Anybody that knows me knows that I have always been fascinated with War narratives and true stories, in particular, stories regarding the Holocaust. I think it’s something to do with the sheer trauma of the Holocaust and the fact that human beings are capable of surviving such horrors. If people managed to survive something like that, we are capable of anything. Holocaust narratives always strike me as shocking and terrifying yet inspiring.

The book is based on the experiences of Shlomo Venezia, an Italian Jew who worked in the Gas Chambers of Auschwitz. As you can imagine, a lot of the scenes depicted within the book are especially shocking, due to Venezia witnessing inside the Gas Chambers and what happened in them at Auschwitz. However, the subject matter is handled in such a way that the story is incredibly readable, though still shocking. The story is handled in the form of an interview – the interviewer asking Venezia questions to which he responds in honesty from memory. With it being in the form of an interview, this takes some control from Venezia on how the story is structured. When the story begins to get incredibly shocking there is a line break before another question. I can imagine that, to those that are not familiar with Holocaust narratives in particular, this will provide great relief from the series of horrific images depicted within the story.

I’ve read numerous Holocaust narratives, my English Literature dissertation was actually based on the Holocaust and the German experience of World War Two. However, I never fail in learning something new from each Holocaust narrative that I read. In Venezia’s story, one very small detail has stuck in my head. This detail is Venezia’s depiction of one of the guards behaviour towards the prisoners of Auschwitz. A lot of the descriptions of camp guards within Holocaust Literature and, in fact, this retelling too, are of an extremely violent nature. However, one of the camp guards within this is described as preferring not to be violent towards the inmates or cause any direct harm. This guard even carried a bamboo cain and, when other guards were around, would only hit the prisoners with the bamboo cain. This is because the bamboo cain was slightly split in the middle so would not cause the prisoners pain. The guard only hit the prisoners in the first place because he did not want to seem to be sympathetic towards the prisoners. I think this says a lot about the German experience of the war in the respect of complicity towards the Nazi regime and the agency that Germans actually had in their situations. Of course, some German guards were vile and there is no denying that. A lot of Germans who believed in the Nazi regime were horrific – there’s no escaping this or justifying their complicity in any way. It’s just that, the nature of the situation is that if some were to stand up for their true beliefs they would also be thrown into concentration camps themselves or instantly murdered. I think it’s an extremely complicated topic and it’s one that I think about a lot.

Though horrific in subject matter, I think more people should be reading narratives like Venezia’s. It’s important to acknowledge and remember those who bear witness to atrocities like these.

Tender is the Flesh is a haunting, striking dystopian novel about the selfish tendencies of humanity and their determination to survive… no matter the moral costs.

Based in a world where eating animal meat is no longer allowed due to a virus, the human population in this novel turn to breeding and eating their own species. Breeding centres are full of humans being bred for slaughter. These humans are bred until adulthood, their vocal cords removed and are only referred to as ‘heads’ as to abolish any tendencies to humanise them.

There are similarities to how we currently breed animals for slaughter in terms of their quality of meat. The novel details how the quality of the ‘heads’ is improved if it is raised without growth accelerants or genetic modification. This strikes me as similar to current obsessions to buy organic, free ranged animal products as their quality is deemed superior also. The likeness between these two matters highlights the horrors of the book in two ways.

Firstly, this novel puts humans into the place of animals. In this sense, we, perhaps unjustly, relinquish our superiority over animals in the meat industry. We are unable to distinguish ourselves between eater and eaten / predator and prey.

Secondly, despite being a meat eater myself, it made me feel sick about eating animal produce. It brought about several questions for me regarding the justness of having the authority to eat these animals and support the meat industry overall. I think this is really highlighted by the tactics within the book to decrease the ‘human-ness’ of the ‘heads’ within the narrative. Animals can’t talk either, but does this mean that they don’t know what their fate is? In the novel, the ‘heads’ are all aware and panicked about what may happen to them in the factories. It raises the question of do animals have the same kind of soul as humans. What makes animals beneath humans?

