Callum McLaughlin's Blog, page 26

October Wrap Up

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The books I read in October

Time for another wrap up! I finished 11 books throughout October, bringing my total for the year so far up to 105. This exceeds my 100 book target, so that’s nice. Here are some brief thoughts on each of the books I picked up this month (many of which had a spooky or gothic tone, per the season). I’ve linked to my full reviews if you’d like to know more about any of the books mentioned.

The Wall by John Lanchester

[ ] Solid and very readable, this dystopian book’s greatest flaw for me was simply how overly topical it was. By pitching its themes and narrative benchmarks so firmly in the present day (rising seas, closed borders, anti-immigration rhetoric, et al.), it fails to offer a new perspective on well worn themes. I can’t deny that I remained invested throughout, however, with interesting use of pacing and effective commentary on inter-generational tensions with regards to climate change and politics.

The Mist by Stephen King

[ ] Despite this novella’s brevity in comparison to most of King’s other best-known works, he manages to create a tangible tension. As with my favourite works in this genre, the threat from fellow humans proves as deadly as that from the strange creatures that lurk within the eponymous mist. Leaving much of the horror to our imagination, it’s a taut, swift, and evocative read.

The Deathless Girls by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

[ ] Exploring the origins of the Brides of Dracula, this book pays heavy homage to the gothic genre. It Looks at the concepts of fear and othering, and I was pleased with the way the author handled the character of Dracula himself. Though it dipped into melodrama at times, it was a consistently gripping and atmospheric read.

Dark Warm Heart by Rich Larson

[ ] Decent tension and intrigue build towards an ending that is unsettling in its implications, if a little too understated to fully drive home the horror. There is, however, a good emphasis on the characters for such a brief tale, and a couple of moments that stand out visually.

Breaking and Mending by Joanna Cannon

[ ] This anecdotal memoir explores Cannon’s time as a junior doctor. Her style is gentle and approachable, but she never shies away from how devastating life as a doctor (and a patient) can be. The book’s purpose is to humanize the staff of the NHS, to encourage open dialogue about the burnout that comes with the job, and to highlight the importance of implementing better support systems for those that give so much in exchange for so little.

Things We Say in the Dark by Kirsty Logan

[ ] Some of the striking imagery throughout this collection of feminist horror stories is sure to linger in the mind for quite some time. Exploring domestic, contemporary fears by spinning them into hypnotically claustrophobic fever dreams, there are a few absolute gems in here, but many of the 20 stories began to blur together, meaning it’s a collection I’ll remember more for its overall tone than I will for its specific plots and characters.

You Should Have Left by Daniel Kehlmann

[ ] This unsettling and surprisingly provocative little tale takes many conventions of the haunted house narrative, throws in some genuinely chilling moments, and elevates it all by adding some clever though subtle allegory about artistic integrity and the pressures of parenthood.

The Greatcoat by Helen Dunmore

[ ] Though this is billed as a ghost story, it would be better described as a paranormal romance that explores the concept of the past haunting people and places. Though there was little directly wrong with the book, I found it all very inoffensive, and the shortfall between expectation and reality left me feeling largely apathetic.

Glass, Snow, Apples by Neil Gaiman & Colleen Doran

[ ] This graphic novel reimagines the story of Snow White, by posing the following questions: What if everything Snow White told us about the ‘wicked queen’ was a lie? What if she was the evil one all along, and the queen was only ever trying to rid the world of a terrible evil? I loved the balance of darkness and poignancy in this one, and Doran’s gorgeous, ornate artwork really enhanced its impact.

Wilder Girls by Rory Power

[ ] This feminist, queer, sci-fi, horror debut follows the students of an all-girls school that is quarantined following the breakout of a strange disease that causes painful mutations. The imagery throughout is visceral and truly haunting. At once an exhilarating story of survival and a commentary on both the perils of girlhood and the impending danger of climate change, this was just the read I was in the mood for.

Anya’s Ghost by Vera Brosgol

[ ] This graphic novel made for a great little reread during the spooky season. The setup requires a suspension of disbelief, but I liked Brosgol’s balance of fun and creepiness. I also appreciated the inclusion of wider themes surrounding self-acceptance, particularly concerning body image and the immigrant experience.

There we have it! My favourites this month were Wilder Girls and Glass, Snow, Apples. What was your favourite read in October?

