Callum McLaughlin's Blog, page 4
December 1, 2021
November Wrap Up
Well… November happened. On a personal level, it was far from a great month, I’m afraid. Sadly, I had to say goodbye to my beloved pupper, Barney. He was the sweetest, gentlest bundle of scruff, and I’ll miss him every day, but I know he had a long and happy life.
I felt I had to acknowledge his loss, but in the spirit of normality, here’s a quick wrap up of the reading and embroidery projects I managed throughout the month during happier moments.
Books read: 7
Yearly total: 93
The books I read in November
1. Come Closer by Sara Gran
| Review
2. Play It As It Lays by Joan Didion
| Review
3. The Employees by Olga Ravn, tr. by Martin Aitken
| Review
4. Julia and the Shark by Kiran Millwood Hargrave
| Review
5. Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan
| Review
6. You Better Be Lightning by Andrea Gibson
| Review to come
7. The Fell by Sarah Moss
| Review
Favourite of the month: You Better Be Lightning
Aside from a distinctly summery beach hut scene (which was a commissioned piece), most of my embroidery and weaving projects for November had a distinctly cosy and Christmassy feel. I particularly enjoyed working on the little robins, which I have a real soft spot for. Some of these pieces are still available to buy over on my Etsy shop if you’d like to snag one in time for the holidays!
There we have it! What was your favourite read in November? Are you on track to hit your goals before the end of the year?
November 28, 2021
The Fell by Sarah Moss | Book Review
The Fell by Sarah Moss
Published by Picador, 2021
Rating:
Set during November 2020, at the height of the UK’s covid lockdown, the events of The Fell take place across a single day and night. We follow multiple perspectives: Kate, who, struggling to get through a 2-week quarantine period after testing positive for the virus, takes to the hills for a solitary walk despite this breaching government guidelines; Matt, her teenage son, also forced to isolate at home; Alice, their widowed next-door neighbour who is shielding due to ongoing cancer recovery; and Rob, a volunteer mountain rescuer, called in to search for Kate when she fails to return.
Thematically, it’s impossible for the book not to resonate to some extent, given how close to home it all is. It’s very much about the physical and mental ramifications of loneliness and isolation, and how compassion and community must ultimately triumph over fear if we’re to make it through. Though Kate is the narrative lynchpin, Alice is by far the most interesting character. Through her voice, Moss does a great job of reflecting the constant stream of contradictory thoughts that many of us will be able to relate to; simultaneously thankful for and angry about the limitations forced upon us by covid restrictions; feeling at once personally victimised by the pandemic, and grateful for the privileges we have compared to others. Moss also captures the strange reality of how boring, monotonous and domestic living through a real-life dystopian plague has proven to be, despite the situation sounding so alien and dramatic if it had been pitched to us some 2 years ago.
The trouble is, while I admire Moss’ efforts, by attempting to write a book so of-the-moment, its publication in 2021 feels at once outdated and too soon. Though covid anxiety is still very much a constant in most of our lives, most of us also have far greater freedoms than we did this time last year – not to mention the breakthrough of the ongoing vaccine rollout. Living in such bizarre and ever-changing times, as we are, the lockdown of winter 2020 somehow feels a world away already, and yet, having not emerged at the other side of the tunnel just yet, true reflection and hindsight on life-in-covid-times feels premature.
Plow wise, there’s not a huge amount to talk about, and what there is follows a predictable trajectory. As seems to be the case quite often in Moss’ novels, much is left unresolved; the plot more a vehicle to explore her characters and themes. While I can understand that decision from a creative standpoint – given that we are still now in the midst of the pandemic about which she is writing, hence we don’t have all the answers yet either – its open-endedness will likely frustrate some.
Where Moss really excels, as always, is her keen human observation, and her ability to write beautifully and evocatively about the landscape. This latter point is particularly relevant in this instance, given the importance of the hills to the action itself, and the almost mythical alure of open countryside that many felt throughout lockdown.