This book definitely raised more questions than it answered for me. It acted as a bit of a think piece as well as a gripping, entertaining (BUT VERY DISTURBING) narrative that I enjoyed following. I think about it a lot.

The Interestings revolves around the lives of a group of individuals that met in a Summer Camp during their teenage years. Deeming themselves ‘The Interestings’, these individuals believed that they were all unique and talented in different ways. The book follows this group throughout their lives, depicting how their careers and interests evolve and how their perceived ‘special-ness’ shifts.

This has been on my to-read for a LONG. TIME. Ever since I heard a review of this on The High Low Podcast, I knew it was a book I was definitely keen on getting into at some point. I feel like I put it off for a while because it’s not a short book and, childishly of me to consider, the font is quite small. So, I knew this was going to be a book that took me a while to get through.

However, I really enjoyed it. I found the characters to be fascinating in different ways. Also, it’s set in New York and I seem to be drawn to New York based narratives – shout out to ‘City of Girls’!

Though The Interestings follows the lives of a few individuals, the moral tone is set (I believe) by Jules Jacobson. Jules is possibly one of the lesser significant characters within the novel. By this, I mean that she is not perceived as special before she meets The Interestings and she does not harbour a significant talent throughout the novel, unlike some of her peers. Inhabiting her moral code and head throughout the novel, we witness the struggles of the other characters in honing their talents and using them in a way that they can appreciate and, in some ways, tolerate. From Jules’ perspective, this aspect is portrayed perfectly.

The Interestings explores what it’s like to be young and want to be special, but to be special in ordinary ways. It explores how talent can be explored in a career setting and how talent can be used quietly and privately, in order to be fulfilling by the individual.

Overall, and in order not to spoil or influence anybodies opinions over certain characters in this fascinating book, I loved it and I loved all of them. The book seems weighty at times, with no apparent A-B narrative, but please, please, PLEASE persist. It’s a good one.

I picked up Autumn having never read an Ali Smith novel before. Autumn is the first of Smith’s seasonal quartet and cannot be categorised with further adjectives. It’s not a Brexit book because it’s also about time, friendship, age, modernity, sex, gender, art, etc, etc, etc…

It’s quite hard to summarise or even give an opinion on this novel because of it’s inability to be categorised. Smith’s writing reminds me slightly of Max Porter’s, as it is lyrical and poetic whilst still driving some sort of narrative forward. She drives a narrative, whilst writing beautifully, but not jeopardising narrative completely. This is an aspect I appreciated a lot because I think some writers do tend to get caught up in the art of their writing when writing this kind of piece.

The novel is interlaced with different perspectives as well as different time periods. The friendship between Elizabeth and her elderly relative, David, is projected through different lenses and also sporadically told, jumping back and forward in time. This element is quite reflexive of the memory process that occurs in human nature, as we often do not remember a person or relationship in a linear fashion and instead remember random moments that, once weaved together, would be out of order.

‘Time travel is real, Daniel said. We do it all the time. Moment to moment, minute to minute.’

I really enjoyed Autumn and I’ll be continuing with the rest of the quartet as soon as possible.

Decca Aitkenhead is a very brave woman. All At Sea is her memoir revolving around the event of her partner’s death. Her partner, and father of her two children, died during a family holiday in Jamaica. He died saving one of his son’s from drowning in the sea and he, instead, unfortunately drowned.

I think what is so shocking about this story is that, through Aitkenhead’s vivid descriptions, you can picture it perfectly. The sea appeared smooth and gentle, however it had a sinister current that pulled out to sea. Aitkenhead’s descriptions of scenery aren’t the only vivid descriptions within the novel – her feelings and emotions throughout her story are striking. I didn’t feel like I was reading this book, I felt like I was listening to a podcast or something – her tone throughout the novel was incredibly honest and I didn’t feel like she was trying to ‘do’ anything by writing this story other than get it down onto paper.