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Book to Film | The Mist

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The Mist’s book cover (left) and film poster (right).

I saw the 2007 film version of Stephen King’s The Mist years ago, and having finally picked up the original novella this month, I’m pleased to say it’s an adaptation that remains largely faithful to the source material, whilst attempting to enhance the themes and ideas that King laid out. For those unfamiliar with either version, the story follows a group of survivors trapped inside a supermarket when a strange mist hiding deadly creatures descends upon their town.

Written and directed by Frank Darabont, the film hits all the same narrative benchmarks as the book, but it fleshes out a few sequences and characters to accommodate the two-hour runtime. In terms of the few plot changes there are, two stand out in particular, and I’m pleased to say it’s for all the right reasons. One of my few complaints about the novella was an entirely unnecessary sex scene that felt both out of place and out of character. Mercifully, the film omits it. The biggest change, however, is undoubtedly the ending. Whilst King’s version is deliberately ambiguous, with a small gesture of hope, Darabont’s take is utterly devastating; one of the most daring final sequences I’ve seen in a horror film.

There are some slightly hammy moments from the ensemble cast, it must be said. The positive highlights are easily Marcia Gay Harden as Mrs Carmody, a religious fanatic who believes the mist is a punishment sent from God, and Melissa McBride, whose tiny role is easily one of the most pivotal and memorable. In fairness to the wider cast, this was clearly a horror film where they had little to no practical creature effects to help fuel their performances, and some clunky dialogue didn’t help them either. Made in the mid-2000s, when many directors favoured highly imperfect CGI over practical effects, the visuals have sadly not aged well (though I’m told the director’s cut is presented in black and white, which is a little more flattering).

Most of all, I was very pleased that the monsters continued to play second fiddle to the threat from fellow humans. The point of King’s novella was to show how extremism can rise when society is placed under enormous pressure, and the lengths (both selfish and selfless) that people will go to in the name of survival and mercy. Darabont takes these notions and runs with them to much success.

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Neil Gaiman & Vera Brosgol | Graphic Novel Mini Reviews

Glass, Snow, Apples by Neil Gaiman & Colleen Doran

Published by Headline, 2019

My rating:

[image error]This fantastically dark spin on a classic tale poses the following questions: What if Snow White was a liar? What if everything we’ve been led to believe about the so called ‘wicked Queen’ was a means of covering up her own evil? What if her stepmother was only ever trying to protect people from an unspeakable horror?

In this respect, Gaiman pitches his retelling perfectly, offering an entirely fresh take on a well-worn story, whilst never contradicting any major details from the original. It’s a clever way of exploring the idea that a story is all about perspective.

Doran’s artwork is gorgeous, and it’s this that elevates the book to five-star territory. Striking imagery, sumptuous use of colour, and incredible attention to detail bring the world to life in such an evocative and transporting way. The story is narrated in the first person from the Queen’s point-of-view, and though ornate, it has a conversational sense of continuous momentum. The free-flowing structure successfully reflects this constant narrative drive, whilst forcing the eye to explore the pages in their entirety, soaking up every ounce of macabre beauty.

Creepy and poignant in equal measure, I would love to see this duo team up again.

You can pick up a copy of Snow, Glass, Apples from Book Depository by clicking here.

Anya’s Ghost by Vera Brosgol

Published by First Second, 2011

My rating:

[image error]Self-conscious teenager Anya is desperate to fit in. When she falls down an abandoned well (I kid you not), she unwittingly befriends the ghost that has been stuck in its depths for a century. At first, the ghost seems to offer the perfect solutions to all of Anya’s problems, but as its motives are revealed, its intentions become more sinister. Even putting the supernatural element aside, the whole setup of this story is a little silly, so you definitely have to suspend your disbelief somewhat. That said, it’s a fun read that becomes pleasingly creepy towards the end.

The art style is cute, and I like the purple wash throughout the limited colour palette. The story itself is straight-forward, but there are some well-handled themes about self-acceptance, particularly concerning body image and the experiences of first-generation immigrants, with Anya learning to embrace her Russian heritage rather than try to hide it. A quick, enjoyable re-read that was well suited to the season.

You can pick up a copy of Anya’s Ghost from Book Depository by clicking here.

