’s ease in which they take a plane and the event that flying in Europe is at that time. His destination is to the city where the plane was made, Seattle. It was here that he began to realise that he wanted a city he could mould to his shape, rather than having to fit in with what others did. First, though, he had to find somewhere to live, provided his car he was driving could make it. It was a place that felt American, and yet didn’t fit the other characterises that he came to know for other travels around this country.

It wouldn’t be a Raban book without some sort of boat journey and he heads to the diagonally opposite side of the country on the southern tip of Florida. While he is there he contemplates some of the, shall we say, less legal ways of making money in the region. Talking to the law enforcement people there about it he realises that it is fraught with danger and he would be in the high risk of something nasty happening to him. Chartering the Sea Mist he settles into a gentle cruise off the coast and is even brave enough to put of shorts and reveal his lily-white legs to the sun and probably consternation of the locals…

He writes about America so well, treating the flaws of the people with a warm shrug and embracing the qualities of the places he visits. I am glad too, that I read them in the order of publication, you sense as you travel with his through all his books the warmth that he has, as he meets people and places and experiences the richness of humanity in all its facets. You also sense in this book, his desire to settle somewhere that suits him and it turns out that Seattle was the place that he moved too and where he still lives now. I think that this is my favourite book of his so far of the five that I have read. Highly recommended.

4 out of 5 stars

Walking is travel at a speed that humans are comfortable with, you can take everything in as you pass by. The act of us walking on two feet, upright and able to observe what is around us is a movement that is millennia old. We as a species though are not walking as much as we used to, the modern transport options are so easy and we lose that sense of time.

The ability to walk, to put one foot in front of the other, invented us.

Erling Kagge has loved walking for as long as he can remember, when he was growing up in Norway his parents did not own a car so he had to walk. He walked to the North Pole in his mid-twenties and then walked to the South Pole, solo. Now in charge of a publishing house, he still walks when he can and wherever he happens to be. For him it is the best way to discover a place, find what makes it tick and to feel the pulse of it.

I learned that the spiritual was the opposite of the material, but in the woods these two are not opposites – they are equals. To walk reflects this.

Walking not only helps our physical health, but can benefit our mind too. Research has shown that time spent away from a screen, regardless if it is a walk along city streets or heading up over a moor works wonders for your mind too. This is a good companion volume to his other book on silence. Both are small acts of defiance against the fast paced, relentless and loud world. I really enjoyed this too. I really like his sparse writing style and philosophical outlook on life. Stunning cover too. Well worth reading.

3 out of 5 stars

I have been recommended poetry by various people over the years and one name that keeps being mentioned is Seamus Heaney. Shamefully I had never read any of his at all. Thankfully my local library had a copy of Human Chain and unusually I had space on my card, so I grabbed a copy.

This the first of his collections that I have read and from what I can gather is the last collection that he was well enough to have full editorial control over. Just the title is quite chilling, as it made me think of the oppressed, but the context here is the people that helped carry him to get medical care after he had had a stroke. Heaney also concerns himself with the loss of friends and family as time grinds on. The prose is warm and nostalgic at times and then can feel disjointed and unsettling at other moments.

Everywhere plants

Flourish among the graves,

Sinking in their roots

In all the dynasties

Of the dead

I wasn’t totally sure what to expect with this collection and it was not the easiest read to be honest given that it is about those that are in the autumn of their lives. It is pretty melancholic reading, but there were the odd glittering lines in amongst the poems. I have also got a couple of his other collections to read, including Opened Ground.

Three Favourite Poems

Album

The Wool Road

Slack

4 out of 5 stars

A copy of this was provided free of charge from the publisher in return for an honest review.

There are people around that revel in climbing the tallest mountains, seeking out the wildest places and pushing their bodies to extremes. David Roberts was one of those people who was always seeking the next place, another mountain all because he could. He never considered himself a risk-taker though, more of a risk manager, as he knew the absolute limit of what he could achieve and never pushed himself over that line. His outlook on life all changed though with his diagnosis of throat cancer. Gone were the days of scaling the peaks and he had to take time out to be treated and to rest and recuperate.

The sudden expanse of spare time that he had meant that he could consider whys and wherefores as to why he undertook adventures and also made him think about other people who have sought the perils of extreme travels. These days we are not cut off from civilisation, our technology can pinpoint our exact spot in the globe and we are only a phone call away from help should things become sticky. That said becoming too dependent on it can be lethal. It feels that there are no more blank spaces on the maps anymore; even 100 years ago there were parts of the North American continent that had never had humans walk or climb over them.

