I was born in Gothenburg Sweden into a family of readers and writers. My father is a newspaper editor and columnist, as is my brother. My mother, who stayed at home looking after the family, furnished the walls of every room with shelves full of books. We were a family that read and discussed and whereas there were restrictions about what we were allowed to watch on TV, and comic books were discouraged, books were a different matter; basically, the rule was that my brother and I could read whatever we could reach. (It was a happy day when, standing on a chair, I got hold of Fanny Hill.)
Ours was a liberal and tolerant household but some sins, I had imprinted on me, were beyond the pale, book burning and censorship of the written word were two of them. Hanging on his wall at his office at the newspaper my father had a quote from Voltaire. Translated from French into Swedish and then by me, into English, it went something like this: 'I may well not agree with your opinion, but I will defend to the death your right to state it.'
Growing up I was pretty well the standard embryo writer - you know the kind? Prone to daydreaming, constantly reading, feeling as if I were on the outside looking in, finding the world of books more relevant than the 'real' world I lived in.
Aged nineteen I married a British naval officer and moved to England. Before the move I had had just one year at university so, arriving here, I had no idea of what I was going to do with my life. But not for long as my son was born the following year and three years after that, my daughter. Life as a naval wife was a mix of periods of loneliness and periods of great fun and adventure. But as we settled in the Hampshire countryside, having decided that following the fleet was not so practical with two school age children, I began to think about writing. I had always been a great 'trier outer' of things, and it has to be said, also a great quitter, but almost the minute I sat down to write I felt as if I had come home. I had never kept a diary, not for longer than a week anyway (although I bought many, especially those which had a little tiny gold key) or written stories as a child- thought them up yes, but written them down no - but here I was, feeling as if I had walked straight through a doorway marked, Life's Work.
Of course, as the weeks and months became years I realised that it would be much more of a struggle to persuade the world (other than my family who were hugely supportive) that I was a writer than it had been convincing myself. But finally, when I was thirty-five, my novel Guppies For Tea, a story about growing old and fighting back, was accepted for publication. Several other publishers had turned it down saying no one was interested in reading about old people. Luckily, as it turns out, they were wrong. Even so, if it had not been for the help of my friend the writer Elizabeth Buchan, and that of Hilary Johnson of The New Writers' Scheme, whose interest in, and support of new writing went well beyond that which was purely romantic, I might never have been published. This taught me that luck and the goodwill and support of others is essential in the writing business as in so much else.
Oddly enough, instead of feeling the euphoria I had expected once my dream of being a published author had come true, I went into a kind of prolonged sulk. I spent many hours thinking up plans for how to minimise the humiliations I was sure would follow publication, including working out how many copies of my own book I could afford to buy up and stash away in the garage.
As it turned out, Guppies For Tea, was rather a lucky book. It was picked for the first W.H. Smith's Fresh Talent promotion, ensuring nationwide review coverage, massive distribution and the kind of support most new writers can only dream of. Following that the book was short-listed for The Sunday Express Book of the Year and after that it was serialised on Woman's Hour. As one a
Another one from my shelf of guilty pleasures, possibly THE worst book from it, definitely in the top 5 worst books I have ever read.
I didn't have high expectations to begin with, based on this being a guilt pleasure read. When these types of books start to disappoint, frustrate or are just too cheesy or silly, I get some enjoyment out of ridiculing the plot to get me over the finish line.
I’m a completionist and don’t like leaving books left unfinished. So when I get to this stage of a book I’m no longer enjoying, I adopt the alter ego stance of a patronising, English stuffy literary critic - a bookish Anton Ego if you will. And it helps me get through by snickering at the bad bits and learning from them for my own writing.
That being said, I wasn't expecting this book to be this terrible.
It got sad bad. I actually got to the point where it was no longer fun taking the piss out of it anymore and instead I just felt sorry for it. Like watching someone take too many punches to the stomach, over and over and over and over again.
I had to skim so much to the point I barely read it, the storyline and writing were so terrible.
When a character is referred to as a pet name so often you forget what they're actually called, a good writer should know it's time to stop.
When the pet name is as abysmal as "Angel Face" you know you have written utter sh*te. Don't even get me started on the Mount Olympus bollocks!
I love this book! It's just so funny. Here are some of my favourite bits:
Words were dangerous things. Once let out they took on a life of their own, pulling consequences along with them, reproducing, prompting reactions, making solid that which had been shadowy and only partially formed. Words, once spoken or written, chased your illusions away.