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Wilder Girls by Rory Power | Book Review

Wilder Girls by Rory Power

Published by Delacorte Press, 2019

My rating:

[image error]Rory Power’s feminist, queer, sci-fi, horror debut was exactly what I needed. Set on an island off the coast of Maine, Wilder Girls follows the students of an all-girls school which has been put under strict quarantine following the outbreak of a strange new disease. Causing mutations within the girls’ bodies – as well as the plants and animals that inhabit the woodland beyond the school grounds – they have been told by officials to stay put and stay alive while scientists on the mainland work on a potential cure.

The imagery throughout this book is truly haunting. The visceral pain of bones erupting from girls’ spines, skin turning to scales, eyes fusing shut, and something squirming within their flesh is some of the best body horror I’ve encountered. Fear about what’s happening to them is mirrored in their struggles to simply survive day-to-day: tensions grow over dwindling food supplies, and the threat from dangerously altered animals on the island is all too real.

Power’s prose is ideally suited to the story she’s telling. The staccato, pacy nature propels the narrative forward, making this a fantastic page-turner, while the language itself brings some much-needed beauty to balance out the revulsion of their situation. This blend of awe-inspiring wonder and chilling metamorphosis called to mind the striking aesthetic of Annihilation. Having enjoyed the book and adored the film, this was another big plus for me.

As with my favourite dystopian reads, this book works on multiple levels. Taken at face value, it’s an exhilarating story of survival, elevated by its look at sisterhood, and its excellent casual queer representation; with relationships that feel believable and earned without ever distracting from the core narrative. Though handled subtly, there are also some deeper themes at play, including a powerful environmental message that serves as a warning against the possible effects of climate change. It also cannot be ignored that those most affected by the so-called Tox are girls within the grips of puberty. The concept of their bodies turning against them in natural yet cruel ways when they hit sexual maturity has some fascinating real-world parallels. The resulting weaponization of their bodies and the fear levied at them from the outside world prove crucial in understanding the full extent of their dilemma.

The critic in me can recognise that this book isn’t perfect. Though it’s not something I reach for often these days – and struggle to connect with when I do – the book has a distinctly YA feel at times. This is not a flaw in and of itself, but it means there are a couple of convenient coincidences and a fairly relentless climax. These qualities are less common in adult fiction, and may prove a little jarring for some. They were never enough to take me out of the story, however. Rory Power has created a thrilling, unsettling, intelligent novel about the perils of girlhood, and the struggle to survive in an unknown future that feels more and more plausible as the story progresses. I can’t wait to see what she writes next.

If you’d like to give Wilder Girls a go, you can pre-order the UK edition from Book Depository by clicking here. If you’ve already read it, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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Joanna Cannon, Helen Dunmore, & Rich Larson | Mini Reviews

Dark Warm Heart by Rich Larson

Published by Tor Books, 2017

My rating:

[image error]Decent tension and intrigue build towards an ending that is unsettling in its implications, if a little too understated to fully drive home the horror. There is, however, a good emphasis on the characters for such a brief tale, and a couple of moments that stand out visually.

You can read Dark Warm Heart for free by clicking here.

Breaking and Mending by Joanna Cannon

Published by Wellcome Collection, 2019

My rating:

[image error]This anecdotal memoir focusses on Cannon’s time spent as a junior doctor, working on both A&E and psychiatric wards. Its primary aim is to humanise the overworked and underappreciated staff who keep the NHS afloat in times of unrest and austerity, and to explore the ethical grey area between maintaining professional protocol and extending the hand of human kindness. From heart-breakingly tender interactions with patients, to moments of gut-punch trauma, she highlights the physical and emotional burnout that comes with the job. By doing so, she shows us why it’s imperative we stop seeing health workers as miraculous, indomitable heroes, and start treating them like the fallible human beings they are, by putting better support systems in place.

Cannon’s writing style is gentle and approachable. Though she doesn’t shy away from how devastating life as a doctor (and a patient) can be, she never loses the spark of hope that things can get better. She argues that transparency and storytelling are our best means of encouraging the kind of open dialogue that will birth positive change. Here, she leads by example.

You can pick up a copy of Breaking and Mending by clicking here.

