The Haunting of Alma Fielding: A True Ghost Story, book review. (Kate Summerscale)

I don't read a lot of non-fiction so this was a break from the normal but having read Kate Summerscale's superb, The Suspicions of Mr Whicher some years ago, I felt it only right to peruse the leaves of this fine volume.

I know, from being a writer myself, that research is a key part to any narrative, be it fiction or non, but the work that has gone into this book must have been very extensive because, as is very apparent from the beginning, the reader is quickly ensconced into the past, in Alma Fielding's life, her very living room, surrounded by her family, and with cups flying, tables thumping, stranger's jewellery appearing on her hands, eggs flying and items being tossed down the stairs, the writing flows so expertly that you soon forget any scepticisms you may have had when turning the first page, and accept what is happening as truth - that there was a haunting in a London suburb in 1938.
Enter, Nandor Fodor - a Jewish-Hungarian refugee and chief ghost hunter for the International Institute for Psychical Research, who, having read about her case and arranged to meet at the Fielding's house, starts to believe that maybe there is something in the story, that a poltergeist may actually be haunting Alma Fielding. To test this theory, Fodor invited Alma to the institute to undergo tests, tests to see if object will materialise in her presence, like the terrapin that seemed to materialise on her lap during a car journey - and to try and get to the bottom of the mystery.
I truly didn't know how this book would conclude, whether proof of the haunting would be put beyond reasonable doubt by the author and therefore convince the reader that what had happened was genuine, or whether there was fraud at play, and if so, for what purpose - after all, the amount of smashed crockery and ruined food described here would have cost a lot to replace and Alma Fielding was only paid a minimal sum to attend the institute and there was no guarantee that that would have been on the cards when the haunting began; so again, what motive other than a bona fide haunting was there?
Well, you'll have to read the book and draw your own conclusions because, as is usual, I'm giving nothing away here, but what I will say is this: Kate Summerscale has an amazing ability. She writes about what could have been a rather lacklustre incident in 1930s London just before World War II and pulls you in in her skilful way and you're halfway through before you've had time to draw breath, to think, to process, and when you do, when you come up for air and start asking those inevitable questions: is this really real? Did these people really witness these events? Did an International Institute for Psychical Research really exist? You dive back in to get the answers, and that sort of writing is rare and should be applauded and so, four stars for, The Haunting of Alma Fielding is fully deserved and as a book, I whole heartedly recommend it.
Enjoy.

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Pine, book review. (Francine Toon)

Cold, dark, lonely and foreboding with a dash of the spirit world, pretty much sums up, Pine by Francine Toon; a debut novel that garnered much press on its release last year but, what are you really in for?
Lauren (Oren) lives alone with her father, Niall - who drinks too much – in a rundown house on the edge of a pine forest. Being only ten, she relies on her father to not only feed and clothe her but get her to school, love her and keep her safe, which he falls short on some of the time.
It's Halloween and she and her father are driving through the snow to go trick or treating, when a woman runs fleetingly in front of them, or so she thinks, but it isn't until they return and it happens again that Niall pulls over and offers assistance - taking the frail looking woman home with them.
By morning the woman is gone and Niall has forgotten the incident but Lauren has not, and so she starts asking questions, questions her father doesn't like, so Lauren turns to her tarot cards.
Her mother, Christine walked out when she was tiny, never to be seen again, and we learn about her bohemian nature, how she lived (or tried to), free of the burdens and constraints of materialistic life, spiritually, and start to question what might have happened to her. Did she just up and leave, or was there something more sinister going on?
There are those in town that know more than they're letting on, those that suspect Niall of killing her, after all, there's no shortage of places to hide a body in the forest, and then there's the strange goings on: Lauren’s bedroom is completely tidied one day, people see a woman in white but hours later have no recollection of the event – Lauren’s father, her friend from school and a local in the pub all experience that illusion. Then, Ann-Marie, a girl from the village, disappears; a girl who babysat Lauren and was last seen in her father's truck!
Toon’s writing is very descriptive and equally convincing and leaves you cold, lonely, suspicious and on edge; it is also smooth - a strange word ‘smooth’ but accurate all the same, because ninety percent of the book has just the one tempo; which is not a bad thing.

