Susan Hill. (Author focus).

Something new for the blog today: a focus on one of my favourite authors, Susan Hill.

It was after reading, Air & Angels and it subsequently becoming my book of the year 2017, (blog post 01/01/18), that I started thinking about what else this author had written; what other books in her extensive back catalogue I had read, and so, I thought maybe I'd start a new series of posts that focus on the author, not just individual books.

Since the delicate and poetic prose of, Air & Angels, I have read the very atmospheric, The Mist in the Mirror, which makes the hairs on your neck tingle and sends shivers down your spine, (even on a warm autumnal afternoon), and I've just finished, I'm the King of the Castle, a tale of childhood drama, set in the quiet gentile English countryside, where still, the author is able to get your heart racing with just a walk in the woods!

I'm the King of the Castle, did feel a bit dated, it was written in 1970 after all, whereas, Strange Meeting, which is set in France during WWI, gives a poignant reminder to the physical and mental suffering of soldiers at the time, and should be added to anyone's, TBR (to be read) list.

One of Susan Hill's boldest ventures was to write the follow up to one of literature's most famous books, Rebecca, with the sequel, Mrs de Winter, which is also rather good, but without doubt, her most famous book is the amazingly brilliant, Woman in Black, and if I had to recommend just one of the few books of hers that I have read, it would be this one.

Written in the early 80's, that's 1980's by the way, The Woman in Black, is a spooky, creepy, violent, scary, Gothic ghost story of epic proportions, which is not to say it is long, for it is not, but it is a book that stays with you, and since I first read it (thank brother) many years ago, I can't help but see its influence in almost every other ghost story I read.

Set in Victorian England, in a weather drenched Eel Marsh house, you feel the draft through the sashes, the creak of the house as it settles of an eve, and the cold finger of death reaching from the pages when she appears.

Just writing this makes me want to freak myself out again and reread it; brrrrrrh!

So, to conclude, buy a Susan Hill book, the Woman in Black if you like a good scare, but if not, Air & Angels for its poetic prose, Strange Meeting for its thought provoking subject, The Mist in the Mirror, if you like a chiller, but with so many others yet to read, I'm sure that whatever Susan Hill book you choose, you’ll go back for more.

Enjoy.

Air and Angels, book review. (Susan Hill)

FIVE GREAT BIG MASSIVE GOLD STARS.

There, I've said it, there's my review.

Like most bibliophiles, I came across Susan Hill when I read, The Woman in Black, (which is in my top ten books of all time by the way), and then, I read, Mrs De Winter, Susan Hill's sequence to Daphne Du Maurier's, Rebecca, and it was good, not as good as, The Woman in Black, but good all the same. Then, out of nowhere - well, out of a bag of books my brother no longer wanted - I found this, Air and Angels.

WOW!

This book is about as close to poetry as any novel I have read. The words just run across the page like smooth flowing water, drip from the tongue like silk; simply put, I have never read a book so exquisite.

In Cambridge, (famous University city), we have the collage Dean, Thomas Cavendish, his sister, Georgiana, her friend, Florence, (who quite fancies the Dean), and in India, we have Kitty, Florence's cousin, her parents, Lewis and Eleanor, their friends, one of which travels back to England with Kitty in tow, and many more besides.

Simple descriptions provide the reader with all he or she needs to feel, hot in India, cold in Cambridge and isolated in the broads of Norfolk.

I felt so passionate about the brilliance of this book, that I started annotating certain passages, (for people who know me, this will be hard to grasp, for I treat the cheapest and least loved of my books with the greatest respect), and before long I was underlining on almost every page.

I've never done this on my blog before, but because I love this book so much, I'm going to share some of it with you:

In corners and cracks, spiders' webs, and the nests of tiny mice. And when she touched a curtain to draw it back, the faded fabric fell apart, soft as a cloud of powder in her hand.

And no one sees her, no one is aware, except perhaps one man, returning late, glimpses a figure, running before the wind, or a nursemaid, up to a restless child, and, glancing between the curtains, down into the night streets.

But the night drew on, and death lingered outside the door . . .

He felt unreal, bodiless. He felt wonder. Astonishment. Pure, vibrant joy. No dread, no fear, no bewilderment now, but acceptance, as of some miraculous gift. And, looking across at Kitty, love.

So there you have it; a little taster for you. I hope you like what I’ve chosen and that it inspires you to get a copy; you will not be disappointed.