Amalia Gkavea

I won't write an elaborate (and boring...) Introduction about how much I longed to read this book. It was one of my most coveted treasures from the moment I bought it and I wanted to savour it and underline the living daylights out of it.

Unfortunately, by the beginning of the fourth chapter, I couldn't wait to finish it and forget about it. It was a shuddering disappointment, a book I never thought I'd actually hate. But I did and I am thoroughly saddened by this reading experience.

The Forest (I deliberately use a capital ‘'F'') has played a vital role in the creation of fairy tales since the dawning of time. From Red Riding Hood and Snow White
to obscure tales from every culture in the world, the mysticism, the strangeness, the threat of the Forest have provided ample material for legends of adventures, princesses and princes that are tested, disobedient children that need to learn what is right and what is wrong, impossible tasks that must be carried out and chances for a resolution where the good is rewarded. In this book, Maitland attempts to emphasize the deep connection between forests and fairytales through an interesting, no doubt, journey on 12 forests in Britain. Each month is dedicated to a specific forest. From March to February, we are guided to the influence of the flora and fauna of British nature. The oakwoods, the beech woods, the May beauty of the New Forest, the connection between mining and the dwarves, the mystery of fungi. It sounds quite a blast, doesn't it? Unfortunately, the only blast is the impossibly rude, authoritative tone of the writer.

Her sources are limited, practically non-existent. For the most part, her descriptions were repetitive and bland. At certain points, all of a sudden, they became so ‘'flowery'' that my eyes were rolling by the minute. Footnotes after footnotes don't work when there is no cohesion, when your voice is so abrupt, so authoritative. When you pass judgment on others. When your syntactic and grammatical mistakes are so obvious that even a 10-year-old student would avoid. When your personal and subjective notion on femininity, womanhood, tradition, and religion is shoved down our throats page by page. When you use a loud ‘'We'' to ascertain and verify your personal beliefs and observations. No. When your retellings of famous fairytales are loaded with sexual connotations and cheap alterations. When you accuse Tolkien of ‘'sexism'' because there was no female member in the Fellowship (!) This is cheap, uneducated ‘'feminism'' to the extreme. When a father allows his children to go to the woods provided they have a cell phone with them and you accuse him of ‘' denying'' them their freedom and ‘'supervising them from afar.'' When you don't even know the origin of the word ‘'Magi'' or ‘'spinster''. When you write something like this: I am uncertain where these lepers came from initially.

No. Even references to Merlin, Macbeth and Angela Carter won't be enough to save this. And if you don't like beech trees, dear ‘'writer'', leave them alone.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

Ι started writing this review, a day after I started reading Tim Parks book, because there were so many thoughts in my head, so many questions I didn't even know I had.

Why do some of us feel compelled to get through a book we hardly like, while others (like yours trully) give up once they realise that it is a waste of time?Why do we feel members of a greater community once we read a novel which is accompanied by world-wide success? And even feel guilty if we don't like it at all? How does our upbringing, or our family values influence our appreciation of this genre or that? Why do we tend to value foreign literature more than our own country's? Tim Parks tries to answer all these questions and many more.

There were moments when I lifted my eyes from the page to think on the issues examined in his essays. His language is simple, informative but not didactic. I had the feeling that I was participating in a discussion with a very eloquent and very friendly teacher, a colleague. Not to mention his excellent essay about the Nobels which convinced me as to the absurdity of having such a competition, in the first place.

There was, however, something that bothered me. Repetition. There is information that is mentioned so many times that it becomes tedious. E.g. the fact the he lives in Italy or that one book fair in France. Also, I found that the number of authors he focuses on is rather limited. We are forced to think of DeLillo, Roth, Faulkner, Borges, Hardy and Lawrence too many times, as if they are the epitome of Literature alone and nobody else. Well, no, they are not. This problem becomes much more obvious towards the end of the book.

Perhaps, this repetition is the trap that lays there for all teachers. We- and I'm speaking from personal experience, pleading guilty to the crime- tend to repeat things over and over again to help our students understand. Otherwise, you don't teach, you don't inform. You impose, you give a lecture that accomplishes nothing. So, I must conclude by saying that I wish I had a professor like Tim Parks in university.

She snapped open the lid. Inside was a whitish, squishy substance. I asked her what it was. ‘‘Brains,'' she replied. ‘‘Doll brains.'‘

Do you ever feel the urge to peep through a caramel-lit window during an evening stroll in the neighbourhood to catch a glimpse of your neighbours' lives? I certainly do. When I was a child, I used to create stories based on the flitting images I'd capture, blurry behind the curtains or through the open windows on a summer night. In any case, Hiromi Kawakami's neighbourhood is extremely different from all the neighbourhoods in the world.

At least, I hope so...

A boy that doesn't seem to grow over the years. A mysterious elderly lady who might just be a criminal instead of royalty. A gifted child who keeps his strange ‘‘office'' in the park. A girl collects doll brains. A middle-aged woman keeps a restaurant called The Love, which has a very special menu, a lonely karaoke, and hardly any customers. A juvenile delinquent becomes the pride of her hometown. A lottery decides the family that will provide refuge to the youngest child of a poor family. A grandpa has two shadows. A housing development consists of apartments where families of six reside. Six being the number of the Devil, of course. Two girls who live across the street from one another spend their lives in a deep hatred for each other, only to end up in misery.

A serious pandemic appears that turns people into pigeons, causing absolute havoc, and you can imagine the serious repercussions of a no-gravity alert. The story of a found baby teaches us about all the mysterious supernatural creatures of Japanese tradition. A new school named The House of Sweets is created, only to fall prey to the gluttony and greed of children. And no neighbourhood would be complete without shacks full of emotions.

These are only a few of the neighbourhood's strange, eerie, satirical but extremely thought-provoking events in a marvellously ingenious book by one of the best writers of our times.

''Eat all the bugs we want! Make all the babies we can!'‘

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

‘'Gare de Lyon - exit left - pale neon lights. Jeanne stares at the tropical garden caged by glass walls. Dark, mordant greens; droplets of water on the branches, leaves that are upright and brooding, bushy or flat like the cars of small, agile boats; glistening stamens, grey earth. Real plants mingle with plastic facsimiles, but the brief halt at the station and the reflections in the glass make it impossible to distinguish the real from the fake.''

Next stop in the Women In Translation month journey: a very particular and difficult to summarize novel about a young woman whose quest leads her to hotels, special low-quality shops and dark corners of the Internet, searching for the next ‘'object'' to add in the collection. The readers walk with her in the streets of Paris and enter rooms where desires unfold. But what happens when these ‘'desires'' are aimless, without clarity and fulfillment?

‘'Jeanne'' is a mysterious character. Leger doesn't reveal her true name or occupation. We know nothing of her past, her education, her family. All we learn is her obsession, her endless search for something that may not exist, her inability to recognize any purpose in life except for a faceless, meaningless intimacy with men. Leger's prose is fascinating. The depiction of the Parisian setting is powerful in its antithesis with ‘'Jeanne's ‘' mentality. In a city that is lively, full of light and motion, ‘'Jeanne'' moves like a harmless succubus, watching, choosing her companion of the moment. Men who view her as a vessel and others who want to know her better, impressed by her ‘'talent''. It makes no difference to her because ‘'Jeanne'' is sick. There is no word to sugarcoat her choices. And yet, Leger keeps the readers at a distance and at the same time, our attention is undiminished. How far will this woman go? When is this way of life going to turn against her?

She doesn't justify her actions -why should she, anyway? - and moves on from hotel to hotel, from man to man, from defiance to determination, to disappointment. Is she the victim or the perpetrator of her unhappiness? Because she is deeply unhappy and problematic. Does she derive even the slightest form of fulfillment? These are questions that may have no answers within the pages. The writer lets us draw our own conclusions.

Connecting with ‘'Jeanne'' may be difficult. Not all novels ask us to form a bond with the characters. However, the way in which Leger has woven a story with a rather uneventful plot and a theme that won't appeal to many of us is masterful. She has taken simple ingredients to create a unique form of Literary Fiction and the result is striking.

Beautiful, raw, melancholic translation by Laura Francis.

