Category: Review (Page 7 of 132)

4 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

If you are thinking of planning an event in the UK that is dependent on the weather being good then it is a bit of a lottery. You might have a fantastic day of sun in the middle of March, or downpours in the middle of August.

When the weather isn’t nice, most people tend to head indoors, after all, who wants to get wet or lose their hat in the wind? But in this book, Gaw wants to explore for himself what being out in various inclement weathers is actually like. He begins in the rain, the weather that has spoiled 1000 barbeques and ruined all sorts of occasions. Most, i.e. normal people, choose not to venture out in the rain, though some people don’t really have a choice. It is a weather type that we need, we rely on water to give us life and irrigate crops, but too much of it can be a disaster.

I must admit I am not a fan of going out in the rain, probably from too many soakings when cycling to and from work in the rain. I do like the sound of the rain on canvas and listening to rain on a conservatory roof while it hammers down is quite the experience. The is a particular pleasure to summer rain; petrichor. These are the oils released by the rain and they give of such a distinctive smell that is almost addictive.

Seeking rain takes Gaw to the Lakes, one of the wetter parts of the UK. As he walks the fells, a storm approaches, and suddenly, he is in the middle of it. He pokes his tongue out to drink the rain as it falls around him, but it brings back memories of acid rain, an almost nostalgic memory where we can see the tumult of climate change begin to unleash itself.

Finding rain is straightforward, we have had the wettest 18 months here in the UK so it will be raining somewhere… Finding fog or mist is much harder. Very specific conditions are needed and even then it is elusive, very elusive.

These particular climate conditions mean that it can often be pure luck that you come across it. But of the times when it does happen, autumn is the most common season to get it where I live in Dorset. I never know if we are going to have it or not and glancing out the window after I have got up will soon show if we have fog. This unpredictability means that Gaw has to work to find it in his part of the country. He checks the forecasts obsessively and even having the correct conditions in place is no guarantee.

He heads out to Great Livermere and parts in the dark. He and his son make their way to the mere, he can see the mist hanging over the water. At last, he has found it. It isn’t swirling, as you often would see in many horror films, but the density of the mist varies in thickness as they pass it. Capturing the essence of what they are seeing is much harder though. It is a reminder that this low-lying cloud can change so much of what we see and hear about us.

Finding ice and snow is much easier than fog. However, it is getting much harder in this country due to the effects of climate change. Gone are the hard winters of the past with their bright crips days, now we have more precipitation and much higher than average temperatures.

We rarely get snow in Dorset, so much so that I remember that satellite photo showing the entire country white, except my part of Dorset… I do like a bit of snow and frost. A hard frost with clear blue skies is quite special. Where Gaw lives on the fens it is often blasted by icy winds from the Arctic or Siberia, he describes it as turning the grass to glistening metal. When he heads out it is supposed to be -2C but it feels much colder. They are entranced by the way that the hoar frost has touch the plants by the path.

It is cold enough to freeze some of the fens, supposedly the coldest day in over a decade with temperatures well below zero. The ice is around 3 inches thick, right at the lowest limit for safely skating and when the reach the edge, they see skaters moving at speed across the ice.

To find snow he has to head north to Scotland and has thankfully got a Christmas holiday arranged on the Isle of Skye. They swim (!!!) in a bitterly cold sea and warm up in front of a blazing fire pit. The clouds a re thick like smoke and when it begins to snow they are a little surprised and delighted in equal measure.

Wind is one of the strangest of all weather phenomena. You can feel it, and hear it if it is strong enough and see its effects, but you can’t actually see it. The wind systems that flow endlessly around the planet have built empires, flattened cities and driven people mad.

The best place to experience wind in my opinion is by the coast. Standing on a beach and leaning into the wind as the waves pound the shore is for me an elemental experience. Gaw experiences this at Neist Point, as they walk out they can feel the raw power of the wind pushing against them. Some winds are famous enough to acquire names and reputations, one famous one is the Mistral in Provence, but in the UK we only have, one, The Helm. I kind of fee there should be more of them.