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I'm not sure I would equate romance with communism.
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"Do you think Robert Mugabe is at peace with himself?" I asked. "There he is, tyrant of the year, destroying his country, impoverishing and imprisoning his people, torturing his opponents and yet, and yet he has the most incredible skin for a man in his mid-eighties."
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Of course I believe in love. But romantic love ... Yes it is delicious, a delicious madness that cannot, indeed should not, last. Yet people enter into lifelong commitments like marriage and co-parenting on the basis of it, which is about as sensible as buying a house because you liked the pretty flowers in the hall.
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Maggie looked as sympathetic as a woman who had named her bank account Saehrimnir possibly could, Saehrimnir being the roast pig in Valhalla who, having been consumed at one feast, renewed himself in time for the next.
Rebecca Finch is an author famous for romantic novels, and then somehow she loses faith in love. The book starts off really well, with a hilarious scene that had me laughing out loud - she accidentally loses her boyfriend on the way to a romantic trip to Paris by leaving him around on the platform. After this scene I was expecting a witty, but light read. And yet it all goes downhill after that.
The concept is really good, where Aphrodite herself is tearing her hair out over this author while attempting to make her believe in love again, while the author is hallucinating a judgmental clown. The story was fairly slow with very forgettable side characters to the point where I didn't really care about what happens, even halfway through. I pushed myself to finish it, but in the end it wasn't worth it for me.
Rather gentle story of a woman who writes romance but has lost faith in it herself due to meeting the wrong people.Which is where the Olympic gods move in to help. She should have met and married someone quite else years ago, and the gods (or fate) conspire somewhat haphazardly to right this wrong turning in her life. Moving, funny and warm, with compelling characters, both real and godly, Aphrodite's Workshop is romance for grown ups.
I was fortunate enough to read an advance copy of this book and I absolutely loved it. Liked the chapters between the Gods and what they should do about love and humans. This book really made me laugh out loud in some parts and it seems every chapter has classic lines.Honestly buy the book you won't be disappointed!
This was a lovely novel. It was the one Marika Cobbold novel that I hadn't read yet and I was putting it off because I thought it looked too silly. And, you know, it was silly...but in a delightful way. Well imagined and just charming.
I could have done with either one of the main stories tbh, not both. And while I don't mind a certain level of predictability, this all felt a bit like being continuously hit over the head with 'chick lit 🤢' tropes.
Nice enough for a casual read, but I found it difficult to connect with any of the characters. The bits with Rebecca and John respectively felt like the book was kind of just stumbling about with no particular direction right up until the very end.
A book to wile away a sunny day A different book by Marina Cobbold written in the naughtiest and so more up to date. The idea was clever but it was way too contrived. I was very bored by the end and I raced to just finish!
2nd time reading this. First time in about 10years but it always stayed with me. I HATE romance. But this is the only degree of romance i can tolerate. An initially satirical but redeeming look at love with some greek Gods thrown in for some fantasy. I needed a nice easy going read after reading too many of my fav heavy, depressing books. This will remain a favourite.
One of my favourite comic novels of all time - I constantly give this book for birthdays and Christmas presents. The central conceit is gloriously orginal and the characters flow into the narrative and are carried away by it in the most satisfying and vastly entertaining way. Coco the clown is one of the greatest creations of 20thC literatue in my opinion. SIX stars out of five
This was kind of cute. I thought it was a bit of a throwback to some of the author's earlier work, with more whimsy than Frozen Music or Shooting Butterflies, which are my favourite books by her.
This was probably a bit too quirky, actually, for me, what with Aphrodite and Eros actively entering the fray, but the marriage stories that she included as Rebecca searched for tales of happy marriages, actually help anchor the story down as they were quite realistic and, I think, showed some of the common relationship problems like taking a partner for granted, lack of respect (sometimes mutual), and failure to value and cherish the person since living side-by-side, even with a common cause, is not enough to keep love alive in any form, let alone a romantic one. Some great observations and well-written.
The story wrapped up quickly, as now seems typical for the author and I wish she would stop as I enjoy her writing style and don't appreciate the rushed feeling and rapid endings. This is probably not a keeper for me and maybe a part of that is that I have been waiting for such a long time (since 2004) and this was a bit light and brief.
I am not someone who reads much romantic fiction or chic-lit but I am always drawn to novels that feature gods and goddesses. While I wasn't wowed by this novel it did have its moments and as Marika indicates on her website serious issues are explored "behind the fun". In many ways I'd rather read this kind of light fiction with hidden depths than some depressing drama about relationships that pounds the message home.
