At first glance, City of Silk has much in common with The Instrumentalist, published in the summer. A talented girl, brought up in the harsh environmeAt first glance, City of Silk has much in common with The Instrumentalist, published in the summer. A talented girl, brought up in the harsh environment of an Italian orphanage, suffers sexual abuse before escaping and finding a way to fulfill her calling.
Apart from the excellence of both, they are completely different.
In City of Silk, Ms Virgo introduces us to the city of Bologna in 1575 through the eyes of Elena, who is desperately trying not to be married off to a rich and powerful abuser. All she wants is to be a tailor like her father, and she knows her sewing is up to it. Luckily she falls in with a widow, a seamstress for women’s clothing. But no, Elena wants to tailor. Women in tailoring is not only unheard of, the Guild prevent it.
We learn more about this wonderful character in flashbacks, before the story moves on to one of subterfuge, danger and suspense.
The characters are beautifully drawn, some based on real artists, others on portraits of artisans in London’s National Portrait Gallery. The research feels as sound as one can make it. I felt I’d been to Bologna and walked its streets. The phrasing is so beautiful it sometimes made me pause, but that helped to pace me through what is a slick and roller-coaster narrative. This book deserves taking your time over.
I’m finding it difficult to say how much I loved this book, which, btw, is not suitable for under 14s. The sights, the sounds, the reality of trade in a medieval city, and the utter invisibility of women… It’s a truly wonderful piece of literature....more
Queen Morgan is in the middle of some critical negotiations when she gets waylaid and moved forward in time to a mediaeval pageant. She quickly works Queen Morgan is in the middle of some critical negotiations when she gets waylaid and moved forward in time to a mediaeval pageant. She quickly works out that this is false… in fact it’s being put on for her benefit to settle her in – she’s actually way in the future, about 2079, in fact. I was disappointed to discover that the power suit with high heels is still the armour of the successful businesswoman, but style and practicality aside, I love the developments of both technology and society that Queen Morgan aka Morgana encounters, and her rationalisation of them to parallels with her own universe. In fact, this rationalisation is so good, for us poor beings in the middle of UK Election fever, it leaves me positively in favour of Morgana’s solutions to all sorts of political nonsense. Vote Morgana – or at least, vote President Malory for life!
For someone allergic to baseball (and pretty much to all overpaid sports that are worshipped by people spending too much money for a pathetic seat in a stadium for the benefit of an already superrich owner) the emphasis on the sport and its game play could be tedious. Note the ‘could be’. I give Kim Iversen Headlee 5 stars for managing to write a baseball book I enjoyed, let alone the superb world-building, dry wit and sarcasm of the political shenanigans, and the heady combination of gangsterism, time travel, social insight, and historical fiction.
Merged review:
Queen Morgan is in the middle of some critical negotiations when she gets waylaid and moved forward in time to a mediaeval pageant. She quickly works out that this is false… in fact it’s being put on for her benefit to settle her in – she’s actually way in the future, about 2079, in fact. I was disappointed to discover that the power suit with high heels is still the armour of the successful businesswoman, but style and practicality aside, I love the developments of both technology and society that Queen Morgan aka Morgana encounters, and her rationalisation of them to parallels with her own universe. In fact, this rationalisation is so good, for us poor beings in the middle of UK Election fever, it leaves me positively in favour of Morgana’s solutions to all sorts of political nonsense. Vote Morgana – or at least, vote President Malory for life!
For someone allergic to baseball (and pretty much to all overpaid sports that are worshipped by people spending too much money for a pathetic seat in a stadium for the benefit of an already superrich owner) the emphasis on the sport and its game play could be tedious. Note the ‘could be’. I give Kim Iversen Headlee 5 stars for managing to write a baseball book I enjoyed, let alone the superb world-building, dry wit and sarcasm of the political shenanigans, and the heady combination of gangsterism, time travel, social insight, and historical fiction....more
The Instrumentalist absolutely lives up to the expectations generated by the blurb. Richly described, intriguing story. All the sights, sounds and smeThe Instrumentalist absolutely lives up to the expectations generated by the blurb. Richly described, intriguing story. All the sights, sounds and smells of Venice. I think that the building constraints mean that very little has changed since 1704, so even a quick visit leaves you fully engaged with the location.