All-in-all, I found this an admirable if slightly clumsy attempt to give voice to our collective experience of living through a pandemic. It’s far from my favourite Moss novel so far, but it hasn’t dampened by desire to check out more.
November 23, 2021
Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan | Book Review
Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan
Published by Faber & Faber, 2021
Rating:
Set in the run up to Christmas in 1980s Ireland, this understated yet powerful little novel looks at the ideas of compassion and secrets; those we cannot see and those we choose not to.
We follow Bill Furlong, a coal merchant working hard to provide throughout the harsh winter for his wife and five daughters. After inadvertently uncovering a distressing truth about the goings on within the local Magdalene Laundry, he must wrestle with the reality of complacency and wilful ignorance within the Catholic Church. His discovery also prompts a re-evaluation of events from his own childhood, emphasising the idea of cycles repeating themselves throughout time, unless someone is brave enough to defy the status quo.
Keegan’s prose is deceptively simple. With few words, she paints vivid pictures of a very specific time and place within Irish history. The dialogue also feels authentic and considered, with just as much importance lying in what remains unsaid. Indeed, she chooses to forgo any hint of sensationalism, the true horrors inferred without the need for gratuity.
Sad yet full of hope, Small Things Like These perfectly captures the feelings of charm, nostalgia, melancholy, and longing that so often go hand-in-hand during the festive period. It’s a tender ode to the resilience of the working classes, and the quiet yet vital heroism of those who choose not to turn a blind eye.
November 19, 2021
Olga Ravn & Kiran Millwood Hargrave | Mini Reviews
The Employees by Olga Ravn
Translated from the Danish by Martin Aitken
Published by Lolli Editions, 2020
Rating:
This is presented as a series of mission logs from the vast crew aboard a ship millions of kilometres from Earth. A blend of humans and humanoid beings, this ruminative little novel is a series of semi-abstract vignettes concerned with classic sci-fi questions: What does it mean to be human? Where is the line between living and merely being alive? Is there a danger of pushing science and technology too far?
As alluring as these themes continue to be – hence why so many authors continue to visit them – I don’t feel like this presents us with anything particularly new or impactful. If a book is – albeit deliberately – void of traditional plot and character development, I would hope for stunning prose and insightful social commentary. While Ravn’s offering is solid enough on these fronts to be worth checking out, again it doesn’t feel like she’s breaking any new ground.
In all, I appreciate the unique structure, strong translation, and ever-appealing themes, but was ultimately left feeling cold.
Julia and the Shark by Kiran Millwood Hargrave
Published by Orion, 2021
Rating:
With her father hired to work on digitising a lighthouse, and her marine biologist mother seeing this as the perfect opportunity to continue her research into the rare Greenland shark, Julia moves to a remote island for the summer. Across the months that follow, she will encounter friendship, othering, and the reality of her mother’s deteriorating mental state.
By focussing much more closely on its characters, and placing an important emphasis on big themes such as mental health and conservation, this is the kind of middle grade release that really transcends any potential limitations of its target age range. As such, I can see it speaking to adult readers just as much as their younger counterparts. The prose is engrossing without feeling overwrought, reaffirming that Kiran Millwood Hargrave is as an author I’m excited to follow.
November 11, 2021
Play It As It Lays by Joan Didion | Book Review
Play It As It Lays by Joan Didion
Published by Simon & Schuster, 1970
Rating:
This relative fever dream of a novel opens with our protagonist, former actress and model Maria, institutionalised following a breakdown. We are then taken through a series of visceral snapshots from throughout her life, exploring the misogynistic and toxic nature of life in Hollywood, and the impact of her own self-destructive behaviour. Much of this is driven by mental illness, life’s many knocks, the betrayals of men, and the yearning she feels to be with her hospitalised daughter, who is suffering from an unspecified illness of the brain.
