Mark Reece's Blog

Review- 'Silk'

Re-read this book, re-posted my original review:

Silk by Alessandro Baricco

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


This is a stylish and mesmerizing book. Written in a series of very short chapters, many less than a page long, it tells the story of Herve Joncour, who travels to Japan to buy silkworms to supply mills in a French town. The book is very short- probably less than novella length, and the chapters form what are essentially a set of interconnected prose poems. The tone is very reserved, and there is more subtext than text. For example, the second chapters ends with these three sentences:

Lavilledieu was the name of the town inhabited by Herve Joncour.
Helene was that of his wife.
They had no children.

It is thus made apparent that there is a distance, or even a quiet sadness, in the relationship between Joncour and his wife. The prose sometimes reminded me of haiku, in the way that consecutive sentences change focus to create implicit metaphors or similes.

Joncour's reserved nature is beautifully illustrated by the hazy nature of the writing, which is always covered by a delicate veil. At one point, Joncour is described in this way:

It will have been noted that such people observe their destiny much as most people tend to observe a rainy day.

When traveling to Japan, Joncour meets an important man in a village, with whom he establishes a partnership based on the sale of silkworm eggs. Joncour glances the man's concubine, and although they do not speak, they form a relationship of sorts that provides the narrative focus of the story.

The centrepiece of the book is a love letter between the two that is astonishing in tone and provenance. To say more would be to give too much away.

The book could easily be read in one sitting, and many times in a lifetime.



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Review- 'Maskerade'.

Maskerade by Terry Pratchett

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I liked the humour in this book more than in other novels of the Discworld series, as it relied more on the characterisation and plot rather than regular puns, which can sometimes be a weakness in Pratchett's writing. There were numerous memorable scenes, including one in which the finances of artistic institutions are parodied. The wealthy new owner of an opera house is looking through its accounts to establish how he will be able to make a return on his investment, only to find numerous slips of paper where anonymous people are borrowing money.

The protagonists were mostly interesting, although the power of the witches stymied the plot on occasions, as their ability to force anyone to do what they want tended to reduce tension. The plot points mostly worked well, although I found the ending confusing, and not completely set up earlier in the story.

Having read many of Pratchett's books, I've noticed a curious tendency for there to be an authorial voice that insists that character should be 'what they are', which often feels mysterious, given that 'what they are' seems to relate to some metaphysical essence rather than anything they choose. This is also evident in this book, as Agnes, who leaves a life as a witch to join the opera, only to be inevitably drawn back into her old life.

Despite featuring recurring characters and broad plotlines, this novel can be enjoyed as a standalone work.



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Review- Hidden ballet at the Birmingham Hippodrome

I recently saw 'Hidden' performed by the Motionhouse dance company at the Birmingham Hippodrome. It was a modern ballet built around a stage prop, the base of which was a series of bars.

During the first act, the prop was covered with video footage that synchronized with the dancer's movements. The sequences depicted people seemingly isolated from the crowds in the video. For example, one scene showed a couple either arguing or otherwise separate from others in a building.

The second act highlighted a group who had apparently broken free of the group to dance together. However, there was still a sense of danger at times, such as when two of the performers were trapped in tubes that they had to struggle to free themselves from.

The parts of the performance that involve the dancers timing their movements to the backdrops were very impressive, demonstrating a great deal of skill. Furthermore, the evolving use of the set was innovative. At one point, the prop was stripped back to bars, which the actors used as if they were performing athletics.

Conversely, I thought that the narrative of the dancer was muddled in places. I wondered whether it would have been better to have an overtly dystopian setting; as it was, the tone sometimes felt trite, lacking a strong central narrative. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the performance overall and would certainly see the group again.

Review- 'Maurice'.

Maurice by E.M. Forster

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I found this book very different from Forster's other works, not only in its subject matter but also in its narrower, phycological focus. The eponymous protagonist is an interesting subject, often described as mediocre, and is certainly not idealized (he is regularly cruel to his mother and sisters). However, as time goes on, he becomes increasingly willing to ignore social convention to live a more authentic life.

The plot concerns Maurice's relationships with two men, and the overwhelming importance they have, given that he will face ruin if his sexuality is revealed. His first partner, Clive, is a snobbish aesthete who insists that they remain celibate in a pastiche of how he imagines Athenian men would have lived. The two are in some ways happy but Clive's intellectual pretensions impose tensions on the relationship that make it fragile.

Later in the book, there is an odd sequence in which Clive visits Greece and has a revelation in which he decides he is not gay after all. He starts to see women in sexual terms, and when returning to England, briefly thinks about marrying Maurice's sister. Those passages seem to be written as if they should be taken seriously, although I found them utterly absurd. They make more sense if interpreted to mean that Clive has deluded himself, although that appears contrary to how they are written. The subsequent exchanges between Maurice and Clive are similarly strained. Clive is willing to retain their friendship after becoming engaged (to a woman); despite his initial upset, Maurice accepts the situation, perhaps indicating that he questions the value of the relationship in retrospect, or perhaps that he understands that he cannot be seen to be publicly angry without risking exposure.

