What We're Reading 

Find out here what we are reading and what we think of it. Sure, we're in the business of selling books, so we are not going to dwell on the books we loathe, but we hope the opinions you'll find here are a touch more unfiltered and genuine than what you'll read on the back of the jacket.   

If that's not enough, don't forget we have regular columnists in David, Morgan, Janice, Louise and Sonia. Gleebooks - where our bedside tables do the hard yards to help preserve yours. 


February 2019

 - Wednesday, February 06, 2019

Jack: Asymmetry by Lisa Halliday  ‘Love is volatile. Recalcitrant. Irrepressible. We do our best to tame it, to name it and plan for it and maybe even to contain it between the hours of six and twelve, or if you’re Parisian five and seven, but like much of what is adorable and irresistible in this world it eventually tears free of you and, yes, sometimes you get scratched up in the process.’  For lovers of Rachel Cusk, Sally Rooney and Jennifer Egan....between the hours of eight and one.

Jonathon: Golden State by Ben H. Winters—In a future California, telling a lie is a crime and honesty holds society together. Or does it? And what about metaphor? Winters’ detective Laszlo Ratesic moves through a procedural frame to eke out the edge where the story that a society tells itself begins to fray, burn, or simply adjust with the needs of the powerful. A political meditation ripe for our post-factual times.

Janice: The Ninth Hour by Alice McDermott—A young Irish immigrant finds it impossible to carry on and turns on the gas. The fire that ensues sees Sister St. Saviour, an old nun, appear in the damaged apartment and take over the lives of the widow and her unborn child. Thus, Sally becomes the convent child, growing up in the basement, playing while Sister St. Saviour does the ironing. Sally becomes involved with the work of the nuns, visiting the poor and feeding hungry. She goes to school and is influenced by her teachers to join them. Whether this will happen or whether an action of Sally’s makes this unlikely, we shall see. I like Alice McDermott’s Irish catholic family novels. She is a wonderful writer, her description of the New York slums is vivid and disturbing. I found the nuns, Sally and her mother, very believable, each trying to do the best they can under very difficult circumstances.

Judy: Mythos by Stephen Fry¬≠—What a pleasure to be told these tales by the amusing and erudite Stephen Fry! It’s all here, from Chaos to Prometheus, with many informative and hilarious footnotes. Zeus’ radiance as a young man almost painful to look upon is footnoted thus: ‘As is often the case with extraordinarily attractive people. It is incumbent upon us to apologize or look away when our beauty causes discomfort’. The pleasure of the narrator infuses the whole enterprise of Mythos.

John: Simon Mawer’s Prague Spring  skirts the border between literature and thriller. As the title suggests it is set during the historic events, 50 years ago, when the communist government of Czechoslovakia relaxed the restrictions on individual freedoms only to be crushed by the Soviets. The events are seen through the eyes of a young English couple, students from Oxford University, and a British diplomat and his Czech girlfriend. It tells their stories and their stories become intertwined with historical events. Wonderfully told and very deftly resolved. Highly recommended.

Andrew: The Wall by John LanchesterThe Wall is quite a departure from Capital,  Lanchester’s previous novel—which was a kind of contemporary Dickensian beast, based around a rapidly gentrifying south London street. It was fat and meticulously observed and very very current. The Wall couldn’t be more different. It is a lean and spare 200 odd page novel that I flew through. Set in a dystopian Britain in the very near future (a bit like Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go). Britain has built an almost impenetrable wall around its entire coast, manned by a national guard, made up of young men and women on compulsory two-year stints. I will admit I was a bit impatient with this book for the first couple of dozen pages; I don’t love speculative fiction, and I found the climate change and refugee themes initially so obvious and blatantly telegraphed that I was about to give it up—but I’m really glad I didn’t. The plot kicks in with a series of enthralling voltas, and the tedium of life on the wall is replaced with incipient terrors every which way. It becomes a corker of an adventure horror novel that ultimately crams a lot into its relatively few pages; and manages, too, a real melancholy profundity. It is a real page-turner and where Capital tended to get bogged down with verbosity I think this sparer form suits Lanchester really well. 

Morgan: I love nothing more than discovering a new writer—new to me, anyway—and was bowled over by Valeria Luiselli, a Mexican writer who lives in New York and whose latest book is the utterly astonishing Lost Children Archive. In it Luiselli counterpoints two journeys—that of a couple, both sound archivists who, with their two precocious but funny and lovable children, drive from New York City to Arizona. The husband and father (no-one is named for reasons that don’t escape me but do annoy me) is researching the last of the Apache (much interesting history here) while the woman, a Mexican like the author, is trying to find her way in to a project about the thousands of children who travel alone, through dreadful hardship and uncertainty, from Central America through Mexico to the United States. A deeply intelligent, politically prescient and topical book, it is also one in which the prose swoops and soars and holds you in its thrall. In her skewering of the human condition, Luiselli reminds me of Siri Hustvedt, that other brainiac New Yorker.  Lost Children Archive is out this month and I can’t wait for you all to read it.

Morgan: Also out this month and highly recommended is the sixth and last book in Steven Carroll’s Glenroy series which chronicle a suburban Melbourne family from the early 20th, to the early 21st Century. In The Year of the Beast, WW1 and the rise of the suffragette movement provide the background to the story of the brave and resilient Maryanne who defies social mores to keep her illegitimate baby Vic—father of Michael, who the central character of the rest of the Glenroy series. Beautifully written, the book circles back and around the other novels and characters in the series but can be read on its own. The six books in the Glenroy series, along with his four books based on T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets, is  a remarkable body of work—which, despite several literary awards and shortlistings, has not wide enough a readership.  

