blithe_spirit

It is strange - I even searched manually through all the threads as I was surprised not to find something on a novel such as this. Still, it was interesting reading other people's opinions of it.

Apologies! I had searched to see if there was already a thread started but could not find one.

This is one of the best novels that I have read in a while. The story tells of two sisters, born in India, who return as children to the family home in Edinburgh during the early part of the twentieth century. Esme, the younger sister has already had a traumatic experience with the death of her baby brother when her parents and older sister, Kitty, were away from home and on their arrival in Edinburgh she proves to be a difficult and wayward child. Following a further frightening experience with a boy at age 16 her parents, along with a family doctor, have her committed to a mental institution

Yonder see the morning blink: The sun is up, and up must I, To wash and dress and eat and drink And look at things and talk and think And work, and God knows why. Oh often have I washed and dressed And what's to show for all my pain? Let me lie abed and rest: Ten thousand times I've done my best And all's to do again. Yonder see the Morning blink by A. E. Housman

I finished Simon Montefiore's Sashenka early this morning and have now started on Donna Tartt's The Secret History. It's looking good so far.

I have to say that I am one of those who absolutely loved Wolf Hall. Hilary Mantel showed a very human side to her characters, especially Thomas Cromwell, that we do not find in the history books. Her writing style was, I thought, very sharp and kept me engaged in such a way that it did not seem like a 650 page book. My only concern was her continual references to Cromwell as 'he' which resulted in confusion regarding who was actually speaking or being referred to at the time but this only served to keep me on my toes as I read.

I have just finished reading this novel and would agree with this statement. Although no-one would question the author's credentials as a historian his novel reads very much like a first novel. I almost gave up on it when reading the first one hundred pages as I felt that it did not really flow well because Montefiore was trying too hard to set the scene with too much detail, especially with his repetitive English references such as 'the English Shop', Huntly and Palmers biscuits and Pears soap. However, I persisted and became quite absorbed in the events even if they were related rather clums

Had some time to kill in town this morning so I bought: Sepulchre by Kate Mosse The Good Husband of Zebra Drive by Alexander McCall Smith

I am on holiday for the next three weeks and today I finally managed to get to the 'Glasgow Boys' exhibition at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery- an afternoon well-spent.

Just came across this: MAN BOOKER 2010 LONGLIST Peter Carey, Parrot and Olivier in America Emma Donoghue, Room Helen Dunmore, The Betrayal Damon Galgut, In a Strange Room Howard Jacobson, The Finkler Question Andrea Levy, The Long Song Tom McCarthy, C David Mitchell, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet Lisa Moore, February Paul Murray, Skippy Dies Rose Tremain, Trespass Christos Tsiolkas, The Slap Alan Warner, The Stars in the Bright Sky

Currently reading 'Sashenka' by Simon Montefiore. The author is better known as a historian and this is his first novel. I almost gave up on it at the start but am now about two-thirds of the way through and unable to put it down.

I've watched you now a full half-hour, Self-poised upon that yellow flower; And, little Butterfly! indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless! - not frozen seas More motionless! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again! This plot of orchard-ground is ours; My trees they are, my Sister's flowers; Here rest your wing when they are weary; Here lodge as in a sanctuary! Come often to us, fear no wrong; Sit near us on the bough! We'll talk of sunshine and of song, And summer days, when we were young; S

I just bought from Waterstones: Sylvia Plath:Poems selected by Ted Hughes and borrowed from the library: The Secret History by Donna Tartt

L. M. Montgomery

Yen