Tag: dual time

#BookReview The House of Birds by Morgan McCarthy

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TheHouseofBirdsAbout the Book

Oliver has spent years trying to convince himself that he’s suited to a life of money making in the city, and that he doesn’t miss a childhood spent in pursuit of mystery, when he cycled around the cobbled lanes of Oxford, exploring its most intriguing corners.

When his girlfriend Kate inherits a derelict house – and a fierce family feud – she’s determined to strip it, sell it and move on. For Oliver though, the house has an allure, and amongst the shelves of discarded, leather bound and gilded volumes, he discovers one that conceals a hidden diary from the 1920s.

So begins a quest: to discover the identity of the author, Sophia Louis. It is a portrait of war and marriage, isolation and longing and a story that will shape the future of the abandoned house – and of Oliver – forever.

Format: Paperback (464 pages)  Publisher: Tinder Press
Publication date: 1st June 2017 Genre: Dual Time

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My Review

It will come as no secret to regular followers of this blog that I sometimes find dual-time novels problematic, often finding myself more drawn to the past timeline than the present. However, in The House of Birds, the author manages to pull off the feat of making the two timelines both equally interesting and, indeed, interdependent.

The book moves between the present day story of Oliver, who finds himself rather adrift having quit a job he never really liked but not sure exactly what he wants to do next, and that of Sophia Louis whose life is documented in a journal Oliver discovers when clearing out the old house inherited by his girlfriend, Kate, who is off in New York pursuing a promotion opportunity. What starts as a project to fill a gap between jobs becomes something more as Oliver begins to feel a connection with the house, an obligation to save it even.  Unravelling the mystery of just who Sophia Louis was and what became of her provides Oliver with something to focus on, to draw him out of his apathetic state.

I liked the way Sophia’s story is revealed in instalments, in a way that is akin to a puzzle. Indeed, at one point, Oliver becomes irritated that her journal ends suddenly and, seemingly, unfinished. ‘Oliver was baffled and outraged. He felt keenly that Sophia – so aware of her reader had treated him unfairly.’ I also loved Sophia’s witty, teasing style of writing, often addressing her reader directly. But just who is Sophia’s intended reader? And why did she feel the need to hide the journal?

The story Sophia tells is one of disappointment, sadness, forbidden love, thwarted ambition, and the cruel and longlasting legacy of war, in this case the First World War. The latter is embodied in a character who is a tragic figure – ‘the grim king of a grim land’ – imprisoned in self-imposed silence and seeing the world as full of danger, of ‘black and smoking chaos’.

But how much of the story Sophia tells is true? Could her journal be fiction rather than fact? Indeed, Oliver ponders, ‘What if Sophia were a character in someone else’s novel?’ (I bet the author had a little chuckle to herself when she wrote that.)

As Oliver follows the trail Sophia has left, puzzling it out alongside the reader, it causes him to reflect on his own life. As he observes, ‘It’s ironic really. [Sophia] knew exactly what she wanted, but she couldn’t have any of it. I’ve had the opportunity to do whatever I want to do, and it seems like in almost thirty years I’ve only just managed to work out what that might be’. Oliver undergoes a kind of epiphany as he realises it’s not too late to pursue his childhood ambition, a path he was dissuaded from taking by his parents. In a way, he comes to feel he owes it to Sophia.

There is some beautiful descriptive writing, full of clever metaphors, such as this passage in which Oliver, as a young boy, first glimpses the rather neglected ‘House of Birds’ and its overgrown garden.

‘The darkly varnished ivy was tussling with the white bindweed over ownership of a sagging fence, while not far away, a honeysuckle, unchallenged, had claimed a garden table and swallowed a small tree. The lawn was an army massing under high spears, its regiments filing into the cracks between the paving stones to do battle with the dandelions. Above them the wisteria maintained a lordly rule over the house itself, loaded with it spectacular purple flowers, hundreds of fluttering confetti showers clamouring for the friskings of the bees.’

The House of Birds is the first novel I’ve read by Morgan McCarthy and, although she has written three previous novels, none of them appear to have been as positively received by readers as this one, and she has written nothing since. That’s a shame because I really enjoyed The House of Birds. I found the story enthralling, romantic without being sentimental and with some really clever touches. In fact, I imagined Sophia laughing to herself at an inspired one that occurs towards the end of the book.