Maurice's second relationship is more vital and seems a lot more like a real relationship. To maintain it, Maurice decides to make dramatic changes to his life, giving the story a happy ending, although one not achieved without cost. Overall, the story is often effectively told, and demonstrates how central sexuality becomes when proscribed. The tone was dreamy but unsentimental, which well accorded with the theme, making it a worthy, although curious addition to Forster's work.



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Review- 'After Martha' in the London Review of Books

London Review of Books by London Review of Books

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


This review is for the 'After Martha' article that appeared in the 25 September 2025 issue. The article details the aftermath of the death of Martha Mills following a bike accident, and the efforts of her parents to understand the medical errors that significantly contributed to what had happened.

It was an outstanding essay that demonstrated exceptional emotional restraint and even handedness given the circumstances, in addition to employing very carefully reasoned analysis. Sadly, the parents had to struggle for many years to cut through bureaucratic investigative processes that often served to obscure rather than illuminate events. Although there was never any suggestion of deliberate harm, there was often a grotesque mismatch between the obvious sorrow of the parents on the one hand, and the insistence of many of the doctors and administrators to view what had happened in arid organizational terminology, often speaking of the need (for example) for doctors to 'reflect' on what had happened.

There was also an interesting discussion of the way that the (not inherently unreasonable) desire to avoid 'blame culture' can be used to hide accountability for medical staff's actions. I was struck by the amount of times throughout the article where the author related how medical notes relevant to an investigation had 'gone missing', and how often doctors changed their accounts without professional consequences.

The author also gave a fascinating glimpse into medical culture, in which there exist hierarchies that would be mysterious to outsiders. For example, he described how liver specialists in the hospital where Martha died were considered an elite due to both their reputations and their ability to generate research funding. Apparently, in the past senior doctors sat in a different part of the canteen. These cultural practices, although comic, have the potential to cause patients serious harm.

Happily, some small good came out of Martha's death, in that the parent's campaigning led to 'Martha's law', which grants patients the right to request a second opinion. It is sad although perhaps inevitable that in large, complex institutions like the NHS, only tragedies will be sufficient to generate reform.



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Review- 'The temple of the golden pavilion'.

The Temple of the Golden Pavilion by Yukio Mishima

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I liked this novel a little less than Mishima's other major works, as I thought the pacing was too slow at points, although it was often sumptuously beautiful and an interesting character study of a man unable to find a place in the world.

The protagonist, Mizoguchi, becomes an acolyte at a Buddhist temple (of the title) after his father's death, although he is never reconciled his path in life. Although he is fascinated by the temple's beauty from a young age, Mizoguchi does not seem to enjoy his ascetic lifestyle although it is unclear what he does want to do, if anything. The novel begins at the end of the second world war, and it is clear that Mizoguchi is unfit for military service, both because of his disability (he often stutters heavily), and his resentful and cowardly nature. This is demonstrated with striking symbolism during an incident during his childhood when he defaces the sword of a young soldier.

The life of an acolyte is depicted as requiring deliberative, highly formal behaviour, regularly requiring the careful interpretation of symbols, both in the texts the students study, and the behaviour of those around them. At points in the novel, Mizoguchi tries to get expelled from the temple, but he never considers asking the superior for permission or simply taking action. Living in this symbolic world makes him neurotic and prevents him from taking decisive action (again, in contrast to the soldier he met during his childhood). These scenes are depicted in often startlingly beautiful prose, reflecting the elegiac tone.

Mizoguchi's friendships display a similar dynamic. He values Tsurukawa, a fellow acolyte, for his ability to interpret his actions in the most favourable light. By contrast, he values Kashiwagi, who he meets at university, for his ability to cynically manipulate women to have sex with him out of sympathy for his club feet. These fascinating interactions highlight the inability of a highly formalized sect to acknowledge personal or social problems, let alone do anything about them. As it often the case in Mishima's fiction, these tendences can only be resolved by an act of symbolic violence.

It isn't obvious whether the author intends disability to be explicitly associated with 'degeneracy', such as sneaky and sly behaviour. Mizoguchi and Kashiwagi are often depicted in this way, although the author could also be implying that their behaviour resulted from the supposed loss of values associated with Japan's defeat in the second world war, of which there are several oblique references, such as a (negative) reference to signs appearing in English.

Overall, a highly aesthetic and beautiful novel, concealing scenes of heavily suppressed tension, entirely typical of Mishima's style.



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Review- 'Ghosts of Saltmarsh'.

Ghosts of Saltmarsh by Wizards of the Coast

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


I think that the adventures and world building background in this compilation were generally interesting and could form either a campaign, or a series of shorter adventures that could be slotted into other stories. However, they were were limited by the generic nature of some of protagonists, and also that many of the areas in the maps with either empty or contained little of interest, meaning that a DM would have to do considerable work to keep the game engaging.

On the other hand, 'The Styes' was a much more interesting murder mystery story, which I look forward to playing at some point, containing a number of puzzles and monsters that would likely produce good sessions.