‘'Uniform sky, a dove-grey canvas stretched between the tower blocks; cars roll in an unbroken line across the horizon; at regular intervals, the varnished brown of some streetlight interrupts the alignment of trees; cops glide by on bicycles, eyeing up the wedding bouquets: banal geometry which Jeanne matches with her steps, her breathing and her thoughts.''

Many thanks to Granta Books and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'I hold nothing dear. Not the place where I live, not the door I pass through every day, not even, damn it, my life.''

In the beautiful, mysterious world of colours white retains an exceptional position. White is purity, light, clarity, sanctity, fragility. White is the symbol of the union between two people and the colour of mourning in East Asian culture. In Greece, white is the colour of purity and the sun. The houses in our islands are white-washed to reflect its rays. In China, white is worn in funerals to symbolise gratitude and in Korea, it symbolizes the clarity of the passage to a less troubling world. In Peru, white is associated with good health and prosperity. In the Balkan countries, white is associated with snow, light and the wisdom of the human race. White is the colour of peace seen in the White Flag of truce and ceasefire, the hope for the end of violence in its most terrible form, the war. White is the colour of the angels and the colour of ghosts. In Han Kang's shuttering account, white is despair and hope, pain and winter. It is an elegy for a life taken too soon and a chance that was never granted.

‘'Snow had begun to scatter down. Outside, the alley had darkened, the street lights were not yet on. Paint tin in one hand, brush in the other, I stood unmoving, a dumb witness to the snowflakes' slow descent, like hundreds of feathers feathering down.''

The beauty of the snowflakes, the mystery of the fog. The white of our bones, these God-given miracles that construct our very being, so strong and yet so fragile. The white of a mother's milk, the very essence that keeps us alive when we need it most. The moon with its white light that keeps us company during the long nights when our thoughts keep us awake and our fears acquire substance. When the face of the Man on the moon gazes at us kindly, with sympathy because he knows. The white nights in summer that protect us from the darkness. The secrets of the mysterious colour compose a haunting elegy to a stillborn sister. A symphony written in Warsaw with echoes of Seoul, beautiful cities where winter freezes everything and paints in white and grey, the colours of the ashes...

One of the most haunting, beautiful, raw books that will ever grace our world...

‘'In this city of severe winters, a December night unspools itself around her. The darkness outside the window has no moon to soften it. In the small workshop to the rear of the building, presumably as a security measure, a dozen electric lights are left on all through the night. She looks at the patches of illumination, scattered and isolated amid the black.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

  ‘'That morning David played her soft hymns he'd learnt as a boy, praising God. He sang holy songs for her, songs which brought tears to his eyes, and there they stayed, on this second meeting, a small patch of sea apart, watching each other - a young, wet-eyed Black Conch fisherman with an old guitar, and a mermaid who'd arrived on the currents from Cuban waters, where once they talked of her by the name of Aycayia.''
An ancient mermaid is captured by greedy white men. She was a woman, once, but she was cursed to become a creature of the sea because of her beauty. Cursed by women, threatened and abused by men. But a young fisherman, kind-hearted and wise, rescues her and she joins the mortal world once again. However, the ‘'modern'' society is not modern at all, and there are forces that never change, no matter the centuries that separate the generations.
One of the most beautiful and moving stories you'll ever read welcomes you with open arms.
‘'My lungs fill up with waterbut I know the sea better than Yankee menWoman put me in the seaCall for huracanNow man want to take me outI feel fresh painnext man pulling on the lineThe hook in my throatI want to go down to die.''
Roffey sets her hypnotic, haunting story during the 70s, the era of changes. But ‘change'' is a rather ambiguous word and ‘'change'' often becomes the smoke-screen and excuse for profit at all costs. In her beautiful novel, Roffey pays homage to the traditions of the Caribbean, the myths of the relationship between mortal men and mermaids and comments on themes that are highly relevant to our troubled times. Race, sexuality, migration, violence, ruthless profit. How the white race takes and takes and takes. How women can be cruel and dangerous when jealousy and pure malice take over their souls. Instead of standing together, they become the worst threat. Men and women violate bodies and souls. This is the reality Aycayia has to face.
‘'The bald earth drank up all the rain. The tough white grass turned green. Mornings were cool and hazy. Mist clung to the tops of the mountains, where the temperature was cool. Large, matronly macajuel snakes, heavy with eggs, unfurled themselves and travelled slow slow through the dense rainforest, seeking the crystal water that gathered in pods in the crevises roots of trees.''
Through the songs and hymns and the lullaby of the sea, through Aycayia's laments (brilliantly presented as long fry-style poems/ folk songs), through the wild laughter of the women of the past and the deep pond between Aycayia and David and the kindness of Arcadia, Life and Reggie, inspired by Neruda's The Mermaid and the Drunks, echoing Marquez's works, Monique Roffey creates a story that we should cherish. A journey to a captivating natural environment, the depths of the human soul and the way we mercilessly destroy our world.
‘'I knew that ghosts came onto the land from the sea. You could feel them out there. I sat and wondered just what kinda men get murder here in this bay and for what reason? White men arrive from far away and then sail back to where they came from. I always figure is feelings of being insecure that make someone want to take from others. The white men who came here were full of jumbie spirit, always restless. Ghosts came into the bay, ghosts of white men, and red men and black men like me, and these ghosts came like a current bringing unease and nervousness. Is only my humble opinion. But this is what white men bring here to the Caribbean: trouble. Then and now, they always looking, then taking something.''
My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/
 

  ‘'Little lady, little lady'', said the boys, ‘'little Alexandra,listen to the watch, tick tick tick: mother in the room alldecked in gold.''
When Life is anything but a fairytale, Folklore is there to help you escape. This outstanding collection created by the inimitable Angela Carter is THE volume to grace every reader's bookcase. A plethora of tales from every corner of our world centred around female protagonists that represent all the beautiful and evil aspects of the human soul. Brave women, resourceful girls, virtuous maidens, witches, troubled matriarchs, strong minds and cunning tricks, women delving into black arts, mothers, wives, daughters, morality tales and cautionary myths. 
My absolute favourites in this be - all and end - all volume for every fairytale aficionado are:
The Search for Luck (Greek) Mr Fox (English) Kakuarshuk (Innuit) The Promise (Burmese) Blubber Boy (Innuit) Vasilisa the Priest's Daughter (Russian) The Three Measures of Salt (Greek) Now I Should Laugh, If IWere Not Dead (Icelandic) The Old Woman Who Lived in a Vinegar Bottle (English) Tom Tit Tot (English) East O'The Sun and West O'The Moon (Norwegian) The Armless Maiden (Russian) The Girl Who Banoshed Seven Youths (Moroccan) The Woman Who Married Her Son's Wife (Innuit) The Juniper Tree (German) Nourie Hadig (Armenian) Nature's Ways (Armenian) The Twelve Wild Ducks (Norwegian) Vasilissa the Fair (Russian) Diirawic and Her Incestuous Brother (Sudan: Dinka)
My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/



 

''Snow continues to whirl through the sky, the windowpanes rattle and creak, but still those damned partridges and turtledoves proliferate. Passerby must be tossing coins to this bawling nuisance; better they should throw stones.''

The Crimson Petal and the White is a novel that has acquired a modern classic status. Faber depicted the hypocrisy of the London upper class, the misery of the children and the women who were left destitute and unprotected, the dark side of a metropolis through the eyes of one of the most fascinating heroines to ever grace the pages of a book. Sugar.

Faber writes like a contemporary Dickens, freed from censorship, and strikes at the very heart of the story. However, The Crimson Petal and the White was one of the first novels that made me turn the book upside down in a serious moment of denial of the ending. The Apple is a collection of stories with the POVs of the characters that led us in the dark underbelly of London. Be warned, though. you won't find the answers you may be looking for but you will find yourselves in the world of Sugar and enjoy the superb writing style of Faber once more.

Christmas in Silver Street: It's Christmas Day and Sugar is walking London's streets, observing and purchasing. Young Christopher has never understood what Christmas is all about and our favourite night butterfly is wondering on the ‘‘modern'' Christmas customs that are slowly taking over London. Michel Fabel makes everything feel like Christmas, even in the middle of August.

Clara and the Rat Man: Clara...This story is twisted and violent but also terribly sad. The underground London, the prostitution, the dog fights and the traumas of the returning soldiers.

