The Crocodile Curse by Saviour Pirotta

 illustrated by Jo Lindley

Brothers Renni and Mahu, aided by their friend Princess Balaal  are off on adventures again. Renni has been working with his uncle decorating the interior of a tomb but the Pharaoh has decided alterations need to be made to the entranceway, so for a while Renni has nothing to do. Meanwhile floodwater has covered the land where Mahu grows his family's food. When it recedes, fertile black soil will be left for crops to flourish in, but for now Mahu has time on his hands. Balaal suggests they go on an a trip to Shedet, the city of Crocodiles, where the most sacred of the temple's crocodiles has died and is to be mummified.  

A fun journey soon turns more dangerous when among other visitors the friends spot Paser, Pharaoh's evil vizier. He's bound to be up to no good, but the three are determined to stop him, helped by a very unusual ibis.

This second book in the Nile Adventures series, following on from The Heart Scarab, reintroduces us to Ancient Egypt, and to the two brothers, Renni and Malu, and their friend Balaal. Since their father died, Malu, as the eldest, has to provide for his family, growing crops and fishing. Renni is quieter and more artistic and works as an apprentice to his uncle, helping with the decoration of the Pharaoh's tomb. In her own country, Balaal is a princess but she's come to the Black Land, Egypt, to discover more about its people and way of life. 

The Crocodile Curse is a book to entertain and educate.  It takes the three friends to Shedet and its temples dedicated to Sobek, the crocodile-headed god, and while young readers will find themselves caught up in their adventures, the background is full of informative facts about the culture and life of Ancient Egypt. It's a perfect tie-in to school KS2 history projects, helping to bring the past to life. Jo Lindley's black and white illustrations are full of slithery crocodiles, magnificent temples, and of course the three friends helping young readers to picture the scenes. 

Ithaca by Claire North

 Most of us are aware of the story of Odysseus, king of Ithaca, of the long years spent away from home - first in the siege at Troy, then at the mercy of gods and monsters as he tried to make his way home - but here is the story of the wife, and island, he left behind. 

Hardly more more than a girl when Odysseus left, Penelope has unobtrusively kept their island kingdom going. With all the able-bodied men following their king to war, farming, fishing, and trading have fallen to the women. Life has been quiet, but they survived. 

Now, with the majority of Greek warriors returned from Troy, Penelope faces new problems, finding herself besieged by self-proclaimed heroes determined to win her hand, and kingdom, while eating and drinking their way through her stores. At first convivial, their mood is turning nasty. What can Penelope do to keep the peace? One day, she hopes, Odysseus will return, but until then, on an island of women, old men, and inexperienced youths, who can defend her? 

There seems to be a re-awakened interest in Greek myths at the moment, with books from authors as varied as Natalie Haynes and Stephen Fry, but Ithaca I feel is the best I've read from the women's point of view. Told from the omniscient point of view of gossipy, sarcastic goddess, Hera, wife of Zeus, this is retelling with a feminist feel. How the left-at-home women actually coped while their men were away is something we can't know, but here Claire North offers an alternative to the meek-mannered version of Penelope of myth. Dealing with an unruly mob of suitors, the threat of pirates along Ithaca's coast, and the unexpected presence of a disgraced queen, Penelope proves herself to be as sly and cunning as Odysseus himself..

It's a change of mood for Claire North, whose previous novels have been more fantastical in nature, but a book I would definitely recommend.

The Wolf's Song by Saviour Pirotta

illustrated by Davide Ortu

Wolf, the Neolithic boy from the Orkney islands, has completed his journey to regain his precious amulet. Now it seems the only thing left to do is return to his home in the far north, and fulfill his dreams of becoming a shaman to help his people. But things aren't that simple. Being reunited with the amulet has brought strange dream-like visions of underwater creatures dying and being reborn, and when he is tempted to return to the temple of the Sleeping Goddess he unleashes her fury. Can he set things to right?

