Friday, March 25, 2022

Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel

From her position on stage, eight-year-old Kirsten witnesses the death of a Hollywood icon during his performance as King Lear at a Toronto theatre. That same evening a deadly flu virus arrives in the city, and within days the world as we know it has collapsed. Twenty years later, Kirsten is herself an actor, touring Shakespeare with the Travelling Symphony, crossing dangerous territory to bring theatre and music to communities of survivors.

This could easily have been written during the first lockdown of 2020 but was actually published six years earlier, and other than the virulence of the disease and the vast death toll, nothing in here feels exaggerated. The reactions of the protagonists and the world around them feel very real, even down to the bulk-buying of toilet paper in an early chapter.

But this isn’t really a book about a virus, or even about the end of the world. It’s a book about human connection, even where that connection is tangential, and about the importance of the things ‘beyond survival’ that bind us together. While the narrative arcs back and forth between characters, times and places both pre- and post-pandemic, the connections are subtly and sometimes surprisingly revealed.

It's a tribute to the quality of the storytelling here that I have continued to think about elements of the story in the weeks since reading it. This is not a happy book, but it is gently reassuring, and it repeatedly reminds us that ‘Survival is Insufficient’. Being human is not merely about existing and procreating, but also, and more importantly, it’s about memory, connection, the things we carry with us and the things we leave behind.

- Paul



Paperback, £9.99. Find it in the fiction section!

Friday, March 18, 2022

Tipping the Velvet, by Sarah Waters

Purchased from Gay's the Word; the most fantastic all-LGBTQIA+ bookshop in Bloomsbury, London. Upon standing in front of the storefront, I declared to my friend: "I am in search of historical gays!" I wanted a story of incognito queers from decades; heck, CENTURIES passed. I wanted androgyny and bravery and a total disregard for strict social codes.

Oooooh boy, did Sarah Waters come THROUGH!

Tipping the Velvet follows Nancy Astley, as she falls in love with a performer at the music halls, Kitty Butler. Kitty dresses as a man in her act, and Nancy is completely enthralled by it all. Things escalate quickly and, after moving to London with Kitty, she finds that things aren't as simple as falling in love and building a life when you're both women. Nancy finds herself tumbling all over London, trying to find herself with one foot in one world, and one in another.

Nancy sees it all: cross-dressing, prostitution, rags and riches, sex, androgyny, homophobia, ostracisation, heartbreak, familial bonds - both blood and chosen - acceptance, social change... her world is a chaotic blur of over ground and underground cultures battling it out. Not once does Nancy even consider re-joining the straight-laced (pardon the pun) life she was born into, and she is heroic in her efforts to stand proudly and independently in her resolve. I admire her courage and tenacity; though I cringe at her greed and shallowness.

She is by no means a diamond in the rough, but is as scuffed and filthy as the rest of the world. And that's how she gripped me! She didn't necessarily deserve stability, sanctuary, and security any more than any other character in this book, so I just had to know whether or not she found it!

This book has a message of forgiveness; of personal growth, and understanding when to let go. It reminds us that we can build communities around us that make us feel whole and safe. As a queer individual, this is especially powerful, and I implore anyone who identifies under the LGBT+ umbrella to read this book! But no one under 18... it's a little graphic at times!

A new firm favourite; one of the best books I've read in YEARS!


- Sian


Paperback, £8.99. Find it in the fiction section!



Thursday, March 10, 2022

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, by Agatha Christie

In this Agatha Christie masterpiece, first published in 1926, the great detective Poirot has retired to King's Abbot, home of an old friend of his, the wealthy Roger Ackroyd. Despite hoping to remain anonymous, Poirot's peace is shattered when Ackroyd is murdered.

Dr Sheppard was at Ackroyd's house the night of the murder, and over the course of the investigation, he appears as Poirot's sidekick, since Hastings has married and is now living in Argentina.

The narrative is told from Dr Sheppard’s point of view as he documents the investigation, the sparks of genius from Poirot, and his famous little grey cells. As Hastings did before him, Sheppard gives insight into the workings of Poirot's analytical mind, as well as throwing light on the nuances of the suspects. Whilst Poirot sees them as pieces of the puzzle, Sheppard reveals them as people who are as flawed, as they are good.