Chocolate Hearts From the New World: Dr. Curlew's determined daughter is fighting to convince the landlords in the USA to abolish slavery. It doesn't hurt to find a love match in the process.

The Fly, and Its Effects Upon Mr Bodley: A ridiculous man experiences an existential crisis prompted by an equally ridiculous incident. Faber exposes the stupidity of the men who seek pleasure in a brothel in all its despicable pseudo-philosophy.

The Apple: Sugar contemplates on the nature of the novels of the time, dreams of writing her own version of the modern woman of the late 19th century and tries to defend an innocent child. Obviously, the story takes place before the events of the novel.

Medicine: William Rackham reminisces over his relationship with Sugar 15 years after the events of the novel. He still fails to see how much of a scum he actually is.

A Mighty Horde of Women In Very Big Hats, Advancing: Small wonder that the sole boring story in the collection has Sophie and her son as its main characters...

Two things you need to know, in my opinion. Firstly, it is highly advisable to have read The Crimson Petal and the White prior to reading this collection and secondly, you definitely don't want to miss this if you are a Faber admirer.

''It is almost time to open your eyes; the twenty- first century is waiting for you, and you've been among prostitutes and strange children for too long.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

''But more curious than this was what they saw next: a huge heron, the colour of rain, suddenly emerging from the flood in a fast, steep flight, leaving not even a ripple on the water beneath it. With a languid flap on its wings it came to rest in the crown of the oak, standing over the unlucky farmer, as if on a guard.''

Somewhere in the wilderness, a woman lives alone on a farm next to oppressive neighbours. Years later, another woman lives in a cave, finding help from a father and his young son. Until the day a squad of young troops comes, led by a young woman who has set off to find a wonder. The great heron that can give birth to rain or make it disappear. As we move back and forth in time, we witness the ordeal of the characters within an unforgiving nature. Within their own troubled selves.

''Frozen, palled days, drained of hope, stacked one upon one another.''


Arnott has no mercy for the reader. In a story that is full of shocking moments of raw power on the verge of brutality, a devastating scene early on sets the pace and we understand that this is going to be a dark, dark journey. In the heart of a harsh landscape, haunted by the haunting nature and their choices, the lives of the farmer, the hermit, the young soldier unfold in perfect prose. The chasing of futile dreams, the hunt for the precious ink, the obsession with the heron. Each individual journey is an Odyssey to control the non-human, to bend it to our will. Each character is a tapestry of fear and vices and ambitions. All controversial to the bone, all fascinating. I was particularly intrigued and impressed by the Northerner and Alec, two crucial figures in Zoe's story.

''How does it feel to be followed?''

We gradually realize that the world has changed. A coup has taken place and although its traces are evident even within the natural environment, Arnott doesn't focus on it at all. The central theme of this extraordinary novel lies elsewhere, in my opinion. We desire to control Nature as we control politics, nations. As we THINK we can control Fate. But we are deeply mistaken. We can't control anything. We can't even control ourselves...

Who is Ren? What has happened to her? What does Zoe really want? Who is evil, who is righteous? What is the boundary between the instinct of survival, duty and blind violence?

Written like a dark fairy tale, a haunted forest where death has made its home, and with an elegant, careful touch of Magical Realism, The Rain Heron is one of the best, most original novels of the year.

''Ravens called from the trees, deep rasps, long and loud. Ren watched them hope, black patterns in the branches. Pine needles carpeted the ground beneath them, giving way in small glades to grass, stones, fallen branches, thick moss. The light was weak, interrupted everywhere by the trees and their shadows.''

Many thanks to Atlantic Books and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

An interesting Historical Fiction novel that focuses on family drama and the sins of the past. I didn't enjoy this one as much as The Familiars or The Foundling and the melodramatic finale was a bit simplistic for my taste, but a Stacey Halls novel will always find a place on my bookshelves.

''People tossed all sorts into the river, including themselves.''

London, 1754. Bess is one of the unfortunate mothers who have to leave their children in the Foundling Hospital, with the desperate hope that she will return to claim her. And indeed, six years later she comes back, true to her word. But her daughter isn't there. Someone else has claimed her as her own. Bess starts a quest that will lead her in the circles of the metropolis upper class, exposing the hypocrisy, while the lower classes struggle to earn the daily bread.

If you had any doubts as to whether The Foundling was as good as The Familiars, rest assured. Stacey Halls's second novel is equally exciting, poignant and very, very different. She creates a story dedicated to motherhood, womanhood and the undying devotion of a mother towards her child. Two women who lost their mother at an early age try to come to terms with what it means to care for a child. One is a natural, the other fails miserably. One woman gives unconditionally, the other offers money but no tenderness.

There are so many themes intertwined in the story of Bess and Alexandra. Halls chooses to place the action in the 18th century, but both women can be characterized as ‘‘modern'', without being unrealistic. They rule their fate, they choose to lead their lived by their choices, and although they are aided or hindered by men, the course of the action is decided by them. Even though their backgrounds are opposite, they are both independent. It is also interesting that Halls decides to depict Bess's warm relationship with her father, so there is complete balance in the depiction of the role of the two sexes.

The two women at the opposite ends of the spectrum not only financially but also psychologically. Bess is pragmatic, sensitive, level-headed, honest and determined. I loved her and I do wish she had been the sole focus of the novel. I did not like Alexandra at all, I couldn't understand her, I couldn't accept or respect her views. She is deeply troubled and represents the epitome of the hypocritical upper class. She is incapable of any trace of tenderness towards a child, to the point of being cruel. She lives in the past but there is no excuse for her tyranny. Doctor Mead and Lyle are great characters and I really loved them.

''Like the Thames tide the city had a temperament, and it could give or take.''

I've often said that London is a character and this novel is no exception. Georgian London is not very different from its Victorian version. The smells, the sounds of the market, the gardens, the promenades of the high society and the derelict houses of the less fortunate. Every inch of the city comes alive, providing the noisy setting of a very humane story.
The subject matter could have easily become a frightful melodrama but not here. Not when a novel is written by one of the best writers of today's Historical Fiction. A hymn to the bond between mothers and daughters and to staying true to yourself, fighting for what belongs to you.

''You gentry morts have no clue. You sit in your drawing rooms and bury your heads in your cushions, cause prison don't happen to the likes of you. You read about in the papers, but it's just a story to you. An idea. I can tell you what it's really like.''

Many thanks to MIRA and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

  ‘'I'm told there is a mermaid in the millpond.
Not the sort of mermaid that sits on a rock, combing her pretty hair and singing to the moon. No, this mermaid is a monster - half-human, half-fish.
I'm told she has teeth like a pike and hands like a frog. And long webbed fingers that reach out of the water to catch animals that drink from the millpond at night.''
Two orphan young girls have found themselves in a rural cotton mill, working day-in-day-out in inhuman conditions. Bess would never believe that London would seem like Heaven compared to the dirt, the misery, the violence of the mill. Bess and Dot are just two of the dozens of children who try to earn their living while monsters in human form take a delight in torturing their souls.
‘'I am going to be as hard as nails. As tough as old boots.''
Monsters...Such a subjective word, is it not? We tend to use the word to refer to otherwordly creatures, but the real monsters are found amongst us all. They have a human face, and they speak in ‘'human'' tongues and they are full of hatred for children.
Because children can see right through them. There are ample examples around us. Teachers. Parents.
There is a pond near the mill. Another ‘'monster'' lives there. A mermaid. A creature trapped by human errors. Bess and the mermaid are two sides of the same coin and one must help the other in order to survive.
When you believe that your kindness is the reason your mother died, what kind of future lies ahead? How can a young heart survive it? How can it not turn to stone? It takes a friend to show you that condemning yourself to despair is never the solution. Two girls can change everything. When you have the will and the inner strength to walk away from the ones who hurt you, when you are brave enough to stand up to those who bully you and hurt you, then everything is possible. 
Luch Strange has created a story of Dickensian quality and the unassuming, clear and raw language of our times. A wonderful tale for children and adults alike. A call not to despair but to believe.
Beautifully illustrated by Pam Smy.
‘'Her clothes spread wide and, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up...but long it could not be till that hergarments, heavy with their drink, pull'dthe poor wretch...to muddy death...''Hamlet, Act 4, Scene 7
Many thanks to Barrington Stoke and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/
 

”Don't worry, this house is safe from ‘demonic forces'.
Except the ones you already left in.”