Fourth and last of this series set in prehistoric Britain and Europe, The Wolf's Song brings this story to a dramatic close. Wolf starts out from his home in Orkney as a young boy with aspirations to become a shaman, but with little knowledge of human nature or the wider world outside his island. On his journey, Wolf has traveled many, many miles, seen wondrous sights, and overcome numerous obstacles and challenges. Now he has at last gained the insight he needs to truly be a help to his people, but they are in physical danger. 

This has been a wonderful series, mixing nail-biting adventure with historic fact, and exploring problems and situations that are as relatable to today's readers as to the late Neolithic characters. It's a perfect read for the 7+ age group, whether they're learning about this period in school or not.

As with the previous books, the characters and atmosphere are captured by Davide Ortu's black and white illustrations. 

The previous books are - 

The Stolen Spear

The Whispering Stones

The Mysterious Island

 

Long Shadow by Olivia Atwater

A series of mysterious deaths is shocking Regency London. Eligible young ladies are dying in their sleep, and in the morning the western window is found open - leading some to speculate that faeries, particularly the cruel kind called sluagh, are responsible. 

Elias Wilder, Lord Sorcier of England, certainly believes this to be the case, but while he is willing to do battle with Lord Longshadow, the most important and powerful of the sluagh, he believes that his eighteen year old ward, Abigail, should not, and would, in fact, be safer in the faerie realm. 

Abigail does not agree, and sets off on her own investigation into the latest death - that of Miss Lucy Kendall - and encounters a strange young woman, dressed as a laundress, who is also searching for Lucy, or at least her ghost.

This is the second of Olivia Atwater's Regency Faerie Tales that I've read, and is again a delightful, whimsical mix of historical (lesbian) romance and faerie magic, with the extra twist of a murder mystery thrown in too. The main character, Abigail, is one of the Workhouse children rescued in Half a Soul, and here we find her a few years older, exploring her magical powers, and discovering love in a way that she feels is very unconventional, but which Mercy assures her has existed forever. 

Magic abounds, as you would expect in a story set partially in Faeryland. There are magical dances in Kensington Gardens, and ballgowns spun out of midnight, but just as Half A Soul had its darker side with explorations of the workhouse system and the apathy of most people towards its conditions, so too does Longshadow, with its look at our attitude towards death. There's the inevitable grief which turns even Lucy's stuck-up mother into someone deserving compassion, but alos Abigail and Mercy think differently about death itself. One maintaining that we should battle against it as long as possible; the other believing that there's a point as which enough is enough, and we should retire from life gracefully. It seems a slightly weird topic to encounter in what is to all intents a 'lightweight' story, but it gives depth and a contrast to the magical world of faery.

This Beating Heart by Laura Barnett

At forty-three, Christina finds herself living alone, her marriage and dreams of raising a family broken down after years of unsuccessful IVF and two miscarriages. Her ex-husband has started a new life in San Francisco, while Christina remains in their old London flat, haunted by 'what might have been', and hoping that Ed will consent to her using their remaining frozen embryo for one last-ditch attempt at motherhood. 

It's time really for her to move on, and, with a little push here, and a new acquaintance there, maybe Christina can find a new future.

The author herself underwent IVF treatment, and despite, or because of, it being success it led her to think the unthinkable - what if it all goes wrong?  How do you pull yourself up and start again after such a blow? 

I've loved this author's previous novels - Versions of Us and Greatest Hits - so was very enthusiastic to read this, but somehow it just didn't hit the spot in the same way. The first half or so, while Christina struggles with the past, was immensely sad, but Barnett really got inside her character, brought her alive on the page as someone to empathise with. Yet even while things are going so badly, it's easy to predict how her future will pan out. It's not the way Christina is hoping for, but the signs are there, and when she's ready to let go of the past, things fall into place just a little too conveniently. As a light rom-com read, it's great but it wasn't what I'd expected.

Although Christina's distressing rounds of  IVF are apparent from the blurb, I feel there maybe should be a trigger warning with this book. I found it unbearably sad at times, and I can't help but wonder how it would be for anyone undergoing treatment, or, worse still, for someone whose treatment failed.
 