The book is kaleidoscopic and alienating, but in a way that serves its central themes and characterisation. Scant on plot in the traditional sense and jumping erratically back and forth through time, Maria’s story is presented in a way that feels suitably fragmented, chaotic, and lacking in direction. Many have also argued that her story is relentlessly bleak. While this is mostly true, I do think there’s a faint yet important glimmer of hope to be found in her eventual acceptance of help, rejection of old acquaintances, and determination to reunite with her daughter. Sometimes to simply carry on living in the face of misery is in itself a victory, and Didion explores this idea to poignant effect.
I also have huge admiration for how bold and unashamed the book is in its tackling of subjects which continue to be taboo now, let alone when Didion was writing about them.
The prose itself is sharp and deceptively powerful; Didion’s eye for human observation providing keen insight into her anti-heroine’s psyche. I do, however, think it’s worth flagging up the unchallenged use of some outdated terms that would now be considered slurs. A product of the book’s time, their use never feels malicious, but it’s inevitable that many modern readers will find them jarring. Still, this was never enough to detract from the impact of this perceptive, brutally honest portrayal of a woman in crisis. It’s an attack on the vapid systems that exist to build women up, only to tear them back down; a notion that sadly still resonates more than 50 years after the book’s initial release.
November 8, 2021
Mary Beard & Sara Gran | Mini Reviews
Women & Power by Mary Beard
Published by Profile Books, 2017
Rating:
Succinct, eloquent, and approachable, this does a very good job of laying out the extent to which Western society is structured and coded to keep men in power, and to underplay the merits of women and feminine energy.
As a classicist, Beard is well placed to discuss the failings of the classics in their portrayal of women, and why it’s important to recognise that a lot of modern-day misogyny and gendered stereotypes have their roots in ancient history and problematic cultural portrayals of women.
As Beard points out herself in the afterword, the content itself is already somewhat outdated, the rise of the #MeToo movement throughout the last few years drastically increasing public awareness as to the extent of ingrained sexism. It also doesn’t present much in the way of solutions, but its brevity makes it a handy, accessible jumping off point for further thought and reading.
Come Closer by Sara Gran
Published by Faber & Faber, 2021 (first published in 2003)
Rating:
A woman with a seemingly perfect life starts to act out in increasingly strange and violent ways, eventually coming to fear she has been possessed by a demon. With the story told in first-person, Amanda is a classic example of an unreliable narrator. Though her narrative style is fast-paced and matter-of-fact, her blackouts, erratic behaviour, and frequent loss of control mean we can never be certain what to believe.
The plot itself follows a very predictable trajectory, though there are some genuinely unsettling moments peppered throughout, and perhaps certain aspects would have felt fresher back when the book was first published.
Come Closer can be read as a genuine supernatural tale just as easily as it can be interpreted as a documentation of a woman’s descent into madness in the face of a life she doesn’t want. That said, while this may not bring anything new to the table, if you like your horror ambiguous and psychological, this is well worth checking out.
October 31, 2021
October Wrap Up
October was definitely another month where quality took precedence over quantity when it came to my reader, but I can certainly live with that! Here’s a quick roundup of my month in books, followed by a look at the embroidery (and weaving) projects I’ve been working on.
Books read: 7
Yearly total: 86
The books I read in October
1. Death on the Nile by Agatha Christie
| Review
2. Mrs Fox by Sarah Hall
| Review
3. Tonight We Rule the World by Zack Smedley
| Review to come
4. Come See the Living Dryad by Theodora Goss
| Review
5. Endless Night by Agatha Christie
| Review
6. The Book of Mother by Violaine Huisman, tr. by Leslie Camhi
| Review to come
7. Women & Power by Mary Beard
| Review to come
Favourite of the month: Tonight We Rule the World
Thankfully, October was much more productive for me when it came to embroidery. This included getting a head start on some festive bits and pieces – It’s early, I know, but I wanted to make sure I factored in plenty of time for international shipping, and for those who like to get organized ahead of the game! I’ve also been trying out (and loving!) hand weaving, which led to a few mini wall hangings. Here’s a look at the projects I completed throughout the month, some of which are still available over on my little Etsy shop.