The Greatcoat by Helen Dunmore

Published by Hammer, 2012

My rating:

[image error]Everything about this book is entirely inoffensive. Plot, characters, writing, themes; there’s nothing wrong with any of them, they just fail to spark any kind of emotional or literary resonance. The biggest problem is mis-marketing. Billed as a ghost story, published by renowned horror publisher Hammer, and described using words like ‘atmospheric’, ‘haunting’, and ‘flesh-creeper’, I expected something suitably chilling. On the contrary, this would have been far more accurately described as a paranormal romance that looks at the concept of the past haunting people and places. A solid idea, just not what I was looking for here. I missed the evocate prose and arresting atmosphere of Dunmore’s A Spell of Winter, and was left feeling wholly apathetic.

You can pick up a copy of The Greatcoat by clicking here.

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You Should Have Left by Daniel Kehlmann | Book Review

You Should Have Left by Daniel Kehlmann (translated from the German by Ross Benjamin)

Published by Pantheon, 2017

My rating:

[image error]This is an unsettling and surprisingly provocative little tale that is perfect for a spooky autumnal evening. We follow a writer and his family as they rent a seemingly idyllic house nestled between two mountains, so that he can finish the screenplay that has been eluding him. Barbed warnings from the locals precede strange nightmares and even stranger goings on within the house. As the building itself appears to shift and transform, the family’s attempts to leave prove fruitless.

There are a few genuinely chilling moments in this that I loved, and these alone make this brief story well worth your time. The writing and translation are both solid, sections of fragmented prose reflecting our narrator’s deteriorating mental state as panic and confusion set in, and the house’s oddities begin to affect his psyche.

Whilst this can absolutely be enjoyed as a fairly standard haunted house narrative, I felt Kehlmann was drawing on genre conventions to explore an interesting extended metaphor that helps set this apart. For much of the story, our narrator laments his struggles to try and pen the sequel to a successful light-hearted movie he considers a sell-out cash grab. The more he lies to himself and his studio colleagues regarding his stalled progress on the script, the more the house extends its grip. Add to this his feelings of inferiority to his university educated wife, and the pressure he feels to meet the constant demands of parenthood. Suddenly, the book can be read as allegory for sacrificing artistic integrity and taking for granted the things we value most, all in the vapid pursuit of success and money.

Whilst the horror elements weren’t entirely original, and I wasn’t always wholly convinced by our narrator’s voice (he felt a little too unphased by his situation, and a tad too quick to accept it at times), I’m glad I picked this up. I would recommend it to those who like their horror subtle, layered, and more than a little uncanny.

You can pick up a copy of You Should Have Left by clicking here. If you’ve already read it, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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Things We Say in the Dark by Kirsty Logan | Book Review

Things We Say in the Dark by Kirsty Logan

Published by Harvill Secker, 2019

My rating:

[image error]Sometimes a book sounds so tailored towards your taste that it could never possibly live up to your sky-high hopes. I fear that was the case for me with Logan’s Things We Say in the Dark, a collection of feminist horror stories that was easily one of my most anticipated releases of the year.

There are definitely lots of things to admire here. Logan’s prose is always readable, but it’s punctuated by moments of linguistic beauty, with vivid and evocative imagery peppered throughout. Some of these disturbing tableaus are sure to linger in the mind. The stories themselves are mostly contemporary, but there’s a timeless quality to the themes being explored. Namely, the domestic fears of everyday life – particularly those that haunt young women. Logan takes the things we’re told by society to aim for – the gorgeous home, the perfect family, the successful life – and spins our apprehensions about them into what reads like a series of fever dreams, as though she has literally documented her nightmares in the form of a dream diary. What if our houses aren’t the safe spaces we always imagined? What if you find the experience of pregnancy and childbirth horrifying rather than beautiful? How would you cope if your child wasn’t healthy or happy? What if you wished you’d never become a parent at all? What if you can never escape the horrors of your past? These fears and more are explored in claustrophobic, hypnotic ways by employing a dash of fairy tale, a twist of the supernatural, and a generous pinch of magical realism.

With around 20 stories in all, this is a generous collection. Though I very much enjoyed the dark, ethereal tone employed throughout, there were comparatively few that stood out as individual highlights. Those that did were Birds Fell From the Sky and Each One Spoke in Your Voice, which follows a man haunted by the long-ago death of his brother, and Good Good Good, Nice Nice Nice, a semi sci-fi tale about a woman who works at a baby growing farm (it’s hard to explain), who is struggling with the care of her own sickly baby. Other stories I enjoyed included one about a woman who feels isolated after moving to a new country, one about a woman who has fallen in love with her friend, and one about a woman who discovers disturbing realities regarding her deceased grandmother when she inherits her house.