It was an incredibly refreshing and unique story. It’s also terrifying and heartbreaking. I’m really unsure as to what else I could say about this other than to recommend it enthusiastically to everybody.

‘The overwhelming sensation of being home is one of homelessness.’

This book focuses on a dystopian society where individuals are scored and judged solely on their Q (Quotient) scores. These scores affect which possibilities are open to you, such as schooling, job opportunities, societal gatherings, etc.

The protagonist in the story, Elena, is married to the person responsible for the Q scoring – Malcolm Fairchild. Together, they have two daughters named Anne and Freddie. Anne has always sailed through life easily pushing the top brackets of Q scoring, meaning that she has never had any problems maintaining her top level schooling. Freddie, however, is the complete opposite. The novel proceeds to show a mother’s love for her child and what she would do to protect them and expose inequality once it has shown itself in the most evil form.

I thought this book was scary. It was scary because I don’t find it difficult to envisage a world in which everybody is judged solely on their grades, as if this is the only thing that they can offer to a society. As well as this, the novel repetitively compares the society in Q to that of Nazi Germany which highlights the harsh prejudices involved and makes the reader unable to sympathise or understand, at all, the society depicted.

Personally, I didn’t find Elena to be very likeable and, for me, that’s quite important to have in a protagonist in this type of narrative. I disliked that she lived very comfortably until injustice faced her own family, forcing her to act. Until then, she had made comments about other families only disapproving of the ‘unfairness’ of the society when they themselves were effected by it, which I thought was quite hypocritical.

Overall, I thought this was a good dystopian read that wasn’t too far from present society – it was believable in that essence. It made me feel better about the current society we do live in as, though a lot of things in our society do count on grading, we also value other aspects and unique personality traits that make people true individuals.

3.5/5

This novel follows the story of Dannie Cohan. She’s a successful lawyer and has a successful love life too – she’s engaged to someone perfect for her. However, when she dreams one night that she awakens in an apartment that is not hers with another man five years in the future, her normal, successful life seems to dissolve into the background – especially when she is met by the same man four – and – a – half – years later.

I picked this book up because I was in the mood for an easy romance read. I guess it *kind of* meets this criteria. The real romance within this book isn’t one of discovering the sexual and romantic love of one’s life. The romance in this book exists between Dannie and her best friend. Dannie has always been there for her best friend and has acted as a sort of anchor to her friend’s reckless ways. However, when her best friend becomes ill, their friendship is really put to the test AND under a microscope. I think this element of the novel not chasing a proper romantic, sexual relationship, despite the illusion of doing so in the description, is really great. The great love of your life doesn’t always have to be the person you’re in a relationship with – it can be a friendship or a close familial bond and that is perfectly ok. I think this really combats the pressure some people can be under to find this perfectly relationship and this novel simply states that it is not an essential to live a happy life.

I really really really liked that message in the book – I can’t emphasise this enough. However, due to me being in the mood for a romance book, it wasn’t quite what I was hoping for and I did feel slightly let down and misled by the book. From reading the description, it’s obviously aiming to appear to be a fully fledged romance book and that’s where I felt slightly fooled (sorry)…

3/5

Rather obviously, this novel follows the disappearance of the Van Apfel girls – three sisters. The novel is set in Australia and the sisters disappear into the unknown during a school play at the local amphitheatre and are never to be seen again. It’s written from the perspective of Tikka, a friend of the sisters, and follows her trouble in accepting that the Van Apfel girls are actually gone.

I was initially really excited to read this book and was thrilled when I was granted a review copy by NetGalley (thanks!). However, the book failed to pull me in completely. I felt like the story began to pick up at around 30% through, but it just sort of fizzled out. I think my problem with this book was the fact that there was no conclusive ending to it, which I expect in most narratives due to typical expectations when picking up any novel. In retrospect, I should have looked more clearly at the novel’s description, as it states ‘the mystery of their disappearance remains unsolved forever’ – the narrative really stays true to this statement.