Steve: As the apparently lone (almost?) Gleebooks staff member who does not read a lot of crime fiction/thrillers, it may stop the presses to announce I thoroughly enjoyed Christine Mangan’s Tangerine ($23, PB). Set in 1950s Morocco, a timid English wife, Alice Shipley arrives in Tangier in tow with her unpleasant husband who has married her for her fortune. He disappears daily into the city, while Alice remains afraid to venture out much at all. Then Lucy Mason, her one-time best friend and college roommate shows up unexpectedly. Estranged for years over a mysterious college incident, Lucy’s sudden reappearance and her determination to introduce sheltered Alice to the delights of city are told in chapters that alternate between the two women’s points of view. The past and the present unfold. As does Lucy’s darkening obsession with Alice and her increasingly manipulative, suffocating friendship. This book reminded me of Patricia Highsmith’s unique Ripley thrillers. I found myself thinking that the sweltering, claustrophobic atmosphere of the tale combined with the lush, vivid descriptions of Tangier itself would make an equally enjoyable film—and it turns out that Scarlett Johansson has already been cast in the role of Alice in a forthcoming production.  

 Also recommended is Nicholas Thomas’ Discoveries: The Voyages of Captain Cook ($25, PB). This finely written account covers all of the three voyages, ending in Cook’s death in Hawaii in 1779. No mere chronological travelogue—there are plenty of those—this is a freewheeling narrative which often sees the author step into the historical account himself and relate his own experience. Thomas highlights incidents that illuminate the two-way encounters of Pacific islander and the Europeans.

Staff Favourite Reads for 2018

 - Friday, November 02, 2018
David M: For me, it’s The Overstory by Richard Powers. Make no mistake. This is political literature. It is about trees and humans and the fate of the planet. It is a poetic call to arms. It is brilliant. No matter what theory prevails at any given time, I have always tended to think that good literature is potent in that it can at least influence our moral compass. I would like to believe that great literature will always influence us for the better. We have one decade left to avoid catastrophic climate change, and even the head of Shell has said that we need to plant the equivalent of another Amazon rainforest immediately. I read The Overstory before it was shortlisted for the Booker, and I am writing this on the day before the winner is announced. With luck, millions more will read it now. And do something worthwhile. ($33)

Tamarra: My Thoughts Exactly by Lily Allen—Lily Allen delves deep into her personal life in My Thoughts Exactly—she’s frank and brutally honest and doesn’t bother to sugar coat the good or the bad. Allen discusses her music, excess drug and alcohol use, and her mental health. She talks candidly about her chaotic childhood, the breakdown of her marriage, the ugly side of celebrity where men took advantage and of loss and grief. Respect to Lily for being so honest—it’s an engaging insight, and at odds with the woman who is often seen as brash and outspoken. She is smart, witty and wise, talented and beautifully flawed. ($35)

Louise: Warlight by Michael Ondaatje entranced me. Its shadowy, extraordinary characters, the crepuscular settings in both the English countryside and London, and the detailed, imaginative plot, all written with grace and clarity. A very literary thriller, a war book, and a love story ($30). The Only Story by Julian Barnes is also a memorable love story, but a heartbreaking one. The author’s exquisite writing is somewhat at odds with the harrowing but compelling story of two people taking a road less travelled. Very affecting. ($30)

Judy: Exit West by Mohsin Hamid—Saeed and Nadia must exit the life they are living as their city is destroyed around them. They find a door to scramble through and enter upon a new existence—via Greece to England & beyond. Their struggles, their resilience, their relationship engage us completely and yet the perspective afforded by the author is large, poetic. He tells us, through this fantastic novel, that we are all displaced, all lurching through doors to other lives—even the woman who lives her whole life in one place as the neighbourhood transforms utterly around her. To be alive on this planet is to be moved along. ... ‘and we too will be lost by those who come after us and love us, and this loss unites humanity, unites every human being, the temporary nature of our being-ness, & our shared sorrow’.... A moving, intriguing and generous book full of great characters & encounters. ($20)

Stephen: Pale Rider: The Spanish Flu and How It Changed the World by Laura Spinney—In 1918, a unique, mutating influenza virus, later to be called the Spanish Flu, arrived in France from Kansas. It became a pandemic that in three global waves between 1918 to 1920, infected 500 million people—a third of the world’s population—and killed between 50 to 100 million people worldwide. It surpassed the death toll of both WW1(18 million) and WW2 (60 million) and probably the two combined. Yet how many people today have even heard of it? Laura Spinney’s engrossing book is a scientific detective story of the origins, the course, the human response and the legacy—a century later—of the worst pandemic of modern times. It’s also a moving narrative of individual human tragedy on a worldwide scale.($23)

Morgan: White Houses by Amy Bloom

— A superbly written novel about Eleanor Roosevelt and her long-term companion and lover ‘Hick’, a journalist who covered the Depression and politics in a time when that was unusual. Written in Hick’s compelling voice, this beautiful novel interprets real people in the real world but rises above the ordinary to become all art ($28). I also loved Asymmetry, a debut novel by Lisa Halliday—written in seemingly unrelated sections, the fun is in working out how in the end, they do relate. A book about writing and fame and the modern world. ($28)

Andrew: I was gloriously stunned by Rachel Cusk’s Kudos (the conclusion to her Outline trilogy). Her babushka doll stylistics were an absolute eye-opener ($30). Alan Hollinghurst’s The Sparsholt Affair was published late last year, but I read it over the summer and it is so consummate that it floored me ($19). But if I have to choose one book for the year it is The Only Story by Julian Barnes—this short novel packs a sucker-punch that had me reeling ($33).