If you want a book that explains weather phenomena, then this probably isn’t going to be the book for you. The crux of this is one man’s desire to experience all types of weather rather than just the sunny days. I liked this a lot, probably because I find the weather endlessly fascinating, I love storms and have taken numerous pictures of clouds when out and about. I like Gaw’s writing in this too. He is engaging and it feels more personal than his previous books. If you have the slightest interest in the weather, then I would recommend reading this.

3.5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

The Sultanate of Muscat and Oman was untroubled by foreigners and travellers for years and years. This all changed in 1970 when the promise of oil revenues opened the country up a little.

Ian Skeet was one of the very few who managed to get access to the country before that change happened and the oil money began to pour in.

This book is a record of his time spent in the country from 1966 to 1968. He was there to see first-hand how a pretty much medieval kingdom had survived most of the way through the 20th century without changing at all.

He worked for an oil company and was fortunate that he had access to all parts of the country. He sees the beauty in the arid and desolate landscapes that he travels through, recounting journeys with a sympathetic eye.

I thought that the most interesting parts of his travels were in the walled cities and the small desert villages. There he sees life as it really is for the inhabitants of the countries. He sees the daily rituals and habits of the people and captures a picture of them with his observations. He isn’t scared to write about the poverty and oppression of a people that have been living under a strong autocratic leader and show how things really are.

His prose is not lyrical and evocative. Rather this is a pragmatic and inquiring view of a country and its people before they have change imposed on them by a wider world and petro-dollars. Their way of life, tough as it is will never be the same again. Worth reading though, and a fine addition to the Eland library.

4.5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

It has been a number of years since I have been to China, but I still remember the first time. It was unlike anything that I had ever experienced, the smells, the mass of people, the food and the mild terror of being driven on the roads was a sensory overload. One thing that I know I didn’t see outside Hong Kong airport was any black people.

It turns out though that there is a fairly large ex-pat community of Africans in parts of China. There are about 20,000 of them living in an area of Guangzhou are from Nigeria, Noo Saro-Wiwa’s original home.

Saro-Wiwa wants to meet these Africans and understand a little of what it is like to live in this country. Navigating the tube she missies out of getting a seat as the Chinese are much more ruthless than her in grabbing them. She finally arrives at Guang Yuanxi Road, the centre of African activity. She was among her people at last.

She takes time to absorb the sights and the smells and spends time watching the Africans and Chinese going about their business. She tries her hand at bartering, but the Chinese stallholders behave very differently to what she is used to and refuse to budge on price.

But she is here to meet the people who are trying to make this country their home. She finds stories of people who are traders, exporters and even the odd drug dealers. She meets Africans who have been residents for years and have even married locals. Even though they are living there the visa requirements for them are quite onerous and any tiny discrepancies can mean deportation and that might come with a five-year ban on returning to China. This has been a big problem for those with financial and family commitments.

The Africans are frequently the recipients of subtle and overt racism from the Chinese and have to be careful not to make a scene. Saro-Wiwa talks to a number of people who have outstayed their visas and who use all manner of methods to stay well under the radar and avoid arrest and deportation.

I thought this was a fascinating book. Saro-Wiwa is an engaging writer who takes time to tease out these Black Ghosts. I liked that she didn’t do much research before going. It meant that each encounter and experience was fresh and surprising to her and also to me as the reader. This is a well-written travel book that has a very different slant to most travel books.

5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

Cairn or Carn in Gaelic means just a pile of stones. They are just a marker of some event or place and can be found all over the world. Some of them can be really old reaching far back into pre-history. In this collection of prose. poems and essays, Jamie has drawn together pieces that are her marker of 60 years on this planet.

The collection begins with her remembering walking southwards towards the lighthouses. A storm has blown up and she is leaning into the wind. As soon as she passes the shelter of the houses, she gets to feel the full force of the wind and is almost blown over. She pauses in the lee of the wind and watches the waves, hears the wind and sees the pulse of the light flashing in the night.

She was soon to find love after this, make a home, and bring up children. Writing opportunities came her way and suddenly she is thirty years older. This book is looking back at what happened over those three decades and this is a marker of that time. But there are no rough rocks in here, rather there precious stones and gems.