I thought the characters in the novel were all rather serious, especially for young girls. However, this is quite acceptable through the issues highlighted within the novel such as abuse from parents and inappropriate relationships with teachers are implied. I think this was, overall, a good read. I wouldn’t pick it up again … but I didn’t hate it. For me, it just didn’t meet my particular expectations of narrative or tone.

3/5

Prentisstown is unique. It is a town full of men and without any women. In Prentisstown, men can hear each other’s noise (thoughts), whether they want to or not. It is a month away until Todd becomes a man but, before then, Todd stumbles upon something that he has never encountered before – complete silence. The silence indicates the lies and deception that Todd has grown up with all of his life. This silence means that Todd, and his faithful dog Manchee, must now run from Prentisstown if they would like to live.

I’ve wanted to pick The Knife of Never Letting Go up for quite some time. I absolutely adored Patrick Ness’ A Monster Calls so I was eager to read something else that he’d written. I also think that young adult dystopian novels are one of the best forms of escapism and I really needed that during this lockdown.

I found the writing within this book quite hard to follow at first. Ness wrote it as if it is written from the unique perspective of Todd, which means that it comes fully loaded with spelling, grammar and wording mistakes. This took quite a while to get used to but it’s definitely a unique feature that this book boasts. As well as this, I found that the narrative was quite slow at first. When Todd flees Prentisstown, the actual initial ‘fleeing’ section drags out, perhaps, for around half of the book.

The characters, however, were the novel’s strength for me. I was charmed by Todd’s bravery yet evident vulnerability. I was even more charmed by Manchee – being a dog lover myself, it was an extremely pleasant surprise to see a speaking character in a book be a dog without it seeming too far fetched within the story presented (I know, sounds crazy). I also really liked Viola. Viola is a teen but is presented as really smart and carries her own opinions and isn’t afraid to stand up for them.

I think this book is a really great teen dystopian novel because of the characters I’ve discussed above. It shows that boys should not be afraid to show vulnerabilities and that girls should speak their opinions freely without any fear of being knocked down, etc. For me, being a 22 year old reader, there were disadvantages of this book (as described in a previous paragraph). But, overall, I would probably continue with the series if the opportunity came to be.

3/5 🌟

This is a book about two women – Alex Chamberlain and Emira Tucker. Alex Chamberlain is a white, middle class blogger who struggles to maintain the facade that she projects via social media in her day-to-day life. Emira Tucker, on the other hand, is a young black woman, who is also Alex’s babysitter, and is struggling to financially make ends meet. When Emira is accused of kidnapping Alex’s daughter whilst in a supermarket, issues of racial treatment and prejudice begin to arise.

I was so so SO looking forward to reading this book. It was really hyped via social media – I saw many people blogging and discussing it, including Reese Witherspoon’s book club. This, usually, is an indication to me that a book should not be missed and must be picked up as soon as the opportunity arises. I managed to pick up a copy from my local library and enthusiastically began reading. Unfortunately, I don’t think I got it? I just really did not see what all the hype was about.

I’m reluctant to write about books that I do not enjoy as I wholly recognise that everybody has an individual reading experience and can connect with different books better / worse than others, but I’m just trying to be honest about my reaction to this one. I found it really hard to get into – the story was quite slow and not a lot actually happened in the narrative. Emira was accused in the supermarket … and then there was a lot of nothing before anything even happened before the last fifty (or so) pages of the book. I understand that character development is also a crucial part of any novel, but I didn’t really see much of that either. I thought the characters did seem quite false – I recognise this is fiction so this is inevitable to some extent. However, they just seemed really unreachable and unrealistic to me. I just don’t think that this book was for me unfortunately.

2/5