Plus, here there were the gods and goddess of ancient Greece reflecting on the mortal condition. Many of the best moments in the novel were provided by Eros, the only character who seemed to realise they were in a comedy. He was rather like Puck in A Midsummer's Night Dream, with his arrows causing the same kind of confusion as Oberon's potion. Aphrodite's attempt to pass herself off as a mortal also was very amusing.
Both protagonists had mental health issues and I felt that these were dealt with in a down-to-earth and non-judgemental manner. However, one manifestation of Rebecca's breakdown was the appearance of Coco, the bi-polar clown. I have a fear of clowns and so was a little freaked out whenever Coco popped up.
I tried to go into this with an open mind. I thought, don't be judgemental about subject matter or presentational style. Judge the book on its own merits. What I discovered was a level of prose suitable for an eight year old, an uninspiring story and characterisation that just never really takes off.
I think the appeal of a story like this must be that the reader can project their own life into pages and treat it like an assisted daydream. Having absolutely nothing in common with the protagonist, I found that impossible to manage. I know I am the wrong audience for this novel but I didn't think a lot of it. I gave it two stars because I liked the idea of the Greek God's intervening in such a mundane issue. If Cobbold had done a bit more reading on the actual personalities of the God's this could potentially have been brilliant.
I guess this was supposed to be a funny and easy book that should make the reader feel better. Fair enough.
As for me, I did enjoy the book, the greek gods and godesses trying to cope with modern people, an author (Rebecca) of romantic books looses faith in love altogether. Aphrodite herself must intervene in her life. Very clever story.
This is, however, not really my type of book genre, but for not being that - it was pretty good.
What I didn't like was that there are points when things just gets messier and messier. I’ve always found that very stressful.
It has now been over a year since I read the book. My goal was to finish it before college in New York started (I was home in Stockholm over christmas) and so I did.
I downloaded this audiobook on a whim, mainly because it was available and sounded fun. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was well-written, quirky, and clever. It also turned out to be a book that really had a lot to say about relationships, and I found myself mulling over much of the content for days after finishing the actual book. So it had a deeper side that I was not expecting.
I was a little disappointed in the ending, which seemed very abrupt and rushed, as if someone had told the author she should wind things up now. However, it still ended the way I hoped it would, so I can't complain too much. ;)
Nothing I've read with Greek gods comes off as anything more than a clumsy, hackneyed joke. It's an appealing idea, and part of why I read this anyway, but it fails here too. I was annoyed by Aphrodite's overdone behaviour as a therapist. No one would have sat there for that. I thought the point of the book was going to be the solution to the problem of the dissolution of romantic love. It was a little more interesting than that, only offering the foolishness of hope and persistence as a solution, but it could have been made more powerfully. I liked the relationship stories. Overall, enjoyable, but like almost all novels that have a gimmick, a concept, needed better execution.
After reading a somber (yet good) novel about Russian Revolution with plenty of executions , anger and violence I thought it would be nice to read something lighter. And so I picked this one ( first because of the title and its cover) and it was indeed a good choice. Although it was a light and funny reading. it raised a few questions about the nature and the ways of love without being too preachy. And to lighten even more the novel, there were the gods of Mount Olympus as comic relief. It would not surprise me if in the future it was adapted to the big screen. It would be a great comedy....
There were parts of this book that really made me smile, I loved Rebecca and the journey that she went on through the course of the book, and her search for the stories of "happy ever after", I even liked the "change" of therapist twist.
The parts I struggled with and had me struggling to keep going were the moments where we were with the Gods, yes there were glimmers of humour but for me that just didn't work, now Coco? He was was a different clown all together!
Picked this up on sale for a few dollars and it still wasn't worth it. After much diatribe (nothing original) about the state of romance in today's world, OF COURSE she ends up getting married to the chap. I don't even consider this a spoiler as its so bloody predictable. I haven't read anything from this chick lit genre for ages, apparently for good reason.
The basic idea was somewhat cute - Aphrodite thinks, considering the current divorce rate, that humans need a hand in maintaining a long-lasting love life, so that she can regain some credibility on the Olympe. The implementation is slow, the end predictible and doesn't even answer the original predicate.
Rebecca Finch is a renowned romantic novelist - who is becoming disillusioned with love. Aphrodite has put her on a pedestal as the writer for her love club and feels personally affronted that she no longer believes in love.
I started to enjoy this book about halfway through. It's a good book for escapism but it's not one of my favourites in this genre.