Restricted because of his health, the journeys in this book are literal and historical. Not only does he reminisce on the highlights and the close calls that he had in his own adventures all of the globe, but he writes about adventures that he admires, such as Henry Worsley’s epic walk across Antarctica, Norwegian explorer Fridtjof Nansen who managed to get closer to the North Pole than anyone else before him and British explorer Eric Shipton who was the first to see some of Alaska before it appeared on a map. There are modern adventures in here too, people who have turned away from the much-photographed and mapped surface and headed underground, deep deep underground to discover about those who push their limits right to the limit when cave diving.

Roberts asks some interesting questions, about the need for humanity to seek the places that have never glimpsed directly by our eyes and what drives these people to do these things. He goes some way to answer them too, by considering his take on adventures and his attitude to risk even after losing climbing partners to falls. This is the first of his books that I have read. I really liked his writing style, detailed and yet concise and will definitely be reading some more of his books.

4 out of 5 stars

A copy of this was provided free of charge from the publisher in return for an honest review.

Lots of people dream of making a living from writing. Sadly in the modern world, it is only the authors that sell millions of copies that are able to do this, or who have been fortunate enough to land significant advances. Raban started off as a lecturer at The University College of Wales before heading to the University of East Anglia. It was there that he was given the chance to write book reviews. He resigned the steady job and took the opportunity and waded into the London literary scene.

In those days you could earn a reasonable living from being a literary reviewer,  those the days that they paid for people to write reviews and there were a lot more column inches to fill too. He was sent piles of books to read, and it could be quite lucrative too as he could sell them on afterwards. He had a particular way of doing things, which suited some editors, but I am sure that he loved the accolade of a ‘troublesome reviewer’ from one of his editors. Book reviews then were much more expansive then, often considering the author’s wider works and all sorts of other things that took their interest. He includes some of his best reviews in this part.

Raban then tried to get into writing plays, partly as it was work that was much less solitary than sitting alone in a flat in London and the money could be really good. He soon found out that it was a very different discipline than writing a book review and to be perfectly frank, it wasn’t very successful…

Then we are onto the part where he writes about writing for magazines like the New Review, where editorial demands are both high and relaxed, being mostly dedicated to good writing without having a set agenda or a particular axe to grind. There look for pieces from contributors that could be taken from any subject that they wanted to write about. Raban provides some examples of work that he had published. Next is my favourite part of the book, the section on travel writing.

He has discovered that the best way to travel is to cast himself adrift in the world and ensure that he has no appointments to make and how a letter of introduction can take you places that you’d rather not go. The same working conditions for a writer that drives him to drink can also drive him to travel as they would do anything to get away from the typewriter. The procrastination with make you think of sunnier climes and of those whose footsteps you wish to follow. He revels in the chaos of travel and has a thing for seeing different places from boats. He then goes onto review some of his fellow travel writers books and journeys, some of which I have read and some of which I haven’t.

This was another enjoyable book by Raban. His writing style is more crisp and efficient when compared to his books as these were pieces for periodicals and not originally intended for a book. In this, his infectious enthusiasm for the written word is evident and not just the words he has wrestled onto the page, but the admiration for authors who have done the same.

5 out of 5 stars

The first place that I lived in Guildford was called Sheepfold Road. Never thought much of it until I opened up the most recent of Andy Goldsworthy’s book that I got from the library and realised that this collection of art was based around sheepfolds. These simple structures were used for corralling, washing and sheltering sheep from the harshest things that the Cumbrian weather can throw at them.

Goldsworthy approached Cumbria County Council with the idea of renovating them to enclose some of his artworks or to actually be the artwork in some cases. To complete this task would require more than one man and he set about it with a team of stonewallers and big machines. By the time he had gone to 2006 a total of 35 folds had been created and it is those that are documented and photographed in this book.

And as with all of his other books that I have read, it is just beautiful. Not only does he take a pretty good photo of his creations, but it is those creations that make this book so special. A lot of his art is normally more transitory, made from leaves, ice and sticks, but these are very much more permanent installations. There are sheepfolds with huge boulders in, some with cairns and others with substantial parts of a tree built in. Some of the folds are lovingly restored and others he has pushed what he can do with the structures incorporating elements in the walls that surprise and delight. If you have ever come across his work before this is another book that you should read.