In March Lisa Owens recommended me this book and now I am recommending it to you. We have made it our mission in to be the Susie Boyt/Loved and Missed street team and we’re doing the hard sell. It’s so good, folks. Deeply lovely, very moving and, inevitably, quite sad. Yet this story, about a Grandmother raising her Grandaughter whilst recalling her frayed relationship with her troubled daughter is also gently funny, matter of fact and oddly cosy. I love a London-based novel, especially if it takes place before 1999, and this one ticks so many boxes for lovely interior details and attention to the domestic. Honestly, it’s a lovely time. I’m handing out copies to people I think need it. Maybe you should do this too?
ALSO W&N have released these new editions of three classic Helen Garner books and were kind enough to send me a set. I’m a huge Helen Garner fan (She was kind enough to give me a quote for Alison, rarely has an email caused me to shake with delight) I’ve read The Children’s Bach and Monkey Grip so I went straight to This House of Grief (non fiction). The book is an account of a real murder trial that took place in Melbourne, Australia in the 90s. The subject matter is, possibly, not for the faint of heart but the way that Garner presents the facts of the case alongside her experience of sitting in the courtroom through the trial is fascinating and horrifying and plainly human and honest. She writes with such clarity (always) and is generously open with her own thoughts and feelings. Reading Helen Garner is, to me, as if someone cleared up my own thoughts and made them, structurally, more satisfying. She can explain a complex reaction (in this case to the particulars of a heartbreaking murder case) in such a way that you are simulteanously dazzled by the fact that she was able to put words to these ideas and completely unsurprised by what she is saying because, of course, that’s what you were just thinking. Oof she’s good. If you haven’t read any Helen Garner pick one of these up and make a start.
And before that you could try this lovely interview with Garner from last year.
I’ve just bought a load of second hand Janet Malcolm books because This House of Grief reminded me a bit of Malcolm’s brilliantly sharp, observant writing. The Silent Woman, about Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes (mostly about Plath and also the process of writing about a real person) is one of the best books about writers, in fact one of the best non-fiction books, I’ve ever read.
I don’t have an audiobook on the go but absolute megastar/book club organiser Anna B Savage recommended Rogues by Patrick Radden Keefe specifically as an audiobook. It’s a collection of his essays which, in audio form, essentially act as manageable podcast-sized one-offs that you can listen to in pieces. Like literally everyone on earth I loved Empire of Pain and Say Nothing so this might be my next download.
Isabel Greenberg is the absolute don of sharp, smart historical comics laced with humour and spikey heroines. Her new book Young Hag was released last week and is one of her best. I loved this exploration of Arthurian legend told through the eyes of the titular ‘Young Hag’ (what a title). It’s obviously a great read for any comics fan but I would heartily recommend this for younger readers who are keen to read more illustrated books. This would absolutely have hooked me as a thirteen year old!
I’m going to Italy next month, for the Turin Book Fair. My friend, Jen, always reads a book set in the country she is visiting when on holiday. Which is a nice thing that I almost always forget to do. Any favourite Italian novels? Bonus points for anything set in Turin/Torino. For the record, Still Life by Sarah Winman is probably one of my favourite italian-set novels. A joy from start to finish and a perfect holiday book, if you need that sort of thing. Also, obviously, Elena Ferrante, of which I especially enjoyed the Days of Abandonement. Oh, and Natalia Ginzburg, also great.
I’m still working on my next book. Which is really interfering with my ability to operate in many different ways. Not least in that writing these newsletters has become quite difficult cos I’m not really doing much. Not much I can share anyway.
But also I fear some crucial part of my brain that was previously used to ensure that I operate at a base level of functionality has been given over to thoughts of my characters’ childhoods, their approach to interior decor and whether a cat would be a needless addition to their fictional home. In this fug, I drpped my phone last week and now it doesn’t work. I lost some notes which I am now convinced included some genuinely genius observations. Then, this week, I bought a pack of pens for drawing but only realised they were the wrong colour when I got them to the studio. Then I bought an overpriced replacement set from WHSmiths (which, if you’re in the UK, you’ll know operates the wild west of pricing structures. £5 mineral water, £3.33 chocolate bars, 57% off haribo. Absolute chaos) and tore them open before spotting they were ‘fine’ not ‘micro’. Urrrgh.
Walking Distance is out in Paperback now. It’s slender, it’ll fit in your pocket, it’ll keep you company on the train ride home. (Also I gave it a new cover cos I hated the old one.) I’ve not re-read this since it came out because I find it too embarassing (this’ll pass…in a few years I’ll be ready) but I think people generally quite liked it.
Alison is coming out in France!
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And also Germany & Switzerland, and (soon) in Italy.
I did an interview in El Pais Semanal a few weeks back. It’s all in Spanish, and paywalled. But if that’s something you can work with…have a read maybe and don’t laugh at how horrifyingly uncomfortable I look in the photos.
OK. That’ll do, pig.
Hope you’re all doing alright.
Lx