Our heroine, Anna Maria, is introduced to the world by her mother, and it isn’t pretty. We jump a few years at a time, with key episodes in Anna Maria’s life and career. Each time we see people we sort of recognise, and the tensions over how this girl genius can ever escape a dreadful fate and gain recognition in this man’s world. Sometimes I felt it was predictable, and at others I found the author had done just enough to keep my cynicism at bay.
Harriet Constable has done a great job with this story, drawn from scant records and brought to life. I think a few of the historical inventions, particularly the scene with Casanova (who had only just been born by then) were unnecessary and gave little to the plot. Maybe a need to over-egg the pudding? Not that Anna Maria and her friends were familiar with puddings.
A really enjoyable story, with life and sorrow and music, which will be loved by many, especially cellists!...more
This fascinating story tells pretty much all of Mary Read’s life. It uses a first person, present tense narrative, which draws you in to Mary’s secretThis fascinating story tells pretty much all of Mary Read’s life. It uses a first person, present tense narrative, which draws you in to Mary’s secret thoughts and observations. It feels autobiographical, even though Francesca de Tores has pieced it together from many sources, all with scant information.
Saltblood is wholly engrossing. I’m fond of sea stories, but this starts on land before Mary, transformed by her Ma into Mark, the half-brother who pre-deceased her, joins the navy. Mark has a good go at naval warfare, before shifting into the army for a taste of Belgian mud. And not until a cavalry officer is ‘unmasked’ as a woman does Mark have any intention of revealing himself as Mary.
in these days of transgender and LGBQT+, it may be surprising to consider how, really, it was ever thus. But Mark reveals some interesting thoughts on the differences in the treatment and attitudes to women in the 18th century, and they ring true even now.
it’s a fabulous story, with an arc that peaks earlier than I thought it might, but then the roll of the dice means that even Mary can’t avoid the inevitable forever. The characters are lively, wondrous and mixed-up — why else take to piracy? The issues of the time, warfare and slavery, provide a background context to the ‘escape’ so many wretches seek.
The end is well-handled, and the writing is so beautiful I want to go back and read it again. No higher praise than that....more
Each chapter in The Ministry of Time starts with an extract from an account of a polar expedition. This felt familiar, although it was not until the tEach chapter in The Ministry of Time starts with an extract from an account of a polar expedition. This felt familiar, although it was not until the third or fourth chapter that the Erebus resonated in my brain. Yes, I read Michael Palin’s account of this ship, including its momentous search for the Northwest Passage, a few years back.
But it was Kaliane Bradley’s brilliant construction that pulled me in and wouldn’t let me go. I was fully gripped, entwined in this thriller with spy-story overtones, that I’ve merely classed as ‘suspense’. The plot is as intricate as a time travel tale can be. The characters not only present themselves in great depth but with the elegance of people yanked from their eras into a twenty-first century political experiment. The creation of accurate responses to different mores, philosophies and ethics is a real tour de force. Yet it is written so cleanly that they seem to belong to both times at once.
I devoured this book. It gripped me in much the same way as Diamond Eye and Lessons in Chemistry gripped me in previous years. Which suggests it could be my book of the year. The only wrinkle was the ending, which was as twisted and baffling as most time-travel thrillers. I think. I’ll have to re-read it....more
It's a historical adventure with a sort of love interest in places, but mostly, how two displaced people come together and use their skills to make a It's a historical adventure with a sort of love interest in places, but mostly, how two displaced people come together and use their skills to make a living.
The style risked putting me off, as I was wholly engaged in Abbas's world and his troubles, then we seemed to leave him to his own devices and make our way on a ship. Ships at that time were not pleasant places. We have a different narrator, who seems to be suffering from scurvy. I didn't realise that scurvy was so bad. Another thing I've learnt from books this year.
Then we meet up with someone else, now in France, but she has a plan, and once she meets Abbas again, the plan expands into something quite bizarre.
By this time I had settled in to the scenarios that were linked together very skillfully, and no longer irked by the gaps. It's a series of vignettes, following the lives of several people that are interlinked. And I felt it worked, and worked well. The period matched what I've read in other books, the troubles the displaced people encounter, especially with the local gentry, are familiar enough even or especially in this age. Nothing much has changed, it seems.