A dangerous seance goes horribly wrong. A girl carries out a tricky mission of revenge and retribution. A young member of a coven in Salem tries to become accepted and resurrect her lover in a story with a unique feeling, whimsical, gothic, haunting. A tender boy, quiet and kind-hearted, is fascinated by the peculiar behaviour of a strange classmate with an unnervingly special family. A girl without a shadow tries to face a world suspicious and enticing.

A woman suffering tremendous personal trauma is in need of new skin. A heavily wounded man struggles under the psychological abuse of his mother-in-law (well, aren't we all...?) A dollmaker creates comforting likenesses of the beloved deceased. An Angel of Death finds prey in a bar.

Dark stories (some of them will be really hard to stomach) where the supernatural meets the REAL terror of physical and emotional pain. A few of the stories may seem too confusing, disjointed, lacking a clear direction, but others are simply literary gems.

Definitely difficult, undeniably unique.

Many thanks to Serpent's Tail and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

  ‘'Come, sit beside me, Walter, and let us talk of love.''
The Betrothed of Destiny (Armenia): The people of Armenia know how to fight for their independence against barbarians. In this tale, a princess uses her brain and many swords to see justice delivered. Pay attention to the final sentence. It's the traditional way of ending a fairytale in beautiful Armenia. 
The Three Copecks (Russia): Three copecks and a cat bring fortune to an orphan boy and teach a lesson on honesty and humility.
The Disowned Princess (China): A truly majestic tale of a wronged princess, a brave traveller, palaces, songs and malicious suitors.
The Legend of Kae's Theft of the Whale (Aotearoa - New Zealand): The tale of a feud, the punishment of an old magician, and cunning traps to trap your enemy.
The Fisherman and the Draug (Norway): In a land haunted by dark spirits, a family pays a terrible price for wanting a better boat. A tragic tale about a very particular demon, set in Norway.
Origin of the Narwhal (Innuit Nunangat): The bitter tale of a blind boy and a kind girl who faced the unthinkable cruelty of their mother.
Kahalaopuna, Princess of Manoa (Hawai'i): The tragic story of a beautiful princess who was vilified and slandered by worthless men and a cruel betrothed who wanted revenge at all costs.
The Mermaid's Vengeance (Cornwall): The evil ambitions and depravity of two men cause the downfall of an innocent family. But the children of the sea are ever-watchful and vengeance will come in the darkest tale of the collection.
The Merman (Iceland): When honesty is rewarded by an enigmatic merman.
The Old Man Who Became a Fish (Korea): An official's father becomes a skate to escape the ills of old age.
Tom Moore and the Seal Woman (Ireland): An Irish version of the Selkie legend.
The Fisherman and His Wife (Germany): A well-known tale of greed and wishes that teaches us to think before we ask.
Thunder and Anansi (Ghana): When a selfish man neglects his family to serve his own greed, Nature decides to teach him a valuable lesson.
Benito, the Faithful Servant (The Philippines): A lad is rewarded for his honesty, bravery and kindness in a charming version of a famous tale.
The Black Pearl (Bahrain): Aided by celestial powers, a pearl-diver sets off to find the twin of a beautiful black pearl.
The Story of Urashima Taro, the Fisher Lad (Japan): A kind fisherman earns an extraordinary journey and the hand of the Sea King's daughter. But curiosity is a treacherous company...
Mesmerizing, haunting illustrations by Maggie Chiang.
‘'Come away, come away,O'er the waters wild!Our earth-born childDied this day, died this day.‘'Come away, come away!The tempest loudWeaves the shroudFor him who did betray.‘Come away, come away!Beneath the waveLieth the graveOf him we slay, him we slay.‘'Come away, come away!He shall not restIn earth's own breastFor many a day, many a day.‘Come away, come away!By billows toFrom coast to coast,Like deserted boatHis corpse shall floatAround the bay, around the bay.''
My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/
 

I believe that we should never stop narrating the so-called ‘'classic'' fairy tales of our childhood. Yes, for many (including me) Cinderella and the rest of the squad may seem outdated but it's the way you tell a story and how you explain its message that matters. If parents have neither the time nor the inclination to do that, then even the finest, fiercest tale is wasted. However, times call for discovery and reimagining, icons and roles aren't firmly established anymore. Thank God for that. Now, there is an abundance of collections aiming to a younger audience, dedicated to lesser-known heroines from all over the world that prove we can't just wait for the prince that was promised. So, let us take fate into our hands. This is the most important message we need to pass to the younger generations. Fairy Tales for Fearless Girls succeeds in that field. Diverse heroines, from every corner of the world, intelligent, determined and wise.

But we should also repeat the word ‘'respect'' until our tongue stiffens. Respect is something our world lacks today and respect is absent from the Introduction of the collection. It is written as if a petulant, spoiled child decided to write a school essay full of Internet memes. Being independent, daring and feisty doesn't equal being rude. Another problem was the writing or retelling itself. I know that middle - grade children are the target group of the collection but I don't think that simplifying the language is beneficial. Children are intelligent (unlike us adults) and when we try to converse with them as if they were babies, they realize it and, trust me, they don't like it at all.

These are the tales included.

The Tale of Brave Bradamante and Her Amazing Flying Horse: Bradamante is the bravest knight of the kingdom. No one can defeat her and she falls in love with a worthy knight. However, she has to fight against evil forces that threaten her and her beloved. A tale of a fearless girl from France.

Atalanta The Fleet-Footed Huntress: I believe the Greek myth of Atalanta is well known to most of us. The princess, who was abandoned in the woods to die, was raised by a bear and became an unbeatable huntress and runner, defeated a wild boar and became a legend.

Nana Miriam and the Horrible Hippopotamus: A strong girl wants to save her village from a dangerous hippo. A tale from West Africa.

The Amazing Adventures of Tokoyo: A young woman wants to visit her father, an exiled Samurai. What Tokoyo doesn't know is that she will need to face a monster that enjoys eating young maidens. A tale from Japan.

How Little Molly Whuppie Outwitted the Giant: Molly and her two sisters are left in the woods by their parents. Their hunger leads them in front of a giant's house and Molly's adventures begin. A tale from England.

How Mizilca Tricked a Sultan and Saved Her Father from Disgrace: Mizilca shows that intelligence and bravery walk hand-in-hand and neither sultans nor dragons are a match for a girl who is clever and ready to stand her ground. A tale from Romania.

Tatterhood and Dacia: A lovely Norwegian tale of twin girls who were very different but equally brave and loyal to each other. Tatterhood is an icon.

Princess Imani and the Magic Fan: A boring, repetitive, unoriginal tale from India.

Maada and the Mountain Dweller: Maada and her little sister run away from suitors and an oppressive mother. They face challenges and meet an impressive young man. And Maada shows what it means to refuse to change to what is ‘'proper'' and ‘'acceptable''. A tale of the Haida people from Canada.

Sumac and the Search for the Magic Lake: A girl's kindness, intelligence and perseverance lead her to a lake with the ability to heal. A beautiful tale of the Incas.

Feng Mian, the Head of the Family: This one troubled me. It is a combination of two well known Japanese tales, the creation of the lantern and the fan, and the mind games between a young bride and an elder of the community. Although these are slightly different versions, Ganeri places both in China and to my knowledge, this is not correct. This inaccuracy was jarring to me but otherwise, it is a beautiful story.

Unanana and the Elephant: A widow fights an elephant to save her children and helps an entire village in the process. An unusual, fascinating Zulu tale from South Africa.

The Warrior Queen and the Wizard: Hello there, beloved Maria Morevna! Her wit and kind nature defeat Koschei the Deathless and Baba Yaga and rescue her beloved Ivan. This is only one version of the story. The problem with this one was the inaccuracy of the illustrations. This is a Medieval legend and yet, Maria and Ivan are dressed in early 20th century clothes. Then, Maria is seen in traditional dresses. Are we aiming to educate children or to confuse them with mistakes?

Fallon, the Girl from the Northland: Fallon refuses to get married to a man chosen by her mother. She doesn't bow to ambitions and uses her strength to forge her own future. This story can be found in certain versions of the epic Kalevala and I cannot stomach the use of the word ‘'okay''.