Sadly, most of the other stories began to blend into one, making this a collection I’m far more likely to remember for its overall mood than I am for its specific plots and characters. Whilst I was consistently hooked by the fantastic concepts and themes at play, a few too many stories tipped into ‘weird for the sake of being weird’ territory for my personal taste. It’s a shame, as when this collection is good, it’s very, very good. I’m more than willing to accept that my own high expectations contributed to my slightly lukewarm response. Logan is still an author I very much admire, and I will continue to follow her career with excitement.

If you’d like to give Things We Say in the Dark a go, you can pick up a copy from Book Depository by clicking here.

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Let’s Recommend | Gothic Fiction

I’ve recommended gothic reads in the past, and I stand by those recommendations. But since it’s my favourite genre, and autumn/winter is the perfect time to indulge in some unsettling, atmospheric, and immersive reads, I thought I’d recommend a few more. In case any catch your eye, I’ve linked to each book on Book Depository. And as always, I encourage you all to share your own recommendations in return!

The Corset by Laura Purcell

[image error]Described as a Victorian chiller, The Corset follows two young women in very different circumstances. Ruth is a teenage seamstress awaiting trial for murder. Dorothea is a wealthy socialite, whose fascination with phrenology leads her to Oakgate Prison, where she hopes to uncover the truth behind Ruth’s case. An air of mystery and threat bubbles throughout, with the book exploring notions of female autonomy, the horror of poverty, and the psychological impact of trauma. Flirtations with the possibility of something supernatural are handled incredibly well, elevating this gothic gem to the heights of subtle literary horror.

A Spell of Winter by Helen Dunmore

[image error]Written in sumptuous, evocative prose, A Spell of Winter is a strangely beguiling tale that explores forbidden love, the burden of secrets, and the struggle to escape the cloying inheritance of family. Set largely in the build up to WWI, we have many hallmarks of the gothic genre, including an imposing manor home, a family cutting themselves off from the outside world, and dangerous secrets that threaten to tear them all apart. Tense and quietly eerie without ever boiling over, I was utterly enthralled.

House of Glass by Susan Fletcher

[image error]Clara, a young woman with a rare brittle bone condition and a passion for botany, is invited to establish a glasshouse at Shadowbrook, an infamous country home. Upon arrival, she finds an owner conspicuous by absence, and residents terrified of a supposed haunting. Clara soon sets her practical mind to solving the crumbling manor’s mysteries. In many ways, this is a book of opposites; of truth versus lies, logic versus faith, and reality versus the supernatural, as we follow the unravelling of long-held secrets, and examine the devastating ways women’s lives were ruled by scandal, rumour, and reputation. This is gothic historic fiction at its best, and is easily one of my books of the year so far.

Dracula by Bram Stoker

[image error]There’s no one reading this who hasn’t heard of Dracula. It’s one of those books that is so iconic, we tend to think we know all about if before we even read it, leaving us to wonder if it’s worth the time and effort. Having finally picked it up for myself last year, I can confidently say that it absolutely is. So much more nuanced than I expected, I loved its fascinating take on gender roles, the Victorian fixation with bodily and sexual corruption, and the timeless fear of the unknown. As a lover of gothic and horror fiction, it was really fun to see many of the foundations upon which those genres would flourish being set down. There is some very interesting use of queer coding to examine too, but above all else, it remains a gripping, atmospheric page turner.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

[image error]It’s worth pointing out that this is very, very different from the recent Netflix adaptation, which only shares the book’s name and generally creepy nature. Jackson’s novel is a masterclass in the less is more approach to horror, completely forgoing gore or jump scares. Far more psychological than its screen counterpart, it creeps beneath your skin, forcing you to question what is real and which characters can be trusted. A rumination on the invasive influence of storytelling and fear, and the dangerous power of the imagination, themes of suppression, sisterhood, and belonging simmer to reach a breathless fever pitch. Intelligent, understated, and downright unsettling, this take on the classic haunted house narrative is all the better for its ambiguity.

Have you read any of these? What gothic reads would you recommend?