But at the back of my mind throughout, I was bothered by the tiger. The wondrous tiger made by Du Leze and Abbas. I was sure I had seen it. And the only place I would have seen it would be in a London Museum - and I realised by the end, it is in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Yet the author never mentioned that, despite her 'research' in London, Rouen and India as she says in her afterword. I'm so glad the Tippu Sultan's tiger is safe and well, still....more
Cat Jarman does a thorough job of research on these chests, and the people whose remains may or may not be in them. She starts with the earliest knownCat Jarman does a thorough job of research on these chests, and the people whose remains may or may not be in them. She starts with the earliest known Wessex king, Cynewulf, and ends with the last one named on the chests: William Rufus (son of William the Conqueror). This is not a period of history I know much about. Frankly most GB school history mentions Egyptians, Romans, Edward the Confessor, William the Conqueror, and moves on to the Wars of the Roses. In fact I don’t know whether it does that much, except kids seem to know about Pharoahs, and they spend a lot of time on the history of World War 2.
So a narrative about the kings and politics of pre-1100 has the potential to be interesting. In The Bone Chests, the author takes the supposed contents of one chest at a time, and maps out the who, what, why and wherefore, based on research and records down the ages. The best thing about this book is that it adds in modern science and use of DNA, which is fascinating, revealing as it does where people came from based on their diet and chemical make-up and who they are related to once possible matches have been found in those areas. Like the discovery of Richard III in a Leicester car park, we cannot be 100% certain. But we can be pretty sure that it isn’t anyone else without a huge coincidence involved.
As a result, the book keeps your interest. This is despite some shortcomings, some of which can’t be helped. The number of names that look alike, and in many cases are the same for entirely different people — AEthelstan, AEthelgifu, AElfgifu and all those other Saxon names beginning with AEl…
This was an ARC, so it is possibly not the final version, but I found myself getting confused with the way the author jumped from contemporary to the king under discussion, to contemporary to the Reformation, interspersed with commentary from writers of ages in between. When we were back to later archaeological findings, it seemed fine, but some of the narrative got very confusing. There were also several places where she repeated herself, telling us the same thing twice as if she hadn’t said it before. Some tighter editing would do it the world of good.
There is a good reference section (the last 10%), covering notes as well as extensive bibliography, a list of illustrations (only the drawings of the chests were in my ebook version) and an index, which is pretty redundant in the ebook, but a goldmine for a paper copy–or a reviewer checking name spellings!.
It’s a great hook on which to hang a history of the first millennium in the British Isles, so if you’re remotely interested, take a look. Thank you to the publishers and netgalley for the opportunity to expand my knowledge!...more
Why haven’t I come across the Rebel Girls stable before? This is a brilliant initiative to raise the profile of STEM among girls of the right age. My Why haven’t I come across the Rebel Girls stable before? This is a brilliant initiative to raise the profile of STEM among girls of the right age. My girls of the right age are rapidly growing out of it.
This engaging story takes the few facts we have about Ada Lovelace and turns it into a biography. It may be based on very little, but invents a believable and accurately imagined world. She may have had some of these adventures, and definitely did have others. It’s an excellent mix of cause and effect. I found it all the more believable because the young Ada suffered so many of the same problems I would have done in her era. My mind would also leap on a piece of information in a geography lesson and go off into a reverie of how the local people might have lived, worked, and what the countryside was like.
I had been somewhat confused by how the young Ada Byron managed to turn into Lovelace. She married someone else entirely. That was solved near the end. Having finished with childhood, the book skipped over marriage and children (many!) to the point Ada got her name linked to computing. By that time she had become Lady Lovelace (hubby inherited the title).
Some reviewers disliked the amount of ‘invention’ required. But to me it was perfectly ‘right’ for the age and for the little we actually know. The rest is deduction, Dr Watson, and very well done indeed....more
For the first quarter of the Shadows of London I was adrift, not really enjoying all the people and gruesome events. It all seemed to chop and change.For the first quarter of the Shadows of London I was adrift, not really enjoying all the people and gruesome events. It all seemed to chop and change. The thread, if it was there, was tangled but not in an enticing way like most thrillers. Then it improved, the stakes became clearer, the confusion dwindled, and a really exciting historical tale unfolded.
