The Red Arrow by William Brewer

 'A failed American novelist is on honeymoon in Italy, but the day of this story he's travelling from Rome to Modena by the 'frecciarossa' high-speed train (the 'red arrow' of the book's title). He's in the process of ghost-writing the life story of a famous physicist, but the physicist has disappeared - refusing to answer e-mails or phone calls. This has put our unnamed narrator in a fix, as finishing the memoir was the only way he could write off a huge advance from his publishers, but he's hoping to find the physicist at home on his family estate. 

While the train rushes through Italian countryside, the narrator's thoughts wonder back over his life - through years of depression and the life-altering psychedelic drug treatment which saved him. 

The Red Arrow is a difficult book to describe without giving a complete spoiler. The writing is straight forward, very American to my mind (though I'd be hard pressed to describe what exactly I mean by that), but the narrator's thoughts are circuitous, constantly circling round the big 'treatment' event without approaching it. Even so, I found it very readable. 

There's a huge amount of coincidence or interconnectedness to events and characters, and a resolution which resembles the 'which came first; the chicken or the egg?' conundrum. To be honest this seems only fair and fitting as I picked this read up from Netgalley solely on the basis that one of our local buses is named the Red Arrow. What I didn't expect was the brief appearance of my grandmother's next door neighbour, D H Lawrence, but that's coincidence for you.  

All in all, an intriguing book, and one I think I'll read again.

The Mysterious Island by Saviour Pirotta

 

illustrated by Davide Ortu

Wolf lives in the Neolithic Age on the islands of Orkney, off the north coast of Britain. He's no good at the things that matter to his family and fellow islanders - things like fishing, hunting, or minding sheep - but has at last discovered his place in life and how to help his people, by becoming a shaman. The village's current shaman is willing to help him, but the shaman's son, Rain, who has never really liked Wolf, wants to be the one to replace his father, and his ambition will stop at nothing. 

Now, Rain has stolen Wolf's precious amulet, and in an attempt to retrieve it Wolf and his friend Crow (a young female warrior) find themselves on a journey across seas and unknown lands to an island at the centre of the world. Along the way Wolf and Crow see caves filled with paintings, a mountain that shoots fire into the sky, and temples constructed by long-forgotten people, but the most important discovery comes from within Wolf himself; that forgiveness is better than retaliatory anger.

This third book in the Wolfsong series continues Wolf's story on the path to achieving his ambition of becoming a shaman, to help his people interpret the spirits around them, and to conquer the evil ones that live within him. Aimed at children aged 7 and over, it fits well with Key Stage 2 history, but is first and foremost an adventure story, full of dangers and wonders, bringing the past to life with characters and situations that children can relate to, aided as always by Davide Ortu's illustrations. 

The Mercenary River: Private Greed, Public Good: A History of London's Water By Nick Higham

Clean water available at the turn of a tap is something we all take for granted, at least in the 'developed' world. If you think about it at all it's when something goes wrong and supply fails, or when a documentary about conditions elsewhere reminds you of the value of water piped to your home. Does anyone wonder where their water actually comes from? Probably not; we've grown to expect it to be there when needed. And does anyone ever wonder about WHO decided to pipe water into our homes, and WHY?

These are the thoughts that prompted Nick Higham to research the history behind London's water system. It's basically a tale of two halves - on one hand of the recognition that fresh water delivered via pipes is a basic need, keeping dirt and disease at bay, especially in over-crowded cities; on the other, the realisation that there's money to be made in providing that service. It shouldn't really come as a surprise that such a basic necessity was so easily turned into a source of profit, and at such an early date, but somehow it does.

Medieval Londoners were supplied with water, surprisingly at no cost, via conduits, but as the city grew, so did its need for water, and, from 1619 with the setting up of the New River company, so did the network of pipes carrying it, and ultimately carrying sewerage away. And with the supply of water came other things - the creation of civil engineering, and a new form of financing; the joint stock corporation. The history of London's water supply is seen to be inevitably linked to so many aspects of life from health and hygiene to powering industry to nepotism and financial corruption. 

Considering the complexity and breadth of the subject, The Mercenary River is very readable, balancing anecdotes about the entrepreneurs, investors, and engineers associated with these colossal projects with the overwhelming amount of facts and figures necessarily involved. It's not a light bedside read but if you've an interest in the who and what and why of the development of society than it's very interesting. 

Traitor in the Ice by K J Maitland

In the aftermath of the Gunpowder Plot, King James and his officials are looking to track down one of the perpetrators, perhaps even the mastermind behind the whole affair, who goes by the false name of Spero Pettingar, One of their agents is sent to investigate rumours that Pettingar may be in hiding at Battle Abbey, but is soon found dead, struck down and left to freeze in the dreadful cold. So Daniel Pursglove is despatched on the same mission - to infiltrate the household of Battle Abbey, home of Lady Magdalen Montague, a fervent Catholic and known supporter of priests and possible traitors - and to track down the murderer. 

Daniel finds a house of many secrets - a few hidden priests seems to be the least of them - and as with any secret of a dangerous nature people are prepared to kill to protect it. Daniel, obviously, has only his wits to help him solve the crime; no fingerprints or DNA, no minuscule spy cameras to catch people's movements, and it makes for a story that's very different to a modern thriller. The mix of fiction and historical fact is well done, with details such as Daniel's day-to-day role in the household, and the dire freezing winter of 1607 adding to the atmosphere and authenticity. 