James R: Exit West by Mohsin Hamid—I’ve wanted to read Hamid for a while, and finally got to it with Exit West. The story reads like a modern blend of Graham Greene and Paul Coehlo—weaving magical realism through an otherwise familiar world. As Saeed and Nadia escape the religious conflict that devastates their home, they share moments of fear, anger, and tenderness in the face of the unknown. It was a moving and (surprisingly) sweet journey, told without sanctimony or artifice. ($20)

Tatjana: All About Saul Leiter—Originally published to accompany a retrospective in Tokyo 2017, this book presents the photographer’s work in the best way. Of course it covers his much loved colour photography but also included his b/w photos, fashion magazine spreads, paintings and overpainted photographs. He was a master of composition, managing to layer information into photos that may at first sight look simple. His work is genius in its simplicity. ($40)

Scott V: The Bully Pulpit by Doris Kearns Goodwin—Not only my best read for 2018, but my best non-fiction read for many years. The story of Presidents Theodore Roosevelt and William Taft, and a group of magazine writers who would become pioneers of investigative journalism. An amazing read for anyone in the least bit interested in US history ($35). As for fiction, Boy Swallows Universe by Trent Dalton was a revelation. Not only a well-written page turner, but a journey back into Australian 1980s suburban culture. Set to become a classic. ($30)

Scott D: British/American historian Bernard Lewis wrote his entertaining and eventful memoir Notes on a Century at age 95. He reflects on a lifetime of engagement with the Middle East, first as an Orientalist scholar at the University of London and later as an academic in the United States and occasional adviser to Western governments and their allies in the Middle East. He knew personally many of the key players in the region during the last century and relates an endless store of surprising and frequently amusing anecdotes of political gamesmanship, misunderstandings and lost opportunities. While it cannot claim to be great literature Lewis’s memoir succeeds in putting a human face to the region’s years of conflict and to provide a historical framework on which to build a lasting peace. ($30)

David G: Julian Barnes has always been a prodigiously gifted novelist, although I’ve not always loved his work, as it shifted through genre and subject. But, for me, the last four books Sense of an Ending, Levels of Life, The Noise of Time, and now, The Only Story, show us a writer at the peak of his powers, and focused on what truly matters. The Only Story is, put simply, about love (what other story is there, in the end?) and it is bleak and uncompromising tale—but so beautifully, poignantly told that it has stayed with me, all year. As has Tim Winton’s gloriously distinctive and heartfelt The Shepherd’s Hut. I don’t know another writer who can match him for an Australian landscape and the predicament of survival within it. His books should be required reading for all of us. ($34.99)

Jack: There are several books still echoing in rooms at my house: Last Stories, by William Trevor ($30); On Kate Jennings by Erik Jensen ($18); If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin ($27); Endure by Alex Hutchinson ($33); The Mars Room by Rachel Kushner ($33); The Street Philosophy of Garry Winogrand by Geoff Dyer ($108). One book in particular, to quote Louis MacNeice, left the walls dancing over and over with its shadow: Reading With Patrick, a memoir by Michelle Kuo ($30), a Harvard graduate who volunteers for a temporary job at the Teach for America program based in Helena, Arkansas, in a high school ‘decrepit and accountable to nobody’. Two years after she leaves Helena, a former student, Patrick Browning, is jailed on a murder charge. Kuo abandons her law career, moves back to Arkansas and teaches him to read and write while he awaits trial. She brilliantly examines the effects of race, class, poverty and privilege. And observes of Patrick that ‘he had come so far, but what struck me then and for many years afterward was how little I had done for him. I don’t mean this in the way of false modesty. I mean that it frightens me so little was required for him to develop intellectually—a quiet room, a pile of books and some adult guidance’.

James P: Less by Andrew Sean Greer—The Pulitzer Prize winner ticked all of the right boxes for me this year. There was something about Arthur Less’ odyssey of avoidance; punctuated with hilarious and profound moments (often simultaneously) that sang to my reader’s heart. I still catch myself daydreaming about certain scenes and the extraordinary cast of supporting characters who are all so vivid in my mind. ($20)

Jonathon: Two books particularly stood out this year. First, Lynne Ramsay made Jonathan Ames’ You Were Never Really Here into a startlingly spare film, which pointed me to the book. Ames’ curt thriller draws the psyche of an American veteran bent on purging his emotions, leaving him a hollow hired bludgeon specialising in rescuing children kidnapped into the child sex trade. You can imagine how that goes. But Ames’ asides on American society push this from pure grime to some sort of gravity. Second, Ronen Givony’s celebration of Jawbreaker’s 24 Hour Revenge Therapy provides a wonderful history of the comically pious punk scene of the early 1990s, giving an indispensible orientation for today’s alternative rock music, where hitting the mainstream is celebrated and the mainstream appears more like the do-it-yourself world than ever before. ($20)

Sally: The Lost Man is another great crime story from Jane Harper—perfect for summer reading. Like her first, The Dry, it’s redolent of the Outback—this time a huge cattle property in western Queensland. While it does have a murder at its centre—and a bizarre one at that—it’s more a gripping psychological thriller about the extended family who run the station. You can almost feel the heat
and dust. ($30)

Victoria: I have two favourite books that I read this year. I loved The Shepherd’s Hut by Tim Winton. No other writer writes about the Australian landscape or it’s characters, like him in my opinion. It is narrated by fifteen year old Jaxie, which is a powerful drive throughout the novel. He is on the run and alone in the harsh western Australian desert until he meets Finton MacGills who lives in the middle of nowhere in eponymous Shepherd’s Hut. Why is he there? Winton always leaves his reader thinking and this book stayed with me for a long while afterwards ($34.99). The other book I loved was published last year but I only got around to reading it this year—and that is Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie. Set in modern day London with its terrorism and prejudice’s—it was brave and sad and uncomfortable and wonderfully written. ($20)