Between the murder and the big reveal, the plot contains Agatha Christie's famous twists and turns. There are plenty of red herrings and many interpretations of the facts presented. This book is famous for its unusual and, at the time, innovative, ground-breaking ending. It is the kind of book you want to go back and read again once the killer has been revealed, to see if the clues do in fact, fit the revelation.

Christie's book are timeless, satisfying the need for a great whodunnit, as successfully as they did on first publication. Her ability to write twisting plots and multi-layered characters still captures the imagination of generation after generation.

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd was voted the best novel ever by the British Crime Writers Association in 2013. It would be a crime not to read it! It is my favourite of all the brilliant novels Agatha Christie wrote and is a treat for fans of this genre.





- Milly

Friday, March 4, 2022

The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Our narrator - and only redeemable character - Nick moves into a small rented home, next door to an almost constant party. He discovers that somehow he knows the mysterious Gatsby, who hosts the parties in his mansion. 

I know this story is meant to be a renowned romance but I just can't believe Gatsby's claim of true love. I did not see any depth of feeling: merely Gatsby’s obsession with a woman he once dated. I feel the reality of it is that Gatsby was a poor man who latched on to the idea of wealth, which seems to have gotten mixed up with his feelings for Daisy, who is herself superficial and frivolous. Gatsby is so completely enamoured by their glamor and beauty, that he forgets about substance. And in order to win her he must prove himself to her. He must prove “new money” is as good; as influential as “old money”. This is the difference between Gatsby and the Bucanans.

The Bucanans and their friends seem to simply sit around drinking and using other people for their entertainment. All the characters are deplorable, which I can stand in some literature (I’m looking at you Cathy and Heathcliff!) when there is more to the love connection than admiration for looks or the way a woman carries herself. I could find no redeeming features or motives in this crowd. It ultimately shows the influence and power behind old money, and the horrible truth: people with money and social power get away with murder.

I feel like Fitzgerald was a little lazy with his conveniently connected but unconnected characters and their placements, e.g. Nick conveniently moving in next door to Gatsby, and his previous separate connections with both Daisy and Gatsby.

Generally, I love classic fiction, but I did not get on well with Fitzgerald. I found this classic hard to get into, with Fitzgerald’s writing style being a little too poetic and vague to really get my teeth into. The characters were unlovable and flimsy. I would recommend that anyone wanting to be introduced to classics choose something else.


- Anara



Paperback, £6.99. Find it in the Classics section!

Saturday, February 26, 2022

The Georgians, by Penelope J. Corfield

This book left me stunned. How can one person, even an Emeritus Professor like Corfield, know so much about so many topics – and have the skill to fit them together in this highly, highly readable Rubik’s cube? She admits in the introduction that the book has taken many years to complete and I can believe it. I have seldom read a book that covers so much so well.

The book comprises five parts:
I. The Georgian Debating an Age of Change
II. The Georgians Experiencing Change in Daily Life
III. The Georgians Ruling and Resisting
IV. The Georgians in Social Ferment
V. The Georgians Viewed Long

Oh, and approximately sixty pages of erudite endnotes.

 As can be deduced from that structure, Corfield shows us how things changed over the long eighteenth century, illustrating points with the stories of individuals; citing books; and at the end of each chapter, suggesting further reading; a list of places to visit in person or online; and even a Youtube performance of The Rivals. She makes the point that Georgians were aware of change, and were keen to share their views about it, for better or worse. Corfield goes back to sources and debunks several myths.

Based upon Corfield’s book, my belief is that the reason it’s so interesting to look back and study the Georgian Age was because, as she states, the numbers of both men and women who were literate and numerate overtook – for the first time in Britain’s history – the numbers of the illiterate and innumerate. That increase in people who COULD write, translated into an increase in the numbers who DID write – and hence we have so much more evidence of contemporary thoughts and beliefs than we do for previous ages.

But it is such a comprehensive book and so well argued that you might have a different view – and so might I, the next time I read it. And I shall re-read it, probably several times – and certainly keep it as my “go to” reference book for ALL aspects of life from the 1690s to the 1830s.


- Colin





Hardback, £25. Find it in the history section!