But there is one thing I finally worked out about this series: why I feel uncomfortable with the two main characters. It’s not to do with their peronalities or characters, or their motivation, which is usually excellent. It’s the writing of them. And in the kindle versions I’m reading, there is little to distinguish one paragraph from another. You can go from a paragraph involving ‘her’ meaning Cat Hakesby, straight into a paragraph involving ‘her’ meaning Louise de Keroualle, the young Frenchwoman not even awarded a name in the blurb. I lost count of the number of times I had to go back and reread a paragraph or three once I realised we had changed characters.
And then.. the same thing would happen when switching from events involving Cat to events involving Marwood, although after a couple of paragraphs, I realised that we were now in first person, whereas Cat is in third. In fact, I is always Marwood.
And that jarred me – is this the root of my whole problem with this series? I do not associate I with Marwood. In the book, I think of I as Cat. I am a woman. So the question comes, is Andrew Taylor actually writing for male readers?
If his editors and publisher haven’t discussed this with him, I really think they should.
So good story, eventually, yet flaws in the writing. I may not bother with the others in the series after all.....more
Fatal Legacy starts with a sort of domestic spat. Some customers leave not only without paying at auntie’s restaurant. They leave the insult of some rFatal Legacy starts with a sort of domestic spat. Some customers leave not only without paying at auntie’s restaurant. They leave the insult of some rivets in a dish instead of coin. Because Flavia Albia has turned up on an errand, she’s coerced into finding the customers and restoring the payment due.
After some padding by the author about the type of things going on in the family and the general state of Rome, Flavia uncovers the family of the reprobates. The matriarch hires her to investigate a will. This uncovers a can of worms, or a nest of vipers, or a tangled web of lies and deceit. Slowly Flavia strips away until, after quite a decent story, we know who did what to whom more or less. Not satisfied at this point, the author convenes a long-winded showdown for the characters. I think this aims to make absolutely clear that the reader knows who did what, and why. The trouble is, by now we don’t care about the people concerned. Tying up loose ends is all very well, but some of these we didn’t realise were loose. We don’t care when they are finally tied up. Twists in the tail are only twists if they are relevant to the plot, rather than extra colour.
So I’ve been generous with a 4 star rating, because the story itself is worthy of it. But it could have had a good deal of editing, and been a better read as a result. And the plot is better than a few of the really nasty incidents of previous ones in the series....more
This captivating and beautifully written book charts the lives of Shay and Nonesuch just as the blurb says. In three Acts, clearly delineated sectionsThis captivating and beautifully written book charts the lives of Shay and Nonesuch just as the blurb says. In three Acts, clearly delineated sections of the 'theatre' plays a central part. I was quite ready for the break each time. I found that the depths in which London of 1601 is portrayed to be sickening at times especially the degradation which the young actors were subjected to.
Having said that, the way that Mat Osman writes the Ghost Theatre is a masterpiece. I just wished he got all of his Elizabethan landmarks correct. In particular the 'spire' of St Pauls was only built after the cathedral was destroyed in the 1666 Great Fire. Before that it had a tower and that was the landmark that Shay should have been pointing out each time. Otherwise most of the tangle of streets that he describes, especially from the rooftops, rings true with the rough thatch, no alleyways, and the ordure. Birds play a major part, brilliantly described.
Osman's imagination, especially of costume and revelry, and his descriptive powers, will delight most wordsmiths. I'm not convinced it has a plot, or not one I engaged with, anyway....more
From about chapter five onwards, this is a great adventure novel with a time travel twist and young love abounding. It’s also full of graphic violenceFrom about chapter five onwards, this is a great adventure novel with a time travel twist and young love abounding. It’s also full of graphic violence, although totally in keeping with the Battle of Stamford Bridge and the Battle of Hastings. If you happen to be the idiot from the future who has to fight in them, that is.
The first four chapters are where Dan works out that he’s travelled in time, that people are suspicious of a time traveller from the 21st century who lands in their midst. It takes him even longer to work out he has to work for a living, that nothing comes from the shop, that they speak differently (although his time travel gadget solves that problem).
And he must be the whiniest person to discover he’s down to be a superhero you can imagine.