The Princess, the Merchants, and the Very Unusual Cupboard: Amina won't accept any merchant who wishes to wed her and use her as a commodity. A beautiful, funny tale from Sudan.

The illustrations by Khoa Le were beautiful and vivid.

Sadly, I am not fully satisfied with this collection. While I appreciated the presentation of the themes associated with the tales, the theme of the arranged marriage quickly became repetitive and I don't know why there was such an emphasis on such a detrimental subject that doesn't concern children anyway. However, I loved the message that kindness and intelligence always pay off, along with respecting Nature and its creatures. In my opinion, this needed a better writer and a more thorough research. Would I buy it for my future children? I would but I'd definitely modify its overly simplistic language. Repeat after me: children aren't idiots.

Many thanks to Arcturus Publishing Ltd and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

‘'The reeds stood tall and dead: I had the oddest feeling they wanted me gone. The light was failing. I caught a swampy smell of decay. Behind me something rustles and I saw the reeds part for some unseen creature. I thought: No wonder Maud's mad.''

Hold this beautiful book in your hands. Let your eyes feast on the haunting magpie and the blood-red stains. Concentrate on the images that will - no doubt- start flooding your mind. Εach and every thought that visits you becomes real once you start reading this novel. It is haunting and ruthless and its cover speaks more eloquently than any blurb. Wakenhyrst by Michelle Paver might be the best book of 2019. But be aware: it is not for the faint of heart but for the readers who embrace darkness...

‘'Those who make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.'' Voltaire

Our story begins with a stranger. 1967. A young art historian visits the daughter of Edmund Stearne, a scholar and painter, who has left a strange body of work behind him. Maud takes us back in time, in 1913. Through letters, articles, pages of diaries and our heroine's own thoughts, we find ourselves wandering in the fens, ‘'the forbidden realms of magical creatures'', in the darkness. A darkness that suffocates the members of the Stearne household, so thick and muddy and twisted that no moonlight can light our way. Enigmatic and terrifying like the woman in a long, black dress that appears on Edmund's paintings, secretive like Wakenhyrst and its residents. Suffocating like the sets of rules set by Edmund, a cruel and sadistic man. Or is he?

‘'I know what you did. It is only a picture. It won't do me any harm...a high thin cry on the fen...''

The sins of the past is a recurring motif in Gothic Fiction and here it is used to absolute perfection. The fullness of time has come and the house itself has become a character, the fens have paved the way for retribution. Maud becomes the hand, the one who wants to break free. Paver creates atmosphere in such a powerful way, creating a novel that would find its proper depiction as a Bosch masterpiece. Strange findings, dark omens. Traces of witchcraft, owls, moonlit nights that hide terrible secrets. Children are playing in the cemetery, knocking off the wings of angels. Will-o'-the-wisps and dark fairies. Ghosts. Foreboding thoughts that seem to call for Death. And Death is everywhere.

‘'One for the rook, one for the crow, one to rot and one to grow.''

In Edmund's mind, the Devil seems to have taken control over his life. Paver uses a perfect combination of literary and raw language to depict the havoc in the man's life. Jesus said that there are those who think they are righteous because they say ‘'yes'' to God. Edmund embodies the hypocrisy of the ones who pretend to be devoted when in fact they are worse than the very thing they fear. Art is also used as a symbol of knowledge and a constant reminder of the pagan past that Edmund hates. A depiction of the Doom brings disarray in the community and the discovery of a Green Man haunts Edmund. The hidden messages, the symbolisms, the soul of the artists form a menacing danse macabre and taunt him mercilessly. Paver uses the magpie as a symbol of obsession and temptation along with a multitude of the customs of the countryside that make the novel such a rich read.

The winter is bitter, frosty. Arctic winds are blowing. The haunting sound of the ice, breathing through another winter. In an atmosphere of mysticism, superstition and tradition, you will feel your heart pounding and breaking. You will experience the fear of looking at yourself in the mirror, the dread of looking out of the window in a stormy night. This reminded me of Sarah Perry's masterpiece Melmoth. The house seems to have acquired a life and a will of its own, becoming a nest for troubled spirits and confused human. And at the centre of everything that takes place we find Maud.

‘'The woman at the heart of each one is a witch. The creatures swarming around her are her evil familiars. And the witch is Maud.''

Maud is a woman who isn't interested in saints but in the demons and monsters that have been defeated. Who will narrate their stories? She twists every prejudice against women and throws them back at those who deem themselves superior. She is an outstanding character. Resilient, firm, wise and realistically shady. She is not afraid to punish those who think they are entitled to diminish her and is ruthless enough to fight for what is right. Her views on religion reflect certain thoughts that have crossed my mind over the years. Maud is one of those characters that are so vivid you can even ‘'hear'' their voice in your mind. You know how they speak, how they walk and behave, what they look like. She is the heart of this superb novel.

Read it, friends. That's all I can tell you...

‘'It is God who made me order the Doom to be torn down, thereby setting the demon loose. And now it is God who commands me to go into battle.''

Many thanks to Head of Zeus and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

‘'Murder under the mistletoe - and the man who must have done it couldn't have done it. That's my Christmas and I don't feel merry, thank you very much all the same.''

The Snapdragon and the C.I.D. by Margery Allingham: A Christmas murder, a crook, and the lost jewels of a formidable Lady. A very telling story of the suspicious links between the shady side of London and the aristocracy.

Let Nothing You Dismay by Ellis Peters:A young woman and a duo of burglars meet in the same house. Do not be fooled, though. The girl is there for the same reason as the crooks and she intends to stand her ground. So, a truce between professionals while the choir is spreading Christmas cheer? Maybe, maybe not...

The Lion's Tooth by Edmund Crispin: An amateur detective investigates the abduction of a girl from a nunnery. This one was a tiny bit confusing but interesting nonetheless.

Rumpole and the Spirit of Christmas by John Mortimer: A ridiculous feud between two families ends up in a serious assault. While the trial of a seventeen-year-old boy is underway, the battle between the prosecutor and the advocate reveals strange secrets and peculiar motives.

The Assassins' Club by Nickolas Blake: The Assassins' Club is reserved for the esteemed representatives of the Law and the crème de la crème of detective writers. But what happens when one of them - a vile, cruel writer - is found murdered during the Christmas dinner? This one had so much potential but fell rather short in the end. Disappointing. I expected more from Cecil Day-Lewis. (I assume that you know that ‘'Nickolas Blake'' was a pseudonym...)

The Ascham by Michael Innes: Lord and Lady Appleby are forced to find shelter in a manor when their car breaks down. There, along with other guests, they find themselves in the middle of a rather elaborate fraud. A good old British mystery.

A Scandal in Winter by Gillian Linscott: A brilliant teenage girl tries to solve a mystery in a luxurious hotel in Switzerland. A very interesting story, written with a healthy dose of elegant irony over the ridiculous indulgence and snobbery of the upper class. And I won't reveal the famous duo included. No, no.

‘'Eleven o'clock. The lights are out. The porter has just locked the door. I can hear his footsteps echoing down the corridor. They grow fainter. Now there is silence. I am alone.''

‘'Familiarity breeds contempt.''

Waxworks by Ethel Lina White: Sonia, a promising young journalist, decides to investigate two suspicious deaths that took place in the Waxworks Museum. How? By spending one of the last days of the year there. All alone. In my opinion, this is the finest, most memorable (and heart-pounding) story in the collection.

Twixt the Cup and the Lip by Julian Symons: A very entertaining story seen from the eyes of the perpetrator and a painstakingly planned robbery that goes...Well, you can imagine...

Nebuchadnezzar by Dorothy L.Sayers: The death of a beloved young woman haunts the festive company of actors and artists. An imaginative game of charades provides the chance for the truth to be revealed.

Ten brilliant stories that reflect the true spirit of the British Mystery genre.