Lynndy: Lenny’s Book of Everything by Karen Foxlee—This is the sort of story that lingers ever after in your mind; the sort of book that in 30 years’ time bookshop customers will open their enquiry with ‘I want a copy of a book I read when I was a kid; can’t recall the exact title but I absolutely adored it and read it over and over again...’ The further into this book I read, the more slowly I did so, wanting to stay with and savour the story of Lenny and her younger brother Davy whose gigantism progressively forces him to become isolated from the outside world. The siblings experience much of the world vicariously through the weekly issues of a Build-It-At-Home Encyclopedia, and Lenny, as family chronicler, allows us to engage with everyone who intersects with their single parent family. Set in the 1970s, Foxlee’s novel is populated by slightly offbeat characters and warm humour. What’s to like about this book? Everything! ($20)

Viki: I found Michael Lewis’ new outing, The Fifth Risk ($39.99), not only a great read, as are all his books, but, despite the rather bleak picture he paints of a Trump ‘government’, I also found it truly inspiring. His portraits of people who give their lives and talents to the less well remunerated and certainly less celebrated life of public service (only ever noticed when something goes wrong)—working for the common good rather than opting for the outrageously overpaid and generally rapacious corporate sector—are enough to encourage a late life leap into the bureaucracy before it’s all been sold off, or farmed out to high-priced consultants. I encourage parents to give this to their kids in the hope it inspires them likewise. While still on the subject of hoping for the future—I also really enjoyed the new Barbara Kingsolver, Unsheltered ($29.99).

Ingrid: Beautifully written, and carefully structured Sally Rooney’s Normal People is a contemporary coming of age love story. Marianne and Connell attend the same school, but come from very different backgrounds and families. The reader gets to know them as they navigate their friendship and relationships through the final year of high school to University in Dublin and beyond. ($30)

Janice: First, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman. Well, Eleanor is not even remotely fine, rather she is a bit of a mess. With no friends at work or at home, she spends her week days alienated from her colleagues and spends her weekends drinking vodka. She lives a life of endless routine, wearing the same clothes to work every day, eating the same lunch. Then something happens, and Eleanor discovers a new way of living, one that brings friends, hope and happiness ... and a dog. Loved it. ($25)
Second, Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata. This is a joy of a book. Keiko is a convenience store worker and she loves her job. She loves having everything in order, looking neat & tidy. She finds peace and purpose in simple daily tasks. But this isn’t right for an educated Japanese woman—her family and friends all think she is weird, and pressure her to find a partner and settle down. How Keiko finds a partner, and how she tries to live a life away from the convenience store, makes a great read. Funny, quirky, absurd, this book is for those, like me, who often find themselves at odds with the world. Wonderful! ($25)

October 2018

 - Friday, October 05, 2018

The Bully Pulpit: Theodore Roosevelt & the Golden Age of Journalism by Doris Kearns Goodwin One of the most interesting books on U.S. history I have read. On the one hand it focuses on the lives of two Presidents, Theodore Roosevelt And William H Taft, and their close friendship (which eventually ruptures). On the other hand it explores the birth of investigative journalism through a group of determined reporters. Having already learnt a good deal about Roosevelt, Taft is a revelation here, a larger than life character—although never as dynamic as the whirlwind Roosevelt. And there is the irony of two Republicans fighting rampant capitalism and busting up the huge monopolies; two Presidents who, despite flaws, are decent human beings. But the most fascinating aspect, is the journalism and journalists of McClure’s Magazine, including a brilliant female journalist, who were instrumental in exposing the corruption inherent in the monopolies and in government. I came away certain that someone soon will be making an 8-part Netflix series on these fascinating people. Scott V

The Ninth Hour by Alice Mcdermott A young Irish immigrant finds it impossible to carry on and turns on the gas. The fire that ensues sees Sister St. Saviour, an old nun, appear in the damaged apartment and take over the lives of the widow and her unborn child. Thus, Sally becomes the convent child, growing up in the basement, playing while Sister St. Saviour does the ironing. Sally becomes involved with the work of the nuns, visiting the poor and feeding hungry. She goes to school and is influenced by her teachers to join them. Whether this will happen or whether an action of Sally’s makes this unlikely, we shall see. I like Alice McDermott’s Irish catholic family novels. She is a wonderful writer, her description of the New York slums is vivid and disturbing. I found the nuns, Sally and her mother, very believable, each trying to do the best they can under very difficult circumstances.  Janice 

Mythos: The Greek Myths Retold by Stephen Fry What a pleasure to be told these tales by the amusing and erudite Stephen Fry! It’s all here, from Chaos to Prometheus, with many informative and hilarious footnotes. Zeus’ radiance as a young man almost painful to look upon is footnoted thus: “As is often the case with extraordinarily attractive people. It is incumbent upon us to apologize or look away when our beauty causes discomfort.” The pleasure of the narrator infuses the whole enterprise of Mythos. Judy

My Absolute Darling by Gabriel Talent  My Absolute Darling will leave you stranded, gasping, having experienced the trauma imposed on this novel’s young protagonist in an all too visceral way. Talent lures you into his fractured world of emotional dissonance and spits you out a changed reader - an accomplishment all writers aspire to and few achieve. The discord in this novel will haunt you for nights to come. Emma

You Were Never Really Here by Jonathan Ames A short sharp brutal thriller of circulating trauma. Curt prose effortlessly draws the psyche of a veteran bent on purging his emotions, leaving him a hollow hired bludgeon, specialising in rescuing children kidnapped into the child sex trade. Ames’ regular asides on American society push this from pure grime into some sort of gravity.  Jonathan

The Arsonist, Chloe Hooper  A story based on the actions of an arsonist in the Latrobe Valley, during the Black Saturday fires of 2009, which, as you might expect from Hooper, as the author of The Tall Man", is about so much more. In a country understandably obsessed with bushfires, and the nature of of those who would deliberately light fires, the subtitle, "A Mind on Fire", suggests a world of detail and insight.  David