I’ve been allergic to the rash of ‘boy turns x years, discovers his superpowers and goes to school to find out how to use them’ school of MG novel for some time. Dan is just another, although his dad has been training him without any explanation for years. So it turns out that once Dan starts using his head, and trusting the wonderful sidekick Sam, he’s pretty good at Anglo-Saxon warfare.
But Andrew Varga knows his stuff, expounds on the fighting that’s about to happen, and has a neat subplot in the time war. He writes well, and thrillingly. I hope the rest of the series (No 2 coming later this year) is as good. At least it won’t have too much of the whiny stuff, I hope....more
This is one of those books you read carefully, all the way through, or dip into when you feel ready for the next character. I read it carefully, sinceThis is one of those books you read carefully, all the way through, or dip into when you feel ready for the next character. I read it carefully, since I felt a duty to do so, although at several points I was tempted to skim. And maybe it would be best to skim some of the great detail Ramirez goes into, especially when it involves the male politicians (and religious political manoeuvrings).
It is also very easy for me to view the Middle Ages with fresh eyes, since my previous encounters with it have all been through relatively recent books. I am not a historian. This book drew me because of the promise of women kicking against the establishment. And yes, I found them. But more, I found how much of our reason for needing female role models is mostly relatively recent. The Reformation certainly didn’t help, and started the exclusion of women’s writing. But the Victorians are probably most to blame for what we are currently still kicking against, despite the fact we’ve been doing it since at least World War 2 ended. Femina puts all this into perspective, and opens our eyes to what the women of the past went through to assert their rights.
It is not surprising most of the tales of extraordinary women who should be remembered better are a privileged few. Queens, consorts, abbesses and the occasional female king (Jadwiga), were better placed to get their voices heard. And they did, before they were buried by those who came after.
The best parts of this book were, to my mind, the start of each chapter where the author describes how the subject was rediscovered through painstaking research and archaeology, and sometimes through adventures worthy of a spy novel. The pattern of the book then takes us to era of the woman in question, exploring her life and work. This can get somewhat turgid: the author explains the setting and background politics in great detail. I suspect that historians won’t need that, and lay folk will sometimes get bored with it (hence the skimming temptation). But the author does return to the subject and her triumphs, or downfall, and how we should perhaps remember her, in a good summary each time.
This is a valuable book for all sorts of reasons, not least the attention to detail given to women whose work has been all but buried with them thanks to the political whim of later historians. It’s a tour de force, as you can tell from the pages of acknowledgements and the endnotes. If you are reading on Kindle, rest assured that 27% of the book is taken up by the reference material. It’s 5 stars for importance and 4 stars for a good read, in my assessment. And now I’m quite a fan of Hildegard, and the Cathars. I think I’d have joined the heretics if I’d lived then....more
As you might expect from the tagline ‘Who should be held responsible for public wrongs?’, this is a thought-provoking book.
When We Return is written iAs you might expect from the tagline ‘Who should be held responsible for public wrongs?’, this is a thought-provoking book.
When We Return is written in a distant third person omniscient, to the extent it often feels like a journalist’s account. That in turn helps the reader maintain some sort of distance from the real agonies of separation that afflict most of the protagonists. It also provides space for your own thoughts and opinions on the subject matter, allowing you to connect with your own experiences, however third hand.
The scenes shift between the experiences of Miles, a holocaust avoider, and his horrific journey out of Poland to the relative safety of Peru. He starts to rebuild his life from scratch, a reminder to anyone who reads about refugees that these people were ‘someone’ in their communities before everything went horribly wrong for them – through no fault of their own. Wrong place, wrong time. Otilia has fled Peru to the relative safety of the USA , a little later than Miles – who eventually does the same, to escape the totalitarian government and the rebels creating utter mayhem in the opposite direction. Although that is the enabling background, the root is really the greed of Otilia’s extended family and the failure of local officials to apply the law. It’s complicated, as these things usually are.
Complex is a better word for the answer to the author’s question. How far do you go back to right wrongs, to create reparation? I well remember a tour of Krakow’s Jewish quarter: my host (a professor at the University) explained the difficulties when someone comes back to say this apartment or those properties belonged to my family and were stolen by the Nazis. Those apartments are now lived in by local families, who have made their own payments for the right to live there. And a growing issue in the UK (in among many other self-inflicted problems) is what to do about reparation for our involvement in the slave trade, and all the other wealth gained by the first world – on the backs of the resources and hard work of what is seen as the third world.
