Peaches for Monsieur le Cure by Joanne Harris

The popular wisdom is that it’s often a mistake to revisit earlier successes. Try telling that to Joanne Harris.

Just once in a while you read a book that is so good, so well-written that you can’t leave it behind, and you find that long after closing the final pages the characters are still intruding on your life, slipping into your thoughts throughout the working day. Many of Harris’s novels seem to have that effect on me, but possibly none more so than this one.

This is an absolute gem of a book, deftly plotted and beautifully constructed. The pace is measured and never rushed as Harris confidently interweaves the narratives of her main characters. With an interesting twist it could be argued that Vianne Rocher is not truly the main protagonist this time around, as the plot spirals around Father Reynaud as he struggles to deal with the influx of Muslim Maghrebins into the sleepy village of Lansquenet. Set around Ramadan (in itself a clever echo back to the Lenten setting of “Chocolat”) Vianne’s return to Lansquenet with her daughters Anouk and Rosette finds the village trying to cope with women wearing the niqab and the appearance of a mosque.

The book raises a number of questions about the nature of communities and the prejudice with which outsiders are viewed. However, as you would expect, it does so with a subtle touch rather than a heavy hand. Harris neatly encapsulates the main themes of the book with the phrase “everything returns” which echoes throughout the story, layering the plot threads into an integrated whole.

For anyone following the trajectory of Harris’s writing career this novel stands alongside Chocolat in representing the zenith of that curve. I am in awe of her talent and fervently hope that she is drawn back into her shed to write whilst her muse remains such a fascinating enchantress.

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins

“Mockingjay” is the final instalment of the Hunger Games trilogy and represents a far darker and bleaker view than the earlier two novels. Although ostensibly still aimed at the Young Adult market it’s almost as if Suzanne Collins has decided that the story needs to grow up at a similar rate to her prospective readers. So you can consider yourself fully warned; don’t expect a light hearted conclusion to the trilogy.

I have thoroughly enjoyed reading all three novels although I am far removed from the target demographic. I found Collins to be a master-storyteller (no gender-based puns intended or required) and remarkably even-handed, irrespective of whether it’s a main character or a member of the minor supporting cast who is being killed off. The truth is that very few survive, but that will come as no surprise to readers familiar with the gritty realism that Collins employs.

I felt that her skill at characterisation improved considerably from the first book and I felt a real sense of identification with the problems and difficulties that the main characters experience. Katniss’s descent into depression and lethargy is particularly well-written and heartbreakingly accurate.

For me the epilogue felt a little unnecessary and I wondered why Collins felt the need to write it. I must try to do some research on-line to see if anyone has asked her this question. I suppose that after the machinations of the fairly convoluted plot had played out perhaps she saw it as a simpler, cleaner ending. But to me the conclusion of the book felt somewhat rushed after such careful plotting to reach this point.

However to sum up this third and final novel is harsh, brutal, and utterly relentless.

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

Catching Fire is the second novel in The Hunger Games series and demonstrates that Suzanne Collins really understands the power of the story. The novel develops the story of Katniss Everdeen and Peta Mellark following their success in the televised fight-to-the-death game show The Hunger Games.

It is immediately apparent that this is a far darker tale than the first novel and Collins creates a believable scenario of manipulation and exploitation for her characters. This does affect the pacing of the story, and the first half of the novel is slower than its predecessor, but that’s an inevitable consequence of trying to write the broader plot development that is needed to sustain a trilogy.

To my mind one of the strong points of the book is that the minor characters are given greater weight and depth than the rather one-dimensional supporting cast of the first novel. Collins manages to create an ensemble cast that engages you emotionally, and you care what happens to them. She also introduces two great characters in Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason (who will reappear in the final part of the trilogy).

Some reviewers have criticised the narrowness of her dystopian world-view, suggesting that her world-building could be stronger with a greater global sweep. I think this rather misses the point, and it should be remembered that Collins is primarily targeting the Young Adult audience. Whilst I felt that some of her symbolism was a little obvious I felt that she struck a good balance between the need to move the story on, whilst also broadening the overall vision.

As with the first novel I was again somewhat irritated by the lack of any mention of the cameras that must be filming every move within the arena for the reality show. I still felt that this was a missed opportunity by Collins which could have added another dimension to the piece, and a wider comment about surveillance, but overall this seems rather like sour grapes when considered against the many strengths of the novel.

Absorbing and compelling, this novel acts as an excellent bridge between “The Hunger Games” and “Mockingjay” and will not disappoint.