Whether it's Lauren getting lost in the woods, Niall inebriated, the woman in white appearing or the police arriving after Ann-Marie’s disappearance, the tempo remains much the same, and as much as I like the fast, furious action packed spikes and slow plateaus of some books, I think here - whether intentional or not - smooth suited the quiet, empty, haunting-ness of the story, reminding me of Gabriel Tallent's, My Absolute Darling in its descriptive nature (although that one’s far too repetitive), and Eowyn Ivey's, The Snow Child, for its sense of isolation.
Will Ann-Marie and Lauren’s mum be found? Will Niall stop drinking? Who or what is the woman in white? are all questions you’ll have to read the book to find out, but Pine is a good first novel, one I can recommend, so grab a copy and enjoy, especially as it's only getting colder here in England with snow already falling.

Three stars.

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The Haunting of Hill House, book review. (Shirley Jackson)

Another reread and another 'Glad I did' moment when I finished.
On first acquaintance I felt this book rather lacklustre - I cut my teeth on James Herbert and progressed to Susan Hill remember - but something niggled.

I saw reviews on Goodreads championing the book, Bookstagramers on Instagram rating it highly and then, a Netflix series, which got me thinking: what had I missed?
So, as 2021 is the year of the reread, I added it to my list.
The story begins with a Dr Montague having written to numerous individuals across the country who either think they have, or have actually witnessed 'something special', for assistance in an experiment he wishes to conduct, and so he invites them to Hill House, which he has agreed to lease for the summer in order to gain as much evidence as he can that paranormal activity exists - Hill House is widely regarded as one of the most haunted houses ever.

One of the terms of said lease is that Luke Sanderson, the heir to the house, is present, so when Eleanor (who has recently lost the mother she cared for, for most of her life) and Theodora (who is rather bohemian), arrive, being the only two who responded to the doctor, most of the cast is assembled.
The story builds slowly but not too slowly, introducing the characters gradually - and they're all different enough to have a depth and personality of their own and develop little by little throughout the narrative, revealing, right up to the very last pages their strengths and weaknesses. Later, Dr Montague's rather overpowering wife and her side kick, Arthur Parker arrive at the house and add an element of flair to proceedings. Add to that, Mrs Dudley - who doesn't stay at Hill House after dark and sets breakfast at 9, lunch at 1 and dinner at 6, but flitters almost ghostlike in and out of rooms, the house and the narrative, and an element of intrigue is created and one can't help but speculate as to what is real and what is not.

Much of the tension in the book is implied and, rightly or wrongly, I decided that the rattling of doors and thumping of walls was all in Eleanor's head, or she somehow manifested them, as others only seemed to witness it when they were with her, which got me thinking: maybe she was the conduit for the spirits, the reason there was something to witness at all, and had she not been there, whether the others would have spent a rather serene but (from a paranormal activity perspective), rather disappointing summer in an old remote house?

With the book ending the way it did (no spoilers as usual), with Eleanor being ostracised, forced to leave, separated from the others and Hill House - or was she? - I felt I might have got to the crux of this novel, but of course, many of you may disagree or, like me when I first read it, not have analysed it so deeply.

All the same, three and a half stars for this slightly creepy haunted house novel and a better experience than my first read.

Enjoy, and happy Hallowe'en.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them, message me with your recommendations.

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.

The Winter Ghosts by Kate Mosse. A fantastic, moody and thoroughly entertaining read.

Labyrinth.

Worldwide best seller, the first of the trilogy that takes the reader from the twelfth century right through to the modern day, a TV mini-series and a tough act to follow, right? 

Well don't worry, because Kate Mosse has written another blinder. 

Set in the same southern French region as Labyrinth (I was lucky enough to holiday in Perpignan for a couple of years recently) The Winter Ghosts, charts the journey of a lost-sole as he meanders through life, looking for closure on his brother’s death in the Great War. 

Ten years have passed since he heard the news that his brother was gone and all is not well. We get flashbacks of our main character's mental state over those intervening years, and the book draws on the atmosphere of that sorrow and regret, expertly. I would read this book in my car at lunchtime, or in bed at night and feel the cold fear emanating from the pages, excellent work from Mosse. 

I won't put any spoilers in as I want to encourage you all to read this most excellent book and it's only short, so it won't take you long, but so worth it. 

I have Kate Mosse's Sepulchre and Citadel to dive into now, so I'll do just that and report back in due course with the results.

Inspiration for the day goes to all those who still fight for the freedom of speech and the freedom of religion. (If you know or read Kate Mosse's work then you will know the connection, if you don't then grab one of her books and read, read, read. You won't be disappointed.)