Whatever we begin (begin again)
We begin lonely

To say I loved this book would be an understatement. Jamie has always been one of my favourite authors. Her pin-sharp observations of the things that I would never think to glance at, and the way that she moulds her words into the prose and poems that lie within, is just breathtaking. If there was a tiny flaw with the book I thought that it was too short, but I say this out of greed on my part. This isn’t a cairn, this is a literary example of the stone balancer’s art. Please read it as soon as you are able to get your hands on a copy.

5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

I haven’t found much seaglass recently when wandering along the beach. When we were in Sardinia a few years ago, I found loads on the beaches there and brought them home. I love its pale, jewel-like qualities, the razor-sharp edges of the glass rubbed smooth by its passage through the ocean.

Even though I found a lot in Sardinia, there was never enough to fill an old-style sweet jar, unlike Kathryn Tann. It is one of her favourite possessions, containing memories of the beaches that she has visited and the jangle of the glass in her pocket as she left the rubbly beach with her most recent finds.

It is the essay on her seaglass that starts this frankly magnificent collection of essays and other fragments of Tann’s writing. She has deftly woven a mix of memoir, family history, nature writing and even a little travel writing.

This smorgasbord of writing, some longer pieces, some only a page and others only a paragraph and about a variety of subjects from the perfect gravy, swimming and even dance. These fragments of her life have been picked up and poured carefully into this book.

You could read the pages of a book under this moon. Everything is sepia; the grass is bleached, the dark sea silver-plated, reversing the whole scene’s shadows like a negative photo reel.

I loved this book. The prose is sparse and measured and she writes each piece from her heart. I am not sure who her literary influences are, but she is the closest author that I have read to Kathleen Jamie. This is a truly wonderful book and I can’t wait to read more from her.

3.5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

The completion of the Ledra Palace Hotel was the moment that Cyprus felt that it had joined the modern world. But this was early in the 1050s and the peaceful island life they had enjoyed up until now was about to change forever.

It begins with a King. A mere King of the once magnificent country, Egypt. He has booked an entire floor at the hotel so he can contemplate his troubles in relative peace. He heads down to the bar and asks the barman to make him a drink that doesn’t look alcoholic. The barman makes him a brandy sour. It is a sweet and sour drink that fits his mood perfectly.

There is a sherbet for a young lady, a photographer chooses a beer, Jasmin tea for a poet and the maitre’d of the hotel chooses a coffee. The guerrilla fighter selects a VSOP brandy and this is the first hint in the book that this is also an account of the conflict played out on this Mediterranean island that would split it in two and cause untold suffering and misery for the population.

This is a subtle book that reveals the horrors of strife and conflict. Each chapter has a person at its heart and they select a drink that is suited to their particular circumstances.

I liked the way that the book dealt with this. What starts of as an idyllic place slowly descends into strife, the desires of the characters and the drinks that they choose change. The life they once had has gone and their despondency as life crashes down around them is evident from the prose. It shows how quickly that the life that you know can unravel with conflict. Well worth reading.

4 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

If you are anything like me and have grown up (or allegedly grown up that is), with David Attenborough’s marvellous and sometimes magical documentaries on the world we live in, then you will probably be fascinated by the natural world like me. There are hundreds of books out there on nature and they vary from detailed academic tomes to books that tell a more personal story and how people have discovered how nature is a crutch that they have come to rely on.

And then there is this book, Utter, Earth.

It is unlike any other natural history book that I have ever read. It is a series of tongue-in-cheek essays about all manner of subjects from the naming of your progeny, to what happens when you rub a freshly plucked parrot with a poison frog, what the difference is between shoals and schools and which beetle can survive being run over. I particularly liked the final section of the book where Yuen expands his thoughts on all sorts of living creatures.

I really enjoyed the wired and strangely engaging read on the natural world. It is full of wry and humorous observations on the quirks and wonders on this planet we are on. Reading this is a easy way to collect the weird and wonderful facts that you can drop into conversations when people are least expecting it! It’s a great book.

3.5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

Humanity is very much the dominant species on this pale blue dot. This dominance means that we have the ability to change and dominate almost everything that we choose to, though we are helpless when nature really gets going.

