Friday Five: Books Read in January

The Secrets She Keeps by Michael Robotham (Sphere) - Male authors seem to think that all women want babies and will do anything to have them. Apparently, baby fever drives us crazy, which must be comforting for them to think that it isn't their oppressive patriarchal behaviour which has this effect. Meghan has a baby and Agatha wants it, so she befriends her to steal it (not a plot spoiler because it's obvious from the cover design). Despite being from supposedly different cultural backgrounds and socio-economic circumstances, the two women are written interchangeably in the first person, and its fortunate that each alternate chapter is introduced by their name or there would be no distinction between the two. Apart from the fact that one has a baby and one doesn't. Because, lest we forget, it is motherhood, or lack thereof, that defines the status of women. One of the characters, let's call her Megatha, literally says, "I am not a real woman because I cannot have a baby." Tedious. 

Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell (Tinder Press) - Maggie O'Farrell has written a story about grief at the death of a chid. That's a tricky subject and one she addresses well. She has made the child the son of William Shakespeare, although her refusal to name him as such and refer to him as the playwright in London or the Latin tutor or the son of a glove-maker seems peverse and artificial. There are wildly overblown sections of prose as she tries to talk about Shakespeare without talking about Shakespeare, including descriptions of the layout of the home of his birthplace, the attitude to ghostly figures, the very essence of iambic pentamter. The novel includes several quotes and themes from Shakespeare's plays and is written in the present tense, which becomes cloying as many things are revealed that are obvious with contemporary hindsight. In trying to diminish William Shakespeare and elevate Anne (called Agnes here) Hathaway, Maggie O'Farrell has done a diservice to both them and us in what feels like little more than fan fiction.

We Solve Murders by Richard Osman (Penguin) - Richard Osman created the wildly popular Thursday Murder Club, and now he has published a standalone novel, We Solve Murders, which looks perfectly set to be the beginning of a new series. The main characters are Amy Wheeler, an assassin/ private security officer to billionaires and her father-in-law, Steve Wheeler, who used to be in the business but now likes spending time with his cat, Trouble, and his quiz team down the pub. It is a fast-paced thriller packed with guns and humour. Influencers are being murdered in a spat between money launderers, but no one really cares about influencers because they are so shallow, until we meet Bonnie Gregor, one with a family and a conscience. Amy is meant to be protecting famous author, Rosie D’Antonio who loves flirting – with danger and men – as they encounter lots of action in multiple locations. There is a cast of hundreds and it’s quite hard to keep track of who is whom. It doesn’t really matter though, as the action, locations and opportunity for cameo roles all combine to make this novel a dying-to-be-made-into-a-film script, with actors queuing up to play the characters. It’s a very decent book with a central character who talks to his dead wife while sitting on a small bench by a quiet pond and is trying to come to terms with his grief and her absence.

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan (Faber) - There is so much weight in such a small book (114 pages) as Claire Keegan questions, what is decency and humaity? "Was there any point in being alive without helping one another?" Bill Furlong is a coal and timber merchant trying to do the best he can for his family in a small, rural Irish town where half the population is emigrating. The Catholic Church dominates the village, the schools and the workforce, and folk turn a blind eye to some of their more insidious practices, such as the Magdalen laundries. With a solid nod to Dickens' A Christmas Carol, Bill has his eyes forced opened just before Christmas, and he has to make a decision rather than merely going with the flow. The language is exquisite as it settles into natural rhythms and their inevitable outcomes, with a beautiful Irish tilt. "So many things had a way of looking finer, when they were not so close. He could not say which he rathered: the sight of the town or its reflection on the water." In this instance less is definitely more.