What was your favourite read in October?
October 24, 2021
Endless Night by Agatha Christie | Book Review
Endless Night by Agatha Christie
Published by Harper, 1967
Rating:
Though this doesn’t seem to be one of Christie’s best-known or most talked about books, it quickly became one of my favourites. Hugely compelling, it has many of the hallmarks you’d expect from a classic Christie novel, including a central element of mystery, well-drawn characters, fantastic dialogue, and an intricate tapestry of clues that leads to a startling truth. Where this stands out among the rest of Christie’s work, however, is how heavily she leans into the conventions of gothic literature – complete with a grand, imposing house, and whispers of the supernatural.
We follow Mike and Ellie, a young couple from opposite ends of the social spectrum who set out to build their dream home in the country. Unfortunately for them, not all the locals are welcoming; the plot of land they’ve chosen rumoured to be subject to a historic curse. It soon becomes clear that someone or something wants them to leave.
As readable as ever, Christie builds a sense of brooding tension incredibly well, the subtly sinister undertones bringing to mind the work of Daphne du Maurier. There’s also some fantastic social commentary concerning class divides – both the freedoms and the trappings that come with money.
I won’t say much else as I don’t want to risk spoiling the experience of this little gem. Perfectly paced, the story plays out in some truly surprising ways, with Christie keeping me on my toes as much as ever. As I continue to gradually make my way through her back catalogue, I’d be thrilled to uncover some more that blend crime with elements of psychological horror as seamlessly as this.
October 21, 2021
Sarah Hall & Theodora Goss | Mini Reviews
Mrs Fox by Sarah Hall
Published by Faber & Faber, 2019
Rating:
Beautifully written, strange enough to captivate, and brief enough to avoid overstretching our suspension of disbelief. This little allegorical tale of transformation could be interpreted in several ways, but to me it spoke poignantly of the difference between love and possession, embracing our true nature, and learning to let go.
As a taster of Hall’s work, it was great, and I’d definitely like to check out more from her in the future.
Come See the Living Dryad by Theodora Goss
Published by Tor Books, 2017
Rating:
There’s a great concept here, and I love the sentiment being explored – that those vilified in the past due to ignorance deserve retribution. But sadly, I found it a bit surface level. Granted, given the story’s short length, the author didn’t have a huge amount of scope to work with, but the central mystery plays out exactly as you’d expect, and the final section becomes a bit heavy-handed and literal.
Perhaps with a little more breathing space, things could have rolled out more organically, and these characters’ stories could have made a greater emotional impact.
October 7, 2021
Death on the Nile by Agatha Christie | Book Review
Death on the Nile by Agatha Christie
Published by HarperCollins, 1937
Rating:
It’s always such a pleasure to come back to Christie, and every time I read one of her novels, I wonder why I don’t do so more often. I won’t really go into plot specifics for this one. As one of her most celebrated classics, you’ll either know all about it already, or you can enjoy unpicking its mysteries for yourself.
Suffice to say, Death on the Nile features all the very best qualities associated with Christie’s work: A cast of well-established characters; lots of twists and red herrings to keep you guessing; contrasting moments of thrilling excitement and wry humour; incredibly readable prose; deceptively shrewd examples of human observation; an intricate tapestry of clues that weave together to form a smart, satisfying conclusion.
The only negative I could mention relates to the length and pacing. There’s no denying this could have been shorter, with the novel’s first half given over to setting up context and motives for each of the many characters. In the hands of virtually any other writer, this would have become tiresome, but there’s an effortless charm to Christie’s writing, characterisation, and evocation of time and place, that allows her to get away with it. Once the first murder takes place, the pace ramps up considerably, and I’m pleased to say she kept me guessing until the very end.
It hasn’t dethroned my favourite Christie, which remains And Then There Were None, but this certainly ranks highly among the 16 I’ve read thus far. As I always say when I finish one of her books, I can’t wait to read more!
As a side note, I buddy read this with my friends Jess and Rachel, which was lots of fun!