So how did Homo Sapiens end up as this tour de force? Of all of the hominid species, why did we survive? It is these questions and many others that Sarah Wild sets about trying to answer in this book. Even though we share 98% of our DNA with chimps and some other primates, how we got down the family tree from them to us is a long and complicated path. There are numerous other hominid species that have been found all over the world, though most early species were discovered in Africa.

Working out where they fit in the timeline is helped by the modern dating techniques that they can use, the big puzzle is working out how they are all related or not as the case may be. It is a puzzle that has been keeping scientists busy for years and every time they think they are a little closer to answering some of the questions, new bones are discovered and the picture becomes a little more complicated.

I thought that this was a fascinating story of our past. I also like that nothing in this story is clear cut and that as scientists look at our DNA there are the echoes of past species, neanderthal and Denisovan in particular. This is a snapshot of where scientists are, in tracing our shared history, in the time it took to write this book, more bone discoveries had been made that further complicated the picture. I thought that this book was definitely worth reading.

4 out of 5 stars

Japan has long fascinated me as a country, the culture compared to the UK where I live seems utterly alien. I haven’t visited, but those that I know who have, say it was well worth the trip. Taking a holiday there is probably my limit, I am not sure I could do what Iain Maloney did and move to the country with his Japanese wife Minori.

They chose this option because of the onerous regulations and costs that our present government places on the spouses of UK residents. They chose to live in a rural village too, something that most immigrants to the country don’t do, most stay in the larger cities. This very funny book is the story of his trying to comprehend Japanese culture, fit into village life, understand the language and be accepted despite being the only gaijin in the village.

Even though he is an obvious incomer to the place, the residents of the village also see his wife as an incomer too, She is not from that part of the country, so she has had to build trust with the people there, though she does have a head start on the culture and language. He has some strong opinions about his chosen country, and this book is as much a celebration of the things that he loves as well as the things that drive him to drink. He is Scottish after all…

Coming from a country that is relatively inert geologically, he is spooked by the natural events that happen fairly frequently there, such as earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanoes. However, the one that scared him the most was the alerts for the missile that the ever-friendly North Koreans had fired. A reminder of the tension in the geopolitics of the region.

I really liked this and thought that it had the edge over Abroad In Japan by Chris Broad, mostly because of the bone-dry humour that Maloney has. But to be honest they are both worth reading because of the different experiences that they have of living the country.

4 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

Barraud was stuck in a tiny stuffy room in a house on Ludgate Hill. She had an uninspiring job entering figures in the premium register, and it was only the though of the weekend that got her through the week. She had filled in the form for the National Service and promptly forgot about it.

It was only after she received a letter saying that she had been accepted that her life changed forever. She arranged for a week’s training in her home village beginning on the 4th of September 1939 and she would work on the land in various capacities over the next five years during the war. Every day on the farm she used different muscles and there were some days that she could barely walk. She was taught how to use a tractor, and even though she never considered that she was a tractor driver when she compared  herself to others on the farm, she was obviously competent enough not to break it.

The more I see of the average countryman, the more I am sure his slowness is the slowness of certainty: all his life he has pitted his wits and his strength against nature and his wisdom is fundamental.

I really enjoyed this book. Barraud’s prose has an easygoing quality about it and I found it to be descriptive and insightful about farm and rural life, whether it is breaking ice in the water butts to fill buckets, leading a horse across a field hoeing the weeds or the daily routines of feeding the horses and other animals around the farm.

She gets involved with the local library as a way of giving something back to the local community. It had been shut for two years and she was concerned about stepping on toes, but they were delighted to have her and gain access to the books there. The descriptions of the villagers and some of her thoughts on the books they choose makes for interesting reading.

The contrast between this and All Around The Year by Michael Morpurgo is quite stark. Even though they are only set 30 years apart, the methods that they use to carry out similar tasks is so very different. I thought that it was quite amusing that she thought that if anyone had time to realise that she was inept she never would have lasted. I somehow doubt that she was that bad, but you can see how she had such a steep learning curve.

Her domestic arrangements of living with her partner, Bunty, must have raised a few eyebrows in this conservative rural setting. But if she had faced any prejudice or comments from the others in the village, then she didn’t mention it in this book. It would have been nice to hear more about her, but I think that when this was first published in the 1940s that might have been too much for people to read about!