Unsheltered by Barbara Kingsolver

Any new novel by Barbara Kingsolver is eagerly awaited, and Unsheltered  won't disappoint. Kingsolver has consistently, and increasingly as her career progresses, been a fine practitioner of politically engaged fiction, with a keen eye to melding past and present. The human drama of two families' struggles to manage takes place in alternating chapters a century apart (late 19th and 20th) in the same falling-down house in New Jersey. The cultural shifts our main characters are charged with navigating are dramatically different of course, and Kingsolver's sympathies are clearlydetermined by an overt moral compass—but that's ok. There's such an ease and warmth of engagement in her prose that the dual narrative work seamlessly. A big treat for her fans. David

  Two families a century apart live on the same lot with their houses literally and metaphorically falling down upon them. In the 21st century Iano and Willa are members of the collapsing middle class—the class into which Victorian era Thatcher Greenwood is attempting (albeit with disinterest) to rise into. Drowning in technology and its attendant waste Willa and Iano live in a world where scientific fact is labeled fake for political expediency, while science teacher Thatcher fights to teach natural selection in his classroom. I really enjoyed the back and forths and mirroring between the centuries in Kingsolver’s latest, especially when Willa’s scrappy (quietly unfavoured) daughter Tig is holding forth about humans coming to the end of the earth’s carrying capacity—as she says of Willa and her generation: ‘You prepped for the wrong future’. Kingsolver can be a tad earnest or didactic, but she had a pretty good hold on that tendency this outing  - I was disappointed when it finished, which is always a good sign.  Viki

2028 by Ken Saunders  Ken Saunders is a new name in Australian fiction, with a brilliantly funny debut novel: 2028. There's genuine, laugh out-loud humour and at the same time gnash your teeth and groan at the hideous reality of it all. It's a highly risky fictional manoeuvre, but Saunders pulls it off. It's election time, and a cliche-riddled Labor Party face defeat, yet again, to the moribund, complacent Liberals (the Greens are broke and busted). But out of nowhere appears the Ned Ludd Party (all members are named Ned Ludd), a party whose headquarters is at the No Expectations, Charles Dickens themed cafe (where only gruel is on the menu). These Luddites aren't machine smashers, they're simply revolutionary in their insistence on honesty, clarity and personal morality in politics. Unsurprisingly, the satire therein, and the narrative it embodies, is not subtle. But it's very funny and right on the money about the political climate we endure. David

Girl on the Page by John Purcell  Set in London, this is a racy (and sexy)  page-turner that also manages to be be intelligent and brimming with ideas about books, publishing and writing. Purcell contrasts the worlds of popular fiction represented by beautiful young editor Amy and high-end literary fiction as written by Malcolm and Helen. Their worlds collide with big ramifications for all three characters with the story culminating at the Booker prize presentation. A must-read for anyone in the book trade but also for readers who are interested in relationships and literature.  James

The Force by Don Winslow   Wow, Don Winslow does it again, a powerful edge of your seat ride with corrupt NYPD cop Denny Malone. Denny and his crew (of special task-force detectives) are the ‘good guys’ who run protection, sell influence, act as bag men, murder, steal, and much more. Denny is  the cop-king of North Manhattan but his world is crashing down. John

Rosie: Scenes from a Vanished Life, Rose Tremain   Tremain finally turns her novelist’s eye inwards. She exhumes rare pockets of warmth and affection from the emotional Antarctica of her childhood in post WW2 England. The signature subtlety of her prose translates beautifully in this memoir that charts the making of a true artist. James P

Lies You Never Told Me, Jennifer Donaldson On the surface a story of relationships; it’s a masterful circular portrayal of obsession and deception, Shakespearean in scale, with a killer ending! 

September 2018

 - Thursday, August 30, 2018
Sophie: Hunger by Roxane Gay—The heart-wrenching memoir of one of my favourite feminist writers. It reveals the physical effects sexual trauma can have on your body, and the complicated relationship between food, hunger and self-image. I love this book because it doesn’t have the predictable ending of ‘weight loss triumph’, and it doesn’t command you to make peace with your body. Gay is still struggling with her unruly body, and that is refreshing to read.

Scott D: To Die in Spring by Ralf Rothmann—The carnage and cruelty of battle seen through the eyes of two German teenage friends conscripted during the final weeks of World War 2. A fast paced and moving narrative of a most terrible coming of age. Follow with Günter Grass’s Peeling the Onion, a true account of the author’s experiences as a young SS soldier, his dramatic escape from the front and his uneasy relationship with the past as an old man looking back.

Jonathon: The Mars Room by Rachel Kushner—Something like Orange is the New Black. A prison novel of confinement and consequence. Kushner’s cast of female inmates is wonderful, as is the counterpoint of past and present—particularly her scenes of 1980s San Francisco.

James: Sabrina by Nick Drnaso—The first graphic novel to be longlisted on the Man Booker, and rightfully so. Drnaso channels the malaise of our times through a story about murder, those left behind, and conspiracy theories in the wake of a national crisis. It’s touching, sad, and sometimes disturbing—much like life, I guess. (I’m also reading Sabrina. I agree with James. Drnaso piles on page after page of uneasy paranoid silence—in both word and image ... I wish I hadn’t chosen it for my bedtime reading, but am glad to see the Man Bookers acknowledging the graphic novel. Ed)

Andrew: The Outline Trilogy by Rachel Cusk— Kudos, published last month, is the last of a  wonderful trilogy that starts with Outline . Basically the erudite narrator, Fay, sits and listens to people; often complete strangers, and in her relaying what they tell her, lays out a myriad of discursive, philosophical commentaries on the state of being alive.  Lorrie Moore in a review describes them as akin to babushka dolls; Cusk refers to her technique as ‘annihilated perspective’. Charming and addictive, these books are rabbit warrens lined with  mirrors.