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Review- Reaper man

Reaper Man by Terry Pratchett

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


I enjoyed this novel overall, although I thought that several of the plot points didn't cohere. The idea of 'personified death doesn't want to do its job anymore' has been done elsewhere (most notably in Saramago's Death with interruptions), although curiously, the amount of scenes involving Death seemed small given its centrality to the plot. Pratchett seemed to want to focus on the more lighthearted sequences.

The novel concerns the consequences that result when people are unable to die, including a magical build-up of energy personified by Windle Poons, a wizard whose existence seems more vital after he died.

The humour often felt forced, with the author too heavily reliant on puns and whimsy, when the setup itself provided ample opportunity for comedy. Moreover, the plot too often relied on exposition after long sequences with little relevance to the rest of the story. I enjoyed, and often looked forward to, the scenes involving Death, as that character was more vividly portrayed and interesting than the other characters.

Pratchett had a curious tendency to explain character's actions by referring to their inherent nature; wizards and bogeymen are said to act as they do because they are wizards and bogeymen. I sometimes wondered whether anything more should be read into this other than a pun, which is why I would have liked the story to be more Death focused. As it was, the story was sometimes enjoyable, although felt somewhat shallow.



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Review- A passage to India

A Passage to India by E.M. Forster

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I didn't think this novel was as good as other books I've read by Forster, although it was still highly enjoyable. It is set amongst an Anglo-Indian community at the start of the twentieth century, who, at the start of the book, wish to learn about the 'real India'. As such, several of the British characters are interested in visiting religious or culturally important places. This culminates in a trip to the Murabar caves, organized by Aziz, a Muslim doctor. However, when one of the participants, Adela, accused Aziz of assaulting her, Aziz is put on trial, sparking racial tensions that strain or break the relationships between the British and Indian characters.

As a novel, I didn't think the different sections fully cohered. The start of the novel played out like a social comedy of manners that went on a little too long. The middle of the novel, concerning Aziz's trial, was often fast paced and engagingly written. Although not an action packed book, a lot of incidents carried dramatic force, such as when Fielding, a British official, refuses to believe that his friend Aziz is guilty and is thrown out of his club as a consequence. The story after the trial seemed somewhat superfluous, concentrating on Aziz's move to a Hindu dominated state, which Fielding visits after returning to India.

Although Forster was in some sense of critic of colonialism, and certainly of the racism of colonial officials, and displays an awareness of India's diversity, this is not an anti-colonial book. The Indian characters often feel underdeveloped and flat in comparison to the richness with which the British characters are described. Furthermore, the book is limited by its liberal perspective; the conflicts in the book cannot be resolved satisfactorily because the natives are always portrayed as lacking agency. At the trial, they chant mindlessly; Aziz can only be acquitted by the actions of the good British characters. As such, there is always a air of unreality over the relationships, which is accelerated by an increasingly focus on mysticism in the final section of the book.

These factors meant that the elegance of the writing did not shine quite as brightly as in Forster's novels, although it was apparent often enough for the book to be highly engaging.



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Review- 'Howards End'

Howards End by E.M. Forster

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


A really enjoyed this. Forster writes some great dialogue, perfectly capturing the speech of people who regularly speak nonsense in an authoritative tone. In that way, it captures the confidence of the English middle classes in Edwardian Britain.

The novel is in many ways reminiscent of Austen; the social codes restraining the characters are a little more liberal than is seen in an Austen novel but are nevertheless often repressive; a pregnant unmarried woman being enough to cause a scandal. However, the central tension of the book concerns social class. The Schlegel sisters seem to have a minor aristocratic background or at least outlook, with a regular income that means they don't have to work and artistic/political interests that they pursue in a half-hearted and somewhat louche fashion. By contrast, the Wilcox family are distinctly bourgeoise, having many business interests and all round poor taste, as evidenced (for example) by their obsession with cars. A childhood indiscretion ties the fates of the two families ever more closely together while constantly highlighting their differences.

The other family important to the plot are the Basts, who are poorer and feature less frequently, despite their centrality to some of the events. The Basts are less well defined, often little more than caricatures, with the author patronizing them in a similar way that the Schlegels do.

The author seems interested in exploring the idea about how the social classes, as represented by the three families, might live in harmony but has little idea of how this could be conceived, constrained as the novel is by a complacent liberalism that can conceive of political conflict only through the trivialities of the Schlegel’s ‘debates’, which must inevitably give way before the brutal although practical logic of the Wilcoxes. I think this is why the Basts are given so little agency; they cannot be allowed to shape their own fate.

That being said, the characters and conflicts are beautifully drawn, and the book is filled with delightful passages. There is a real sense of excitement late on when Helen Schlegel (the younger sister) unveils a secret that causes the denouement of the book, despite the revelation being mundane to modern readers in its inherent significance. The author regularly draws on pastoral descriptions of England as a gentle lament to the kind of progress being pushed by the Wilcoxes. Given that the Wilcox’s social views are prevalent, the authorial worries about them are often given in mystical terms, in descriptions that often approach magical realism. Forster is an extremely elegant and witty writer who makes the three families the centre of a world that holds a great deal of magic, despite the powerfully described expanding road network that stinks of petrol.

A novel very much of its time but also with hints of eternity; a truly lovely book.



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