‘'Eight o'clock. The Christmas bells are ringing and it is wonderful just to be alive.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

  ‘'The fields were edged with hawthorn, bare of leaves yet still throwing thorny sprays up to the blue December sky. The haw berries were flat crimson like the dead blood of the year, but the rosehips were a sign of hope, little lamps shining from the hedgerows. A fat robin watched from a fence post, its eye bright with curiosity, and in a thicket of oak, the glossy leaves of the holly gleamed like a secret. When the frost was hard, we slipped and slid across the frozen brown ruts left by the plough and the whole world glittered crazily, buzzards crying overhead. Sometimes the mist hung low, and we walked in silence across the fields, listening to the dripping of the trees, the muffled sound of horse hooves from the lane. Ahead of me, girls rising out of mist like wraiths, then disappearing.''
A girl is running in the moors, under the lowering sky, her hair loose like dark water in the wind. She appears through the fog, a solitary spectre full of the ruggedness of the Yorkshire moors. A ghost girl filled with endless love for her land, her perfect place on Earth.
‘'Sometimes a place imprisons your mind, your spirit, and there is no telling why.''
This girl will not be dissuaded by those who love to narrate their cautionary tales to alter her nature. You could not blame a beast for following its own nature'', she replies as she finds solace in the isolation of the moors, the mystery of the fig, the tender silence of the graveyard as she wanders among the tombstones. The frost at her window is her calmness. Are these fingers tapping? Begging to be let in?
‘'How strange we must seem to God, looking down on us. The earth He gave us stretches in all directions, is full of riches, yet all we do is run around in the same little circles, like poor little mice scratching an existence.''
Emily cannot be cooped up between two walls. She wants to feel the wind on her face, to meet the drifters of the moors, people at the periphery of society. Men like her immortal creation. Heathcliff. The hypocrisy of the affluent, especially against young women who are despised by members of their own sex is repulsive. The fate of a breeding mare who submits to her husband is worse than death. She won't speak unless she has to. Empty talks are not for her. Hers is the gift to create dark wonders. 
‘'I have a mind of my own, am not some puppet for you to play with.''‘'I am here.''
Karen Powell creates an ode to the greatest mind in World Literature As Haworth comes alive in front of our eyes, so is Emily's personality unfolded to almost frightening perfection. Her Emily is my Emily. Her Emily is THE Emily to those of us who cannot describe our adoration for her and her masterpiece in plain words. Using the images of windows, candles, branches, abandoned estates, and the haunting presence of a mysterious man who keeps crossing Emily's path, Powell foreshadows the birth of the greatest novel ever written. Wuthering Heights. The Sinister Bible of Literature.
‘'I've always believed that Satan must have set out to be a good angel but could not help himself. It was not in his nature. I want my hero to be just as bad as compelling. If he cannot have what he wants, then the whole world must pay for his suffering, his pain.''
Do you know what Karen Powell's greatest gift is? Yes, she writes in an extraordinarily visceral and lyrical manner. She communicates the character and feelings of the Bronte family to perfection. She paints the Yorkshire land with words to invite us into Emily's world. However, no writer has ever managed to describe Emily's feelings for the creation of Heathcliff with the kind of accuracy and directness that make you believe she has held a seance to converse with the spirit of Emily. In our days, the ones who speak ill of him and Wuthering Heights, who deem him as ‘toxic' - because this is a fashionable word and they know no other- are mainly women serving a political leftist agenda. Unaware of the term ‘anti-hero'. Unaware of how to differentiate between the males they read in one of their sex-crazed romances and thrillers (soon to be turned into a MAJOR MOTION PICTURE...) and two people who loved each other not wisely but too well. The ones whose...sensitivity a.k.a. illiterate and brainless existence need trigger warnings to even read the newspaper. Well, guess what? You'll always be the mindless minority. 
This wild, uncompromising woman, this wraith of the moors wrote ONE book. One! And gained immortality by creating THE most beautiful, dark, perplexing, complex, shattering novel in the History of Literature. What exactly have YOU done with your life?
Those who deny her power are advised to leave the marches, have a shower and try to at least finish primary school.
The best novel written about the best writer who ever graced the Earth.
‘'It is late. Hours since Papa would have locked the front door for the night. But look, there is the glow of a candle upstairs, coming from my bedroom window.''
My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/




 

‘'In 21 cases there was death but no burial; in 10, funerals but no burials; in 8, funerals but no death.''

Dolls never found a top spot in my favourite toys list. My mum didn't like them at all but my grandma was a collector and tried her best to convince me to love them. I just couldn't. Their cold faces frightened me and the feeling that their unblinking eyes were watching me was horrible. The discomfort and fear of those moments returned while I was reading Nina Allan's The Dollmaker.

...This book is one of the most darkly powerful novels I've read this year...

A talented dollmaker starts corresponding with a woman who adores dolls. He decides that the time to meet her has come. However, the obstacles are many. He is a dwarf. She is a resident in a psychiatric hospital. The stories of their lives are interrupted by Ewa Chaplin, a Polish Jew writer that fled to London after Hitler's rise to power. Hers are the extraordinary tales that make The Dollmaker such a unique read.

This is a beautiful novel. Unbearably beautiful and haunting, dark and twisted. The symbolism of the Doll is powerful as the simulation of a life devoid of instincts and feelings. The role of the Dollmaker as an insufficient god who has the ability to create copies of living human beings but is unable to provide them with life. There is no breath, no beating heart. The Dollmaker is not God. However, this facade is his only refuge form a life full of denial and abuse. For Bramber, dolls are cold-hearted saviours from a strange darkness.

The writer manages to create the perfect combination from Andrew's thoughts, Bramber's letters, and Chaplin's stories. Injustice, isolation, harassment. Love, fear, loss form a tale embroidered on a dark canvas born out of Allan's imagination and exquisite use of symbols, immortal moments of Art and our primordial need for stories that would exorcise all evils.

Confident writing, exquisite prose, and successful dialogues are faithful companions on a journey that takes us to the mysterious Bodmin Moor, to Whitby and London. To Austria, Poland, Germany, Russia. We enter traditional pubs and haunted inns, quirky workshops, and theatre houses. Let yourselves by amazed by beautiful, vivid descriptions of places that come alive out of the pages. Contemplate on some of the greatest mysteries in the world of Art, Why didn't Desdemona tell the truth and save her life? What is is that ‘Las Meninas' by Diego Velázquez continues to impress us and raise questions? What is the possibility of actually living in a parallel world?

These are only a handful of the mysteries hidden in Ewa Chaplin's stories.

The Duchess: A famous young actress struggles to survive in a suffocating marriage. Fate introduces her to a mysterious beggar and an eerie portrait of a noblewoman and a dwarf. Her life becomes the backdrop for a Jacobean tragedy, possibly set in Austria, following the First World War. This story is a beautiful piece of Literature. How could it have been different when there are references to Shakespeare, Ibsen, Marlowe, Webster, Tolstoy, Velázquez, Sherlock Holmes in the same text?

Amber Furness: A story whose title says it all. A very dark, complex tale with a strange dwarf and a charismatic young woman as protagonists. Philosophy, gender commentary and the themes of premonition and the doppelganger compose one of the most powerful moments in the novel.

‘'In the version of her story her class loved best, all the fairies at the christening were qualities of attraction and magical powers. Sophia brought the gift of wisdom, Agatha granted the power of levitation and so on. Margaret kept a dragon trained to her side like a Rottweiler and promised the princess protection against demonic powers. Cecilia blessed her with the gift of music and divination.The bad fairy had no name, and she had been excluded from the celebrations because she was ugly and senile and the only gift she had to offer was her preternatural talent for talking with ghosts. No one wanted to be reminded that the infant princess would eventually grow old and go crazy. It was said that the royal family was rife with craziness, that the queen herself was already beginning to show the signs. The bad fairy was no really bad, Mila saw. She was just an unwelcome reminder of what was true.''

The Elephant Girl: A young teacher has to face the seemingly irrational fear caused by the presence of a strange - looking girl. Influenced by her third pregnancy and full of premonitions, she tries to find a refuge to fairy tales. This is another extraordinary story and my personal favourite.

Happenstance: The world of makeup artists isn't very different from the dollmaker's. Colours are used to create a ‘'better'' face, to form the ideal facade. A young woman, intrigued by the deformity of her aunt, wants to find a place in the theatre community. Makeup and murder are merged with the folklore of the Changeling and the result is one more phenomenally beautiful story with an impressive, even if a little unsatisfying, closure.

The Upstairs Window: A story that takes us into the hidden world of Art, the repercussions of our dubious choice, the uncertainty of a fickle, though intriguing, field. A beautiful journey in London and the cinema industry. Add traces of espionage and troubled relationships and you've got an exciting mixture.

