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.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

The Hunger Games is an astonishing achievement and a hugely impressive piece of writing. Suzanne Collins is the consummate story-teller, and Katniss Everdeen is a brilliantly voiced heroine. Written in the first person and in the immediate present Collins carefully constructed prose gives her protagonist both a believable voice and a thrilling sense of immediacy. You find yourself drawn into the book through an invisible magnetic bond that you cannot shake off.

As I read the book I found a strong echo of Stephen King, particularly in his earlier novels such as The Shining and The Stand. When I was a teenager King had an ability to grab me by the throat; I was unable to stop reading until the early hours of the morning as I breathlessly finished many of his novels. Although the Hunger Games is purportedly targeted at the “Young Adult” audience I think its themes are universal and transcend any notion of narrow audience boundaries.

Set in a dystopian near-future the plot revolves around The Hunger Games, a televised fight to the death game show where a boy and girl are chosen as “Tributes” from each of the twelve surviving districts of North America (which Collins calls Panem), to provide a gladiatorial entertainment for the masses. When her younger sister’s name is drawn Katniss volunteers in her place, alongside Peeta Mellark, a boy with whom she shares a history and their adventures begin.

If I had two very minor criticisms of the book they would be that the minor characters within the games are fairly one-dimensional, most being killed before their characters can be fully established. The other point that irritated me was the lack of any mention of the cameras that must be filming every move for the reality show. This seemed like an opportunity missed by Collins as I felt that the awareness of these cameras (and their possible destruction) could have added another dimension to the piece and a greater sense of realism. However these are very minor gripes in what was otherwise a truly remarkable book.

Suspend all belief and allow yourself to be carried away into The Hunger Games. Just remember to breathe (at least between chapters!).

Books to Read

I feel as though I need to develop insomnia if I’m to make any headway with my “To be read” pile, which stretches skywards in my study like a particularly malicious game of Jenga.

I’m currently reading “Mockingjay” by Suzanne Collins, having read both “The Hunger Games” and “Catching Fire” over the weekend. I don’t know which particular rock I was hiding under when these were first published but I’m slightly embarrassed that I missed out on them. However I’m really enjoying them now, hence the slightly obsessive blast through them. 

In some vague sense of establishing a sense of order the rest of the pile currently lines up as follows: -

1. Peaches for Monsieur Le Curé – Joanne Harris
2. The Light Between Oceans -  M. L. Stedman
3. Gillespie and I – Jane Harris
4. The Red House – Mark Haddon
5. Keeper – Andrea Gillies
6. About Last Night – Adele Parks
7. The Sense of an Ending – Julian Barnes
8. The Reconstructionist – Josephine Hart
9. Sweets from Morocco – Jo Verity
10. Your Blue-eyed Boy – Helen Dunmore
11. The Girl With Glass Feet – Ali Shaw
12. This isn’t the sort of thing that happens to someone like you – Jon McGregor
13. Unless – Carol Shields
14. The Accidental – Ali Smith
15. Strandloper – Alan Garner
16. Nail Your Novel – Roz Morris
17. From Pitch to Publication – Carole Blake.

Wow! I think I need to take a month off work to try and attempt a catch-up. Either that or a very long flight…Australia maybe?

blueeyedboy by Joanne Harris

I find that a novel is far more enjoyable if it offers a challenge and Joanne Harris’s ninth novel offers a host of them. It is a multi-layered book that will make you constantly re-assess exactly what you’ve been told whilst you try to fathom exactly where you’re being taken. It requires you to trust the author’s innate sense of truth and balance, and it doesn’t disappoint.

It has the feeling of a fiendish Japanese puzzle where all of the parts tessellate, but none seem to fit. Indeed Harris herself has likened to novel both to a Rubik’s Cube and the Lemarchand Box from Clive Barker’s “Hellraiser” series. It is certainly as fiendish and in my view Harris’s writing has never been stronger or more deftly constructed.

I’ve always loved unreliable narrators (from Nick Carraway to Holden Caulfield) and in her two main protagonists blueeyedboy and Albertine Harris has created two deliciously unreliable storytellers. In a modern take on an epistolary novel they communicate through alternating blogs on a website called Badguysrock, and we all know that in the virtual world of the internet people are often not who they claim to be.

It’s difficult to comment on the intricate plot without revealing massive spoilers (a task which even the book jacket failed to achieve). However it is brilliantly plotted, and will keep you guessing at every turn, following the pattern that she established with Gentlemen and Players.

The book has attracted conflicting reviews, and Harris refers to it as her “Marmite” book (you either love it or hate it). Having now read it three times I’ve enjoyed it at every reading, despite the fact that I now where it’s going. I think it’s a work of genius and I feel privileged to have joined “#Team Marmite”.

Everything in the Garden by Jo Verity

Jo Verity’s debut novel is a fascinating read. The story is a straightforward tale of four sets of middle-aged friends who jointly buy a large rambling farmhouse in Wales, intending to grow old together. However, tensions grow within the group, particularly for the main protagonist Anna when her best friend’s husband Bill starts making passes at her.

For any novelist it’s quite a challenge having a group of eight main characters and creating sufficient differentiation between them that a reader can easily remember them and readily identify just who is who. I must admit that I resorted to making a little list of the four couples, just so that I could remember who was married to whom.

Also Peter and Mark are hardly mentioned, leaving just the six main characters to juggle, along with a large supporting cast of daughters, boyfriends and friends. The good news is that Jo Verity juggles with consummate ease, and she creates a readable and plausible story which relies more on emotions than upon simple plot devices.

Not everything in this particular garden is rosy and eventually the plot takes a progressively darker tone. I’d be interested to see Jo try writing a dark thriller; I have a feeling she’d be quite successful.

If I am being picky I think she could have concentrated a little more on the character of Prosser in the earlier stages of the book, particularly as he has such a key part to play later on. But her real strength as a writer is revealed in her deft handling of the character of Anna who is utterly believable with a credible voice. I found myself rooting for Anna on many levels, which must be a testament to the empathy that Jo manages to create.

If I’m being honest I think I would have to say that as a novel I preferred “Not Funny Not Clever” more. However given that this novel is a much earlier work it is well worth reading to see a writer honing her craft. For me “Everything in the Garden” is well worth cultivating.