Friday, February 18, 2022

Flush, by Virginia Woolf

Anyone who's visited the store with their perfect pooch in tow can testify to the fact that I am a passionate advocate for dogs. As a cause, it is my number one! More dogs, fewer humans, that's what I always say! AND more books about dogs. 

Virginia Woolf, the icon that she is, wrote a book about a dog. A real dog! Elizabeth Bennett Browning's dog, whose name was Flush. The perfect cocker spaniel; a beautiful soul, a wonderful companion. This books lends itself both as a biography for Flush, but also for Elizabeth Bennett Browning, albeit with a lot of creative liberties taken, of course. We see her life progress, only as it comes to affect Flush: how much attention he's getting, what sort of walks he's been on. It's such a charming concept, and it was lovely read over Christmas... for the most part.

Poor Flush, as dogs usually are, was merely swept up in the lives of the humans around him. I felt sorry for Flush for a sizeable chunk of this book. It transpires that Elizabeth had what we would now recognise to be Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. And since she spent most of her time alone in her bedroom, resting, so did Flush. The poor little tyke, for years, merely sat on the sofa beside her. As a dog owner myself, I couldn't imagine condemning any dog to this docile life, let alone a spaniel! Have you ever met a spaniel? They're mental! And this is just the beginnings of the stresses and traumas that Flush endures throughout the course of his life.

During troubling times for Flush, the book became very difficult to read. The vivid description from his point of view was disarming and upsetting, to say the least. I found myself furious with the humans who left sweet Flush to his fate. It was quite grounding to see our actions through the eyes of an innocent and loyal animal, and reminded me how wholly they rely on us for their happiness and health.

This book was surprisingly well fleshed out, considering the narrator is a spaniel, and it was just nice to allow myself to be swept up in the story, and not question its accuracy too much. It was both a lovely and a haunting read for a dog-lover. Only proceed if you can keep your furry little friend close by for quick squeezes and snuggles when things get tough for Flush!


- Sian



Paperback, £2. Find it in the classics section!

Friday, February 11, 2022

The Eye of The World, by Robert Jordan

Before I start this review, let me give you a piece of advice: don't read the blurb on the back of this book. It didn't completely ruin my reading experience, but it does give a spoiler that does not actually occur until the very last page of the book. So! Here’s a blurb that does not include that spoiler....

“The Eye of The World” is the first book in the “Wheel of Time” series, which is an epic high fantasy series of 14 books – yes, fourteen books. We start in a small village in Two Rivers where Moraine meets 3 young men who are being hunted by evil agents of the Shadow. She must guide them through lands of myth and legend to Tar Valon, where they will be safe.

And that is all you really need to know - the rest is best left untold until you discover it in your reading.

Overall, I really enjoyed this. If you haven’t read fantasy before, this would not be a good one to start with. The world is very complex, and Jordan does not take the time to explain it. When the story starts, it's like you’re expected to know all the terminology and the history of this world already. Thankfully there’s a glossary at the back, which I used extensively to understand what’s being referred to. But it does get easier as the book goes on.

Something worth noting about the glossary: it doesn't tell you anything that the characters do not already know or will be explained to them. For instance, “The Eye of The World” is not in the glossary; whilst one of the characters knows what it is, the rest do not. The glossary doesn’t spoil anything: when it’s revealed, you find out with the rest of the characters.

I did find that about midway through I started to struggle. The entire book is told in the third person, mainly from Rand's perspective. Around the middle, however, there is a narrative change, and after seeing so much from Rand's perspective, I really found it difficult to adapt to that change. Eventually I did appreciate it and found it actually gave me a more rounded out experience of what was happening.

One of my biggest "complaints" about this book is its similarities to “The Lord of the Rings” series. There is a journey, there is a magical person guiding a group of seemingly hapless people, there are even species similar to Orcs and Nazgul. However - Tolkien was the father of epic fantasy series and it's inevitable that high fantasy books written after “The Lord of The Rings” will have been influenced by them.

So, the big question is: Will I continue with this series? The answer is yes. I found this to be a real page turner, and the writing very accessible. I loved the cast of characters and I want to know what will happen to them. Despite similarities with “The Lord of Rings”, this series still has enough original storyline to keep me excited and invested.

- Jenny (@budgetbooklover)




Paperback, £9.99. Find it in the Sci-fi & Fantasy section!