Historical Fiction? Gothic Fiction? Literary? Magical Realism? Folklore? Mystery? Whatever your choice may be, this novel will become your beloved companion. The Dollmaker is one of the most powerful novels of the year.

‘'What choice did I have, though? I had travelled so far, so many miles heading westwards with her in my thoughts. She held my future in her hands without even realising.''

Many thanks to Quercus Books and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'But there are no secrets in London. Even the houses lean across the narrow alleys towards each other and offer up their scandals in the blink of an open curtain.''

A woman is trying to break the norms of an oppressive society whose chances are reserved exclusively for men. In an era when silk is considered equal to gold, Esther struggles to convince her husband of her talent as a pattern designer. Her kind nature leads her to Sara, a young woman trapped in a brothel, and to a complex network of deceit and exploitation. Welcome to London during the 18th century.

A stunning cover and a beautiful title. An adventurous era, a very interesting field of research. This is the background of a novel focused on the lives of two young women and the conspiracies of silk. The problem is that sometimes a book needs an interesting cast of characters in order to become something special and memorable. Unfortunately, I couldn't find it here. The atmosphere is excellent and beautifully depicted through balanced writing that is realistic and faithful to the era without becoming modernized or crude. The dialogue is equally satisfying, interesting and believable. The fascinating and sinister world of silk is at the heart of the novel and I believe it should have been explored more thoroughly. Esther's ambitions and talent along with the enterprise of the glorious material should have been given the first role. These should have been our protagonists instead of wasting our time with a character that had no redeeming, or even remotely interesting, qualities...

Esther is based on Anna Maria Garthwaite, the woman who brought painting to the loom, creating unique designs, as the writer informs us. Perfect! Why did we need to read the ‘'adventures'' of a mediocre character? Esther is a complex woman. In my opinion and according to my personal values, Sara is a disgusting figure. Her weird notion that she is somehow entitled to a life with plenty of money and little effort, the fact that she is a complete and utter fool, a treacherous creature who curses her bad luck and turns against the one who helps her did little to make me sympathize with her. As a result, her chapters were a chore. Compared to Esther's complexity and innate elegance, Sara seemed a shadow of a character. I did not care for the closure of her story, it was completely indifferent to me. Moll was even worse...In my opinion, the writer painted the female characters in extremely unfavourable colours by making use of every cliché imaginable... Not that the men were any better. Generally speaking, the characters won't enter any Literary pantheon anytime soon. Rather the opposite and this issue affected my overall impression significantly.

Also, ‘'Elizabeth Swann''? Seriously? I was expecting Jack Sparrow and Will Turner to appear...Which would have been great because these three are awesome. The characters in this novel...not so much...

In my opinion, Historical Fiction is a mighty difficult genre. You need the perfect ingredients to create a novel that will stand out. This book is (mostly) well-written but I don't think it is memorable or unique. Had the characters been better, I would have enjoyed it more. As it is, a 3-star rating is the most I can give.

Many thanks to Quercus and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

 18 beautiful folk tales from every corner of our planet, dedicated to the quiet silence and beauty of Winter. Outstanding illustrations by Zanna Goldhawk.

These are my favourite tales:

The White Bear King (Norway): A haunting version of East of the Sun and West of the Moon.

The Mitten (Ukraine):A cozy retelling of The Musicians of Bremen.

A Cloak for the Moon (Poland):A Jewish folktale about the beauty of the Moon and the serenity of Winter nights.

The Nutcracker (Germany): The quintessential winter tale.

The Poinsettia (Mexico): The moving legend of the girl who wanted to give a unique gift to Baby Jesus.

Wee Robin Red Breast ( Scotland): A tale of tenderness dedicated to one of the symbols of Britain.

The Snow Maiden (Russia): One of the most beautiful and famous fairytale and the inspiration behind Eowyn Ivey's masterpiece The Snow Child.

The Apple Tree Man (England): A legend of Twelfth Night.

Sister and Brother (Siberia): Two children do everything in their power to save their mother.

The Mother of the Sea (Greenland): A tale of environmental cautionand the need to protect God's creation.

The Snow Queen (Denmark) Hans Christian Andersen's masterpiece.

The Twelve Months (Greece): A fable that teaches us to appreciate every season and every month.

Brigitte and the Cailleach (Celtic tradition): One of the most famous Scottish/ Irish tales about the changing of the seasons and the beautiful marriage between Christianity and Celtic culture. 

‘'By the time the heatwave came to an end, nothing remained of the people but ash. They became fused into panes of glass: grey and opaque.''

Five people search the streets of Seoul for something to grasp at. An actress, an aspiring poet, a teacher, a director, a novelist from abroad. A group of individuals linked by a personal story of loneliness, unfulfillment and the fear of the unknown. But who are they? Why are they wandering in a city smothered by an absurd heatwave? There is no wind, no bird songs, no colours in the sky. A radio switches on and off by itself, blindness and haziness walk hand-in-hand with surreal dreams, apparitions, faces with scars and blood-stained clothes.

A day and a night in a loop where each character is merged into the other, events are seen as if from the window of a car driving in the night, the city lights coming alive and fading away. It is a dinner in a blackout restaurant, a visit to a gallery, the reading of a poem, the performance of an audio theatre. It is life depicted in black-and-white photographs, phone calls with no caller or recipient. It is a drop of sweat, a pianist in the park, a cry of fear in the face of the absolute void...

The Translator's Note by Deborah Smith is as beautiful and haunting as the novel itself. Her translation elevates the novel to an other realm.

‘'Don't go far away, even for just one day, becauseBecause... a day is long, andI will wait for you.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

  ‘'But the whole neighbourhood was still and silent, as if the dense clouds above had swallowed up all sound.''
Cream: A young man is invited to a piano recital by an old classmate. But when he arrives at his destination, he feels lost. He sees no one and there isn't the slightest hint of a venue in sight. All he finds is a strange old man and a peculiar lecture on the meaning of life...
‘'Lost in this incessant afternoon downpoura nameless axedecapitates the twilight.''
On a Stone Pillow: The narrator recounts a winter's night encounter with an enigmatic woman and the lasting impression of a mysterious poetry collection. This story is quietly beautiful and moving.
Charlie Parker Plays Bossa Nova: I am afraid I don't like Jazz or bossa nova, and I stopped reading this one after the fifth page. Other readers will surely find it interesting but what little I read bored me to tears.
‘'You go to the dark side of the moon and come back empty-handed.''
With the Beatles: On the other hand, I adored this story! With The Beatles' legacy as the perfect background, the narrator takes us on a brief walk down memory lane during the 60s, before he focuses on his first girlfriend and a strange discussion with her brother on an autumnal Sunday afternoon. There are so many layers in the story and so many themes for discussion.
Confessions of a Shinagawa Monkey: A traveller meets a monkey that cannot only talk but has an obsession with stealing women's names and identities. A story that veers toward Surrealism. Make of it what you will.
Carnaval: Forgive me but I am not interested in an endless rumbling on how an ‘'ugly'' woman can actually (!) appear ‘'attractive'' to a man. In my opinion, this story was dull, offensive and did not do any credit to Murakami's fame as a storyteller. And no references to Mozart or Schubert can salvage this misogynistic chaos. In fact, by this point, I began to feel rather underwhelmed by the entire collection.
The Yakult Swallows Poetry Collection: Oh, look! A ‘'story'' about (really) bad poetry and baseball. How interesting!
Not.
First Person Singular: A man wears a suit and goes to a bar. He meets a woman, a friend of a friend of a friend, who accuses him of a past transgression. Except, he cannot recall what he was supposed to have done and we are not told either...
The end.
Frightfully underwhelming, a collection that had its moments but never really soared to literary heights. I've read dozens of better - much better- collections this year by much less ‘'celebrated'' authors. Disappointed and irritated. 
My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/
 

‘'A house is family. A house is history. A house is a body. One subject that comes up again and again in horror, both new and classic, is houses. Haunted houses, home invasions, axe murderers lurking in the attics and chasing us into the basements. Our homes are a site of endless terror.We are afraid that someone will come into our house when we don't want them to. We are afraid that the thing we fear is already inside. We are afraid that we can't make it leave. We are afraid that the lock on the door will not hold.''