John: Scrublands by Chris Hammer—Sent by his editor to a dusty Riverland town 12 months after a mass shooting, a journalist with his own demons, asks why a priest murdered parishioners on the forecourt of the church? There is some great writing here. My pick for best Aussie crime novel this year.

David M: Hotel Silence by AuðurAva Ólafsdóttir—A sympathetic portrait, by a woman, of a man who feels that he has become terminally useless, and the story of his regeneration. A consideration of choices and their context in the lives of ordinary mortals. Small in scale, light of touch, spare and apt in its use of metaphor. A pleasure.

Scott V: Oppy: The Life of Sir Hubert Opperman by Daniel Oakman— A warts-and-all biography of the legendary cyclist who eventually became a politician in the Menzies era. Fascinating to learn just how huge cycling was in Australia and Europe (especially in the 20s and 30s) and the almost inhumane endurance Oppy and his contemporaries displayed. Great read.

Viki: Dictator Literature by Daniel Kalder—Daniel Kalder really does seem to have consumed the sum total tedium of all of the opuses written by the publishing-mad dictator fraternity of the 20th C. His book is a fantastic combination of history & literary criticism—laced with a liberal dose of sharp wit —with which Kalder does a particularly good job of skewering father of the canon, the logorrheic Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov aka Lenin. I’d recommend this to anyone who is interested in history, politics or literature.

August 2018

 - Tuesday, July 24, 2018
James: Why Buddhism Is True, Robert Wright
The most fascinating book I have read in a long time! The author illuminates extraordinary connections between science: evolutionary-psychology, and the historic, philosophical and practical aspects of Buddhism. Far from theoretical, every page is filled with strikingly applicable revelations. Highly recommended! 
 Keiko is a square peg in a round hole, happy in her small role as a convenience store worker but feeling the pressure from friends and family to conform. A quietly quirky little novel which speaks to us on what it means to be happy while challenging society's perception of what happiness should look like. (Tamarra). This deceptively simple novel is filled with humour, nuance and profound moments found in everyday “small things”. Kieko (the narrator) will appeal to anyone who loves the way an outsider, largely overlooked by society, can often illuminate the very people that don’t see them with intelligence, precision and insight. (James)

Viki: Ten Arguments For Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now, Jaron Lanier  You’ll have no arguments from me about turning off social media accounts - but computer scientist and sometime engineer of Internet2, Jaron Lanier puts forward ten fascinating and entirely non-judgemental arguments that could kick start a conversation you may want to have with your kids (or yourself) about time spent mindlessly in front of a screen.

James: Eggshell Skull by Bri Lee—This is a debut memoir that charts Bri Lee’s journey through the Australian legal system. And what a journey! As a judges associate she must remain outwardly neutral—while we the readers are privy to not only the seemingly endless and devastating ways women experience ‘justice’, but also Lee’s deeply personal history that fuels the writing—which is breathtakingly good. This book will make you furious. And it should! It draws focus to an insidiously entrenched aspect of our society, confronting but essential to look at. The title refers to a legal doctrine that basically doesn’t allow the seriousness of a crime to be mitigated by a victim’s innate weakness. What if the victim is smart, angry and finds their own strength? With skill and courage Lee is able to invert this doctrine leaving us with a slither of hope!

Victoria: It’s a fact…I read more in the winter. Warlight by Michael Ondaatje is set in post WWII London. Nathaniel and his sister are abandoned by their parents and put into the care of some interesting and sometimes dodgy characters. Years later Nathaniel wants to know why his parents did this…and who were they really…and what were they doing all that time? Think Le Carré and you might get a clue. 

Steph: A new Pat Barker, due in September: The Silence of the Girls is a powerful re-imagining of ancient times and battles fought It’s told through the life of Briseis whose city, Lynessus, falls to Achilles and his army. Briseis and the women of Lyrnessus are herded onto battleships and taken to their enemies’ encampment, where she is given to Achilles as part of the spoils in the sack of her city. Now slaves to the Greeks the women must endure a life of hardship, at the same time mourning the terrible loss of their husbands, their fathers, their brothers, their homes burnt to the ground, their wealth stolen. Though set in ancient times, this is a powerful and timely story—a reminder of those caught up in the wake of war, the silent casualties who’s lives, homes and freedoms are taken from them. I cried as I turned the last page.

July 2018

 - Tuesday, July 03, 2018
Andrew: Never Mind and Some Hope by Edward St Aubyn.  (Gathered together in The Patrick Melrose Novels Volume 1)
I remember  trying to ready At Last by Edward St Aubyn several years ago, not aware that it was the very last in a sequence of five novels. I found Patrick Melrose such a vile, black star of acerbic disdain for what seemed like everything and everyone coming into his purview, that I chucked it away after a chapter or two. Thankfully I have finally returned to the series in (most crucially) the correct order, with the first and second novels—and am now an evangelical convert. These are indeed dark dark novels, of abuse, addiction and predation, but imbued with a terrible pathos, written with a tightrope walker’s precision, and a corrosive wit. One moment we are privy to a childhood summer in Provence; figs dropping and spoiling in the sun; ants marching in the sun along  ancient stone walls; lounging dinner guests with too-clever conversation  avoiding the whiff of anything déclassé — this collides in the second novel with a desparate dash by our hero through the lower eastside in Manhattan twenty years later, in a quest for smack and cocaine of a decent enough purity to hit up, and the comedic, exhaustingly forensic account of the  binge that ensues, taking in its stride a funeral parlour, swanky restaurants, grubby diners and the Mudd Club. Dark dark humour with a terrible core understanding of human frailty. An acclaimed television adaptation with Benedict Cumberbatch has just hit our screens, but I implore you to read the books first. A  secret of Patrick's childhood, as revealed in the first novel, is so astoundingly revelatory and written of with such a terrible beauty that for a moment or two the whole world lurches off it axis.