In three words: Tender, intriguing, assured

Try something similar: The House at Helygen by Victoria Hawthorne

Morgan McCarthyAbout the Author

Morgan McCarthy lives in Berkshire, and has been writing since primary school. She is the author of four novels: The Other Half of Me, The Outline of Love, Strange Girls and Ordinary Women, and The House of Birds. (Bio/photo: Publisher author page)

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#BookReview All The Broken Places by John Boyne

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All The Broken PlacesAbout the Book

1946. Three years after a cataclysmic event which tore their lives apart, a mother and daughter flee Poland for Paris, shame, and fear at their heels, not knowing how hard it is to escape your past.

Nearly eighty years later, Gretel Fernsby lives a life that is a far cry from her traumatic childhood. When a couple moves into the flat below her in her London mansion block, it should be nothing more than a momentary inconvenience. However, the appearance of their nine-year-old son Henry brings back memories she would rather forget.

Faced with a choice between her own safety and his, Gretel is taken back to a similar crossroads she encountered long ago. Back then, her complicity dishonoured her life, but to interfere now could risk revealing the secrets she has spent a lifetime protecting.

Format: Hardback (384 pages)                Publisher: Doubleday
Publication date: 15th September 2022 Genre: Historical Fiction

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My Review

I have the feeling I may be one of the few people in the world who has not read The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas or seen the film adaptation. I wondered if this would effect my appreciation of this, its sequel; the answer is a definite no. In fact All The Broken Places may be one of the most memorable and thought-provoking novels I read this year. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve found it so difficult to write a review that will do it justice. (I’m still not sure I have.)

Moving between past and present, we gradually learn about Gretel’s childhood and the impact her proximity to the horrific events of the Holocaust has had on her. Having had an early taste of what her identity becoming known might result in, the majority of Gretel’s life has been spent hiding her past, adopting new identities when disclosure is threatened, moving to new places and being in a constant state of watchfulness.

In addition, she has lived with a constant sense of guilt – at the dreadful things that took place ‘on the other side of the fence’ and her part in the death of a loved one.  ‘Guilt was what kept you awake in the middle of the night or, if you managed to sleep, poisoned your dreams. Guilt intruded upon any happy moments, whispering in your ear that you had no right to pleasure. Guilt followed you down streets, interrupting the most mundane moments with remembrances of days and hours when you could have done something to prevent tragedy but chose to do nothing.’ Managing those feelings of guilt has meant repressing unwelcome memories. There are photographs Gretel can’t bear to look at, a location she refers to only as ‘that other place’, a name she can’t bear to say.

There are a number of occasions on which Gretel is challenged about her defence that she was ‘just a child’ and had no knowledge of what was taking place. And, that even if it was true, she did nothing after the war to help bring the perpetrators to justice. In fact that she took deliberate steps to avoid this. When, soon after the end of the war, she is presented with indisputable evidence of what occurred and how close she was to that cruelty, the effect on her is so unbearable it results in a catastrophic act and the destruction of a relationship.

In the book there are not just broken places but broken people too. Gretel, of course, but also her mother, and Gretel’s new neighbour Madelyn.

There are moments of light amongst the darkness. For example, Gretel’s tender relationship with her vulnerable neighbour, Heidi, and the way she bonds with young Henry. And Edgar, Gretel’s late husband, whom we meet at the very beginning of their relationship, is a wonderful model of devotion, understanding and acceptance.

All the Broken Places is an unsparing exploration of how the sins of the past can weigh on individuals and the burden of complicity. ‘By doing nothing, you did everything. By taking no responsibility, you bear all responsibility.’ The book poses some difficult questions. If someone you love commits terrible acts is it right to still love them? Can anything you do ever make up for the sins of others? Is taking one life to save another justified?

I’m not sure the actions Gretel takes at the end of the book represent sufficient reparation given the scale of the evil that occurred in ‘that other place’ but I got the sense Gretel thought they did and she viewed the consequences of her actions as a kind of justice, as the punishment she deserved.

In his afterword, the author states his belief that, for all the mistakes in her life and her complicity in evil, Gretel’s story is still worth telling but it’s up to the reader to decide if it’s worth reading.  My conclusion is an unequivocal yes.

I received an advance digital copy courtesy of Doubleday via NetGalley.

In three words: Powerful, moving, thought-provoking

John BoyneAbout the Author

John Boyne is the author of thirteen novels for adults, six for younger readers and a collection of short stories. His 2006 novel The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas has sold more than 11 million copies worldwide and has been adapted for cinema, theatre, ballet and opera. His many international bestsellers include The Heart’s Invisible Furies and A Ladder to the Sky. He has won three Irish Book Awards, along with a host of other international literary prizes. His novels are published in over fifty languages. (Photo: Goodreads author page)

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