What is it about darkness that makes it easier for us to confess and entrust our deepest fears and thoughts to others and, let us not forget to ourselves? Surely many of us fear it but confession is easier when the lights are out. And what about that moment when a certain thought crosses our mind: our house seems a strange cage when the occasional power- cut takes place. Our house isn't recognizable anymore. It's just us within a semi-familiar darkness. What happens then?

'Such secrets you would need to swallow. Such masks you would need to wear.''‘

Kirsty Logan needs no introductions. In her new exquisite book, an author finds shelter in Iceland, and in the process of writing, uncovers thoughts and feelings relevant to the stories within the story in a brilliant framing device that elevates Things We Say In The Dark to the highest level of literary quality. The collection is divided into three parts that, to me, represent three of our greatest fears. The House, our shelter and, sometimes, our prison. The Child, where a strange, dark and very realistic depiction of motherhood permeates each story, and The Past, the most frightening of all our daily demons that keep us company.

Fear and uncertainty are two major themes. Both come from the way women have been treated and ‘'categorized'' throughout the ages, traps that we have yet to exterminate once and for all. Fear of what others may think of us. Fear of not following the norms imposed by each one of our societies, fear of being unable to be ourselves. Fear of being silenced. Fear of being raped and brutalized. Fear of disappearing under the pressure. Fear of not being able to find our steps in a world that lifts up signs of warnings and orders in every step of the way.

The entire volume is a work of Art, a Gospel of dark fairy tales that reveal an honest, surreal and oh, so real image of women's lives. It would be impossible to include every story here but allow me to refer to the ones who will haunt my mind forever.

‘'I made you house after house after house. But each time it was too small, too losable, too easily destroyed.''

Last One to Leave Please Turn Off the Lights: The fears of women who struggle to build a home to satisfy their partners, or their friends until the gold ashes of a pure soul turn a house into a golden cage.

‘'A woman always dressed in green, who wore strange jewellery, rings made of glass she found washed up on the beach. She had green eyes and long black hair - black as winter night, black like it was always wet.''

In Things My Wife and I Found Hidden in Our House, two women discover strange objects belonging to a suspected witch. This story reminded me of the vast Scottish tradition and mystical folklore.

‘'On late summer days Jay and Yara used to go exploring, eating blackberries straight from the bush, even though Mam said they were covered in fox piss. They'd stay out collecting berries so late that the sun went down and the light dropped blue and the owls swooped over their heads, making them run shrieking with laughter through the bramble-choked lanes.''

My House Is Out Where the Lights End is the epitome of rural mystery, the very definition of Folk Horror.

Sleep, you Black-Eyed Pig, Fall Into a Deep Pit of Ghosts is a sad, haunting story of night and love and everything breaking, set in a Finnish cabin.

Girls Are Always Hungry When all the Men Are Bite-Size: A story of facades, seances, lies and desire that starts in a strangely sensual tone and soon becomes a true manifestation of threat and punishment.

Birds Fell From the Sky and Each One Spoke in Your Voice: What can I possibly say about this one? A haunting family story, 90s nostalgia, inertia and the returning nightmares of a drama. A masterpiece.

We Can Make Something Grow Between the Mushrooms and the Snow: A couple tries to find the perfect home, but they cannot agree. The search for a house becomes a metaphor for the lack of communication, of understanding. Ultimately, for the lack of love.

Half Sick of Shadows: What seems to be an ordinary family's trip in a Medieval theme-park turns into an unimaginable plan with a shuttering closure.

The World's More Full of Weeping Than You Can Understand: In this outstanding story named after the gorgeous Stolen Child by William Butler Yeats, a mother and her daughter visit a seaside pier on a Saturday. The footnotes hide all the horrors. Sweet Jesus, this one is...I have never, EVER read anything like it. It is perfection in all its absolute glory.

Sleep Long, Sleep Tight, it is Best to Wake Up Late: What starts as a quirky dream questionnaire, is actually revealed to be a series of questions on night terrors and it becomes eerie and alarming. As someone who often suffers from this peculiar phenomenon, I had tears in my eyes upon finishing it.

Watch the Wall, My Darling, While the Gentlemen Go By: In my opinion, this story contains the heart of the themes in this collection. It is brilliant and excruciating and terrifying and very, very tangible. Just proceed with caution with this one because of various trigger warnings.

With Kirsty Logan, all you need is a paragraph. That's it. That's all you need to find your heart in pieces. That's all you need to understand what it means to find yourself in the hands of perfect writers. That's all you need to stare in awe page after page, sentence after sentence, realising and wondering how can someone dive into your soul and expose all. This is how Literature should be.

‘'The town unspools past the window. The red-roofed houses, all different heights, foundations subsiding, higgledy-piggledy like a mouth of uneven teeth. The spindly stretch of the pier with the spinning carousel at its end, fairy lights strung from posts, bringing down constellations for strolling lovers. The painted - out street signs and shop names, the raised arm of the church steeple. And around it all the encircling sea, black as tar under the evening sky.''

‘'That's why I decided I was ready to write about my fears. I have a place to retreat to where I can always put on the lights no matter how dark it is outside.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com/

''Nevertheless, the people in charge of the city were not overly fond of people and so some of the apartments in which the very many different kinds of people lived were often dry when they should have been wet, or wet where they should have been dry, or just cold and dark and supplied with especially listless electricity.''

Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry is arguably the finest book in Children's Literature. It has shaped millions of little ones all over the world and will continue to do so no matter how hard many publishers try to lure children into reading utterly ridiculous stories full of violence and devoid of any meaningful themes. The influence of this marvelous book in A.L.Kennedy's  The Little Snake is evident because, like Le Petit Prince, this is a beautiful, moving fable of freedom, diversity, hope and equality. You know, all those things that are severely under threat in this difficult world of ours.

''But shouldn't you be terribly afraid?''

''Why? Are you terribly frightening?''

In an unnamed country, Mary acquires a new loyal, extremely intelligent friend. A beautiful snake named Lanmo. Lanmo visits those who have reached the end of their life but the girl has nothing to fear from the glorious reptile. On the contrary, the actual threat comes from the human beings, the ones who rule her country and every country in the world, the ones who do Lanmo's work much more swiftly and effectively than him. Lanmo and Mary develop a deep bind that will last for years and years, in a world that is slowly falling apart.

The traces of  Le Petit Prince are everywhere, inserted seamlessly in the beautiful story created by A.L.Kennedy. The same sadness permeates the narrative, the same call for change and understanding. Lanmo has all the characteristics associated with snakes, the wisdom, the cruelty towards the ones who deserve punishment for their crimes. He is also a symbol of Death, his character composed by tidbits of Folklore related to snakes. As a result, Lanmo is an extremely memorable figure in a story that is dark, poignant and powerful. Mary is also a beautiful character and demonstrates that people can be kind and honest and caring. As Lanmo has the ability to taste the feelings of the humans and control their minds, he understands that the world is worth fighting for. For all the Marys that call this Earth their home. A society where noone wants to change anything, everything has to be ‘‘normal'', every resident has to be the same with everyone else. All Lanmo wants to do is to correct the injustice of the communities.

''Your city is too sad now. Your kites hardly fly.''

There are leaders like Karl Otto Meininger, the wealthy businessman who rules Mary's country in the beginning of the story. And then a general rises in power, a dictator. The kites, which stand for freedom, happiness, and change, cannot fly in a sky that is now dark with the echoes of war and desperation. Wealthy businessmen and members of armed forces have no place ruling countries. They create lands where there is no honesty but hypocrisy, no compassion but violence. The world described in The Little Snake is a depiction of our own and we are slowly but surely missing every train. And sadly, there are very few -if any- Lanmos in our times...

In a community where love, understanding, communication and compassion are non-existent because wealth and power matter more, Mary stands as a symbol that things may change. Lanmo is the lighthouse of wisdom and knowledge, the only means that people have in order to defend themselves from the dictators and wealthy tyrants of the world. The Little Snake is a powerful story whose effective sarcasm hits the target from the very first pages. It reads like a dark fairy tale but it is so much more than that...

''You are going mad in your old age, silly Granny, and you should let us put you in a house at once and take care of all your belongings so they don't bother you any longer.''

Many thanks to Canongate Books and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com