John: I’ve been slow in getting to Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie—which was one of our most popular literary fiction books last year. We learn of three siblings—British with a Pakistani heritage, orphans whose father, a jihadi, died in custody. The young twins Aneeka and Parvaiz are bought up by their older sister Isma, who has taken up a scholarship at an American university, so the 19 year old twins are on their own. Aneeka is academic and studies law while her brother, Parvais, is a bit of a dreamer who is radicalised and recruited by ISIS. Aneeka begins a relationship with the Home Secretary’s son, but is it love? Home Fire is a novel about the nature of love and power. It works on both a personal and national scale while maintaining a taut plot that leads to an unexpected climax. If, like I, you’re late to Home Fire, I highly recommend you pick it up.

June 2018

 - Monday, May 28, 2018
Stef: Educated by Tara Westover:   I read this story in shock and awe. What a story,  what a life.  And what a transformation.  Tara Westover was the youngest child borne into a large Morman family,  raised in Idaho,  with limited opportunities to be part of a wider community.  She was born at home, she has no birth certificate, no medical records, no school records, according to the state of Idaho and the federal government she does not exist. She along with three of her siblings, she is one of seven, was home schooled by her mother and believed what her over zealous father preached. Her father was preparing for the end of days, fearing the outside world’s influence would lead to corruption and the rejection of his beliefs. They stockpiled food, water, ammunition and fuel. An all controlling and at times an incredibly dangerous man, he drip fed them fear and paranoia for the world. Despite this, through her own incredible determination Westover managed to school herself to a level that she wins a place at Brigham Young University in Utah and it is here that her education begins. Not just academic (she gets a BA, is awarded a Gates Cambridge Scholarship & was a visiting fellow at Harvard University)—but she has to learn how to live in a world that is unfamiliar to her— how to behave, how to dress, how to make friends, how to interact within a community and belong. This would be perfect book for a book club.

John: The Cuban Missile crisis in 1962 looms large in our collective memory even for those of us too young to have our own memories of the momentous events of that year. As a young person in the late 70s and early 80s I was sure that world would end with a nuclear holocaust, and that it would probably be soon. After the invasion of Afghanistan on Christmas Day 1979 Doug Mulray doing his best Malcolm Fraser impersonation declared war on the Soviet Union, for a few moments I imagined Russian submarines launching missiles on Pine Gap and Sydney. In his book 1983: The World at the Brink Taylor Downing describes just how close to armageddon we came in that year. Setting the year against the personalities of the new American President, Reagan, and Soviet leader and former head of the KGB, Yuri Andropov. It was the year Korean Airlines KAL007 was shot down by a Russian fighter. All on board were killed including a US Congressman. Arms controls talks were suspended and NATO exercises were almost interpreted by the Soviets as the ‘real thing’ It was the year a very brave Russian Lieutenant Colonel held his nerve after multiple false alarms of US ballistic launches. I had a notion of some of the events of 1983 but Taylor Dowling manages to place them in time and context. A fascinating read, that left me wondering how many other near misses there have been.  

Jack:  "If you follow their rules, they make more rules. You have to fight people or you end up with nothing." 

The Mars Rooms is the saddest song I have heard all year. It shares with other songs of desolation (novels such as Rohinton Mistry's A Fine Balance and Colson Whitehead's Underground Railroad) an unflinching ambition and anger that dares you to hold it in your hands and marvel at how the light gets in.   

Louise: Youth may be wasted on the young, but Sally Rooney's protagonist Frances, in Conversations with Friends, is experiencing most of its highlights, as well as several low moments. She's broken up with her girlfriend - but still performs spoken word with her; she's fallen in love with a handsome man, and goes to the south of France with him and his wife. Humour, yearning, and gender politics abound in this surprising and gritty first novel. I loved it!

May 2018

 - Tuesday, May 15, 2018
A Gentleman in Moscow,  Amor Towles. Set in Moscow from the early 1900’s the story spans decades drawing the reader through the political upheavals of Russia. Count Alexander Rostov, recipient of the Order of Saint Andrew, member of the Jockey Club, Master of the Hunt is an unrepentant aristocrat who has just been sentenced to house arrest indefinitely. His crime—to be born into a family of independent means and a life of leisure. As the Count adjusts to his new life in the hotel Metropol, no longer in his comfortable, elegant and spacious suite on the third floor, his new home is now a small attic room with just one small window, barely high enough for the Count to stand upright. But instead of his world shrinking and diminishing it becomes rich and expansive—as the years tick by the Count  forms deep and lasting friendships within the Hotel Metropol, accepting his changing circumstances, rising to the daily challenges and never losing hope or his optimism for mankind and the good of the world. This is truly an extraordinary novel—a pure joy to read - Stef 

 I picked up King Zeno by Nathaniel Rich after a chat one of our customers who had ordered the book after reading a glowing review in the New York Review. I was just about to have a week off, and King Zeno sounded like a good book to take with me. Nathaniel Rich weaves a story around New Orleans in 1918—about music, corruption, soldiers returning from the war in Europe, what the war has done to them and the Spanish Flu that has come to New Orleans with them. It is also story about murder, but its not a crime novel. Some of Rich’s best writing is in his description of the digging of a new canal, and his writing about the emergence of Jazz makes you feel like you’re there. King Zeno is multi-layered with each layer adding to a turbulent tale that’s about many things—but in which New Orleans as a character looms large. Highly recommended.  - John 