The Queen of Dirt Island by Donal Ryan

In a small bungalow on the outskirts of a village in Co. Tipperary live three generations of Aylward women - Eileen, her mother-in-law Mary, and daughter Saoirse. It isn't a peaceful household, yet, despite the arguments and fallings-out, it's a place filled with love; a home that's far more than bricks and mortar, but a haven, a place of belonging and nurture. 

It'll come as no surprise to readers of this blog that I'm an ardent admirer of Donal Ryan's writing. I've been hooked since I first read The Thing About December, and he's one of the few authors whose books I can pick up knowing I'll be enthralled and moved. This new story is no exception.  Two pages in there's a body blow of a shock and such is Ryan's writing that the reader already feels for this character, has shared their hopes and dreams, and mourns their loss - and like the women left behind by this tragic death, we readers too have to pull ourselves up and start over again.

This unexpected start sets the tone for the book. Revolving around these three generations of women, The Queen of Dirt Island is a story of resilience despite what life throws at you, about love and family ties, told with compassion and understanding. Their lives aren't easy - by any standards they seem to attract more than their fair share of tragedy, disappointment, loss, and straight forward bad luck - but together they pull through, and we're left with an impression that the future is bright.

It's set in the same general location as most of Ryan's work (an unnamed village somewhere near to Nenagh, Tipperary), and characters from other novels put in an appearance - most noticeably from Strange Flowers, to which it feels like a companion piece, but I'm fairly sure there are others too. I love this way of setting a particular story against a backdrop where other tales are unfolding; the postman, policeman, schoolgirl, the passers-by on the street, as in real life they all have lives of their own (and if we haven't been told about them yet, maybe we will be soon).

I also particularly enjoyed what seemed like a sly criticism of  male authors or teachers of writing courses - the way Saoirse's story is taken by someone claiming to know better than her, and twisted into something more dramatic, full of violence and extreme emotions, but essentially untrue. I'd love to know if Donal Ryan had someone in mind when he wrote this. 

A book that takes its characters through devastation and anger but is ultimately filled with the redemptive power of love.

The Wilderness Cure by Mo Wilde

At the end of November 2020, Mo Wilde decided to embark on a year of eating wild. She's led foraging courses for many years, and frequently encountered the query 'but could you actually live on only foraged food?' - here was a chance to prove it. So on Black Friday when the rest of the world seemed overwhelmed by buying frenzy, she resolved to stop - or at least to stop buying food. In The Wilderness Cure  Wilde takes us on an incredible year of only living on what she gather - nuts, shoots, leaves, mushrooms (so many mushrooms!) and occasional gifts of a culled deer or surplus salmon; all foods which would have been familiar to our hunter-gatherer ancestors. 

I grew up in the country, so foraging is always something I've done a little of. As a child I went out to gather blackberries and elderberries in autumn, as an adult I've collected elderflowers in spring, sloes, crab apples, and the occasional chestnut in autumn - but the important difference is that to me they're additions to what I grow or buy. I knew that it was feasible to harvest more from wild sources - mushrooms being the obvious thing but I never had any one to teach me their secrets when young, and fresh spring leaves of hawthorn or beech which I'd rather looked on as extraordinary things for when harvests had failed. This book came as a revelation of the many, many things which can be gathered from the wild; the roots and shoots, seeds and flowers, which can be used as part of our daily food.

This book is more than a foraging diary. It digresses naturally into the author's philosophy, her belief in the Gaia world-system and how this challenge re-affirmed her connection with the Earth, into the disconnection between humans and the natural world, into the bodily changes brought on by this unusual diet, and even into archaeological research which provides historical context for 'foraging' (or 'collecting dinner' as I assume our pre-historic ancestors considered it). 

It's a fascinating read, even if you've only the slightest interest in foraging but in a world based round consumption and consumerism, doing anything for yourself is an act of rebellion - and nothing more so than deciding to live on only the food you can gather for free.