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A Murder Is Announced | Theatre Review

Show: A Murder Is Announced

Venue: Perth Theatre

Date: 9th October 2019

Writer: Agatha Christie, adapted for the stage by Leslie Darbon

Director: Michael Lunney

Principal cast: Sarah Thomas (Miss Marple), Kazia Pelka (Letitia Blacklock), Tom Butcher (Inspector Craddock), & Jenny Funnell (Dora Bunner)

[image error]I read the book this is based on a few weeks ago, and though it wasn’t my favourite of Christie’s work, it was actually surprisingly fun being able to watch this adaptation knowing the final outcome. Doing so allowed me to pick up on all the little clues that eventually add up to help Miss Marple figure out whodunnit. It was a great way to appreciate just how meticulous Christie’s approach to plotting was.

Reading the novel beforehand is certainly not a requirement, but given that it is one of Christie’s more convoluted yarns, I do think prior knowledge of the plot’s intricacies helped me follow the increasingly complicated dynamic between the fairly large cast of characters as various secrets were unravelled.

The adaptation itself is a largely faithful one, though it has been scaled back somewhat to accommodate the show’s run time and production requirements. Taking place across a few days, and all set within the same room, it’s a show scant on action (with the body count reduced to just two). Instead, it’s packed with wry humour, red herrings, and fast wordplay that hides the truth.

The cast included a number of recognisable faces from British stage and screen. Sarah Thomas was suitably charming and witty as Marple, but Lydia Piechowiak’s eccentric, paranoid, and hilarious Mitzi was definitely the scene stealer. As my first taste of Christie on the stage, this served as a good introduction. Well aware that she’s produced smarter, more thrilling plots, however, I’m excited to see how more of her work translates to a live setting.

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The Deathless Girls by Kiran Millwood Hargrave | Book Review

The Deathless Girls by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

Published by Hodder & Stoughton, 2019

My rating:

[image error]With echoes of classic fairy tales and dark fantasy, this young adult novel serves as a prequel to Bram Stoker’s Dracula, exploring the untold story of the ‘dark sisters’, often referred to in popular culture as the Brides of Dracula. In this respect, there’s a quiet tragedy that looms over the narrative; a sense of inevitability that plays nicely into the primary theme of fate versus freewill, as we watch Lillai and Kisaiya’s doomed attempts to gain freedom and escape eternal damnation.

Long before the concept of vampirism is introduced, themes of fear and othering have already come into play. Our protagonists are snatched from a community of Travellers, and they have long been exposed to vitriol and scaremongering thanks to a legacy of misinformed legend. During their time in enforced labour, Lillai also begins to explore her sexuality, falling for another of the castle’s captured girls. Though I felt some key moments of their blossoming relationship were rushed, impacting its believability, it was heartening to see a queer romance in a historical novel that is neither shoehorned in, nor the narrative’s driving force. I was also relieved that the youthful romance never detracted from the main dynamic under the microscope here; the power and importance of sisterhood.

The setting, tone, and prose all pay homage to the gothic genre, even if the writing does have a tendency to slip into melodramatic metaphors now and then. But to me, the book’s greatest strength is how well it pitches itself as a prequel/reimagining. Though the book’s biggest selling point is easily its ties to the lore of Dracula, the eponymous character is absent for almost the entire novel. This is successful for a number of reasons. Firstly, it’s consistent with his surprisingly scant appearances throughout the original novel. Secondly, it avoids oversaturation of a character that is, by design, at his most commanding when he remains enigmatic and elusive. Thirdly – and most importantly – it allows this book to function wholly as the sisters’ story, reclaiming their names, natures, hopes, and dreams. By keeping the focus firmly on the girls as they were before they became Dracula’s companions, it grants them a quietly feminist agency that if anything, enhances the depth and impact of their eventual appearance in Bram Stoker’s masterwork.

So, while this may not be a perfect read, the occasional forays into overblown imagery, a somewhat hasty romance, and a few handy coincidences never detracted from how atmospheric and gripping it was. A book of this kind has two main functions: to pay tribute to a beloved classic, and to entertain based on its own merits. The Deathless Girls succeeds on both fronts.

If you’d like to give The Deathless Girls a go, you can pick up a copy from Book Depository by clicking here. If you’ve already read it, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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