April 2018

 - Tuesday, April 03, 2018
Louise: When I read highly revealing memoirs about people’s childhoods I normally have a twinge of sympathy for their parents—after all, most of us are not consistently fabulous at parenting. However it’s really hard to feel even a bat’s squeak of empathy for Tara Westover’s parents, they are truly extraordinary! As one of the younger siblings in a large Mormon family, brought up in the wilds of Idaho, Tara’s very existence was defined by the incredible credo of her survivalist parents—particularly her zealous father. The children were home-schooled up to a point, a very low point, and expected to work in the family scrap yard—as well as preparing for the Reckoning, by preserving peaches and hoarding fuel, in bulk. The scrap yard was a dangerous place, and many serious injuries befell nearly the whole family who were then treated by their mother, a self-taught herbalist. A child’s leg caught on fire, they were often impaled by metal objects and the family had several really bad car accidents, but nothing was ever bad enough to seek mainstream medical attention. The father, Gene, described herbs as ‘God’s Pharmacy’, an optimistically poetic description, and indeed when he was almost burned alive by an exploding vehicle, his wife treated him at home, with said pharmacy.
Unlikely as parts of Educated may seem, it resonates with a chilling ring of truth, and ultimately Tara really is a survivalist, or a survivor at least. She manages against all odds to pass entrance tests, go to college, and eventually win scholarships to far flung places. Her complete unpreparedness to live with other girls at college makes excruciating reading, and her lack of general knowledge is startling—after all this is not a story about a girl born in the 19th century, but in 1986! However, despite all odds—the isolation and the family she was born into—Tara becomes educated, and has written a really compelling book, with a clear and unwavering voice. There are scenes of extreme domestic violence described in the book, so be warned.

Andrew: I admit to ignoring The Sparsholt Affair by Andrew Hollinghurst when it was published last year. The novel is set (initially) in Oxford during the forties, and I had a knee-jerk response that it was going to be all a bit too too much. Too many terribly effete, terribly intellectual, terribly homosexual Oxbridge types, in a too dry comedy of class and manners. What I failed to remember is what a superlative prose stylist Hollinghurst is. Sentence after sentence impeccably phrased; and so staggeringly well-observed that for the first time since my undergraduate days I felt the constant urge to circle or highlight phrases for their gob smacking aptness. The writing has the almost giddy effect of wearing prescription glasses for the first time, it is so consummate in its descriptions. At its heart it is many things, but for me becomes almost an elegy for the lost relationship between a father and his son; a book of pathos rather than of social satire. A couple of the central characters are painters, and Hollinghurst’s descriptions of their talent and its role in their lives, is also brilliant.

John: In a continuation of the holiday reading theme from last month, I have just finished  The Good Daughter by Karin Slaughter. Two sisters’—both lawyers—lives have taken very different paths after their mother was murdered and they were both brutally assaulted. One of the sisters has moved far away emotionally and geographically while the other has stayed in their home town and close to her defence attorney father, Rusty. He will take on the cases that the other lawyers in town won’t touch, and the town doesn’t understand why Rusty would defend a shooter who is so obviously guilty. He is attacked and hospitalised which brings the sisters together to defend the shooter and their family. Bloody and a bit graphic in parts, but a rollicking read with enough twists to keep it interesting.

March 2018

 - Thursday, March 08, 2018
Andrew: At the moment,  I’m charging my way through Circe by Madeline Miller, author of Song of Achilles. Miller is a classical scholar with an absolutely wonderful contemporary eye for story and character, and ear for dialogue. Song of Achilles was a surprise bestseller and prize winner for the debut novelist, and she is just as confident and beguiling here, with her retelling of the life of Circe—the goddess and sorceress probably most famous for punishing the crew of Odysseus by turning them into swine. Her Circe could easily have been an Angela Carter heroine with a zinging strength of character, and cracking feminist sensibility. Miller has an uncanny knack in forging a proper narrative peopled with fully rounded characters out of the shards of source material.

John: I have just had a couple of weeks off and have read a very diverse bunch of books. Perhaps the most surprising for some people will be The Barefoot Investor by Scott Pape. This is a really practical guide to money and investing that’s written for normal people who want to take charge of their finances. Pape has written for newspapers and on TV but I only knew him because we have been selling lots of copies of the book—and I wondered why. He doesn’t talk down to the less financially literate. He doesn’t preach. He doesn’t think that budgets work! He talks about strategies to reduce debt, how negotiate with your ban, what to look for with super, how to save and invest for the long term. You might wish you had had this advice, and followed it, when you were 20 but he says its never too late to improve your circumstances. On a more literary note I reread David Malouf’s Great World which reminded me why David is one of out living national treasures, and one of the greatest Australian writers. I also read the latest Burnie Gunther book from Philip Kerr—Greeks Bearing Gifts which sees Bernie working for an insurance company—it’s due for release in early April—Highly recommended.

I’ve been working my way through Larry McMurtry’s biographical writings on his experiences in movie land, Film Flam and Hollywood: A Third Memoir—both very entertaining. The down-to-earth McMurtry writes with great charm about the egocentricities of Lalaland, and about the art of writing in general. I have a friend who is Larry McMurtry’s number one fan (in a non-Stephen King way) planning a trip to McMurtry’s Texas panhandle town of Archer—home of his rare and secondhand bookshop, Booked Up—his fandom has me considering a read and reread of McMurtry’s novels. From this month’s Gleanings I’m also reading Jonathan Lerner’s Swords in the Hands of Children: Reflections of an American Revolutionary—hiss memoir of the boomer generation terrorist organsiation the Weatherman. An iconoclastic telling, further complicated by Lerner’s closeted homosexuality, of a cultish juvenile macho society that offers a different perspective into the so-called newness of ‘radicalisation’ in today’s alientated western teen world, and gives food for thought in terms of action against the juggernaut of capitalist militarism that continues to threaten earth and its inhabitants.