This is the second 'outing' for Daniel Pursglove, and I think it's better to have read the first before this. There are a couple of initially confusing flashbacks to his past which I assume would make more sense if I'd read the books in order.

 

Trespasses by Louise Kennedy

 Cushla and Michael first meet one evening in her family's pub just outside Belfast. Their attraction is instant and mutual, but what do a young, single, Catholic teacher and an older, married, Protestant barrister have in common, especially when British soldiers stand armed on every street, and sectarian violence is erupting all around them?

Meanwhile through a boy in her class, Cushla becomes involved in the welfare of a mixed Protestant/Catholic family. She starts out with the best of intentions, but it seems like everything she does just makes things worse. 

Set in 1970s Belfast, Trespasses is a Romeo and Juliet style tale of two people drawn to each other in defiance of everything that stands in their way. 

Beautiful and shocking at the same time, it's told from Cushla's perspective, and the reader can sense the desire sweeping her off her feet, going against everything she considers sensible, and the doubts that plague her about Michael - does he really feel the same, or is she just another extra-marital affair to him?  

It's both wonderful and heartbreaking. A feeling of imminent tragedy hangs over it all, but even though you instinctively know this love affair is doomed, when the end does come your breath catches. it's the sort of novel I want to push into everyone's hands and say 'read this!'.

An astounding debut from Louise Kennedy, and I can't wait to see what she follows it with

Shadowlands by Matthew Green

 Under Britain's streets, fields and lakes lies another landscape of forgotten villages and towns; places that for natural, economic or military reasons have been abandoned and left to decay. Maybe too many of the populace died of plague for the village to be viable, maybe the sea came crashing through doors too often, maybe authority in the form of city corporations in need of water or the Ministry of Defence needing training grounds decided their need was greater than that of the inhabitants, but all over the country remains can be found of places that for one reason or another people left; sometimes voluntarily, sometimes being evicted.

In Shadowlands, Matthew Green takes us on a tour of eight of these places from Skara Brae on Orkney, hidden for thousands of years under sand dunes, to Winchelsea on the English Channel, where not one, but two, towns have fallen foul of coastal conditions - the first washed away by violent storms, the second decaying slowly as its harbour silted and traders left.

On the way, he takes the reader to Wharram Percy, left a ghost town after the Black Death and a subsequent change in farming practices, 

Trellech on the Welsh Marches near Chepstow - once a bustling place feeding the English settlers need for iron armaments and accoutrements of war

Dunwich where a Medieval city on the Suffolk cliffs has gradually crumbled into the sea.

St Kilda which had to be abandoned by its inhabitants when its population dropped to unsustainable levels as young people sought a life beyond their inhospitable, isolated island home.

The lost villages of Norfolk taken over during WW2 for military training, and never given back.

And, the most poignant perhaps because it's still remembered by people who grew up there, the valley of Capel Celyn in North Wales, lost to Liverpool's growing need for water.

Part history book, part travelogue, this is both an engaging and informative read, bringing these locations back to life, and placing their growth and decline within a wider context of social change around them. Green also digresses into how previous visitors/generations have responded to these places - from touristy explorers of the Enlightenment looking for noble savages on the islands of St Kilda, to the romantic poets mourning the passing of Dunwich or Winchelsea.

I've always had a curiosity about the past, and forgotten places such as this have a mysterious pull about them - trying to imagine the lives of the people who lived and worked there, their sadness (or perhaps delight) at leaving - more so than the ruins you might find lurking under a shopping mall, so this books was definitely MY kind of thing, and I'd greatly recommend it to anyone with even a mild curiosity about the past.

Cunning Women by Elizabeth Lee

Following from Francesca May's Wild And Wicked Things, we have another story about witchcraft, but of a rather different sort. Wild and Wicked Things is set in an alternative early twentieth century, and its witchcraft is of its time - very glamorous and full of temptation. Cunning Women is set three centuries earlier, when witchcraft was very much believed in, something to be feared and persecuted, and it's far more down to earth in setting and story.

Sarah Haworth and her family have had to leave their home after the death of her father. They now live in an abandoned house outside the village, and scrape together a living selling potions and cures, which has earned them a reputation as 'cunning women' or witches. Sarah's mother is inclined to encourage this label as she feels it gives them protection as the villagers live in fear of the illness and pain witches might cause; Sarah would just rather live a normal life, and is delighted when Daniel, the local farmer's son, becomes attracted to her, and gives her a job at the farm. 

Then, following a series of strange deaths, a new magistrate arrives, and his eye turns towards the 'cunning women'. Public opinion has turned against the Haworth family, with people seeking to settle old wrongs and grudges. Can Sarah manage to protect her family, and save her relationship with Daniel? In a world set against anyone practising witchcraft, where too many innocent women have already died for the offence, it seems unlikely.

In many ways, this is a familiar story - a historical tale of witchcraft, of seventeenth century persecution of anyone suspected of it, of the personal grudges leading to false accusations and deaths - and, although good enough, didn't enthrall me.