In creating this novel, Eliana Tobias manages to untangle several valid and worthy stories, where people have had wrongs done to them, but where reparations may or may not be forthcoming. Where do you draw the line? What is fair? How can people come to terms with their treatment at the hands of those in power, however long ago.
This is an excellent novel, with a more or less satisfactory ending for all. But it will live with you long after you’ve finished....more
The Physicists’ Daughter is an orphan, but she’s a grown woman, working at a factory making secret who-knows-what to help the war effort. Having been The Physicists’ Daughter is an orphan, but she’s a grown woman, working at a factory making secret who-knows-what to help the war effort. Having been raised by two deeply scientific parents, she has trouble relating to her peers. This sounds a lot like Lessons in Chemistry, but with a completely different approach and outcome. This is a thriller, and a mystery, although we are given a few more clues than Justine gets thrown at her. We get some insights into one, or more, people who may be goodies, baddies, or something in between.
This is a masterfully constructed web of deceit and withheld information. The most interesting part of the clue-laying lies with Justine’s clandestine visits to her estranged aunt, who seems just a little bit paranoid. And just because she’s paranoid, doesn’t mean that people aren’t out to get her – and to Justine through her.
And Justine does make friends – through the unlikely joint interest in maths – of a girl with little or no schooling who is as bright as they come. The balance of plot that runs through both of their lives helps to keep this tale from the dry, uninteresting one it could have been, to a vibrant, girls-still-want-to-have-fun even in the war years. With the threat of a defeat looming over US heads, everyone wants the work the women make–or do they?
I had one quibble: the code Justine solved was too easy (the author made too long an explanation of it). Then I remembered that I’d used the same code in an MG book. I just assumed every boy and girl knew of it by age 10. Maybe they don’t get educated in these things these days. Anyway, Justine had translated the code into letters from pin pricks in a panel to get to the easy bit. So she’d passed the real test first.
So, yet another excellent book from my reading list this year. The Physicists’ Daughter is a truly interesting, intelligent, historical mystery with a touch of romance. I’m looking forward to the author’s next book (which may be a sequel)....more
I like boats, and small ships, and sailing, and messing about by and in the sea. But whilst I appreciate Britain’s maritime history, I do not considerI like boats, and small ships, and sailing, and messing about by and in the sea. But whilst I appreciate Britain’s maritime history, I do not consider myself much of a seafarer. And I’ve never been good at British History – enough to tackle quiz questions, is about it.
So The Ship Asunder, Tom Nancollas’s gallop through several thousand years of Britain’s association with boats, is full of surprises.
The author takes us through the history of ships and British sea-faring by deconstructing boats and identifying the history within them. Who knew that there was a pre-Roman boat discovered in the mud at Dover, carefully preserved in the Ashmolean Museum of all places – about as far from the sea as you can get in Britain. And a large trumpet used for inter-ship (and intra-ship) communication in pre-medieval times, salvaged from the muddy banks of the Thames, and now in the Museum of London?
Starting at the prows of the boats and ending past the propellers and back onto the land that provided the wood, Nancollas strings together a fascinating mix of archaeology, fable and record. He treads paths and describes ancient and modern side by side. I am tempted to try to locate the building in Caithness that uses the hull of a ship as its rafters. He does it by satellite mapping, and street view, and so can any of us, if we look hard enough.
Among the sea souvenirs there are plenty of human stories. Inventors, sailors, rich men, poor men, beggar men, some women. He also gives a clear account of Britain’s rich past in slavery. We got rich on this trade, no doubt about it. Just as we did on exploiting all the rest of the ‘Empire’ countries. We owe them big time.
Sometimes the text jumps about a bit. Abrupt changes of subject when you think it’s a follow-on. This may be the ebook, and the paperback layout may solve the problem. But I did have to stop several times to work out where the thread had gone. Nevertheless, it’s a good read, an artistic piece of delving, and a useful reference work too. For those who like to know how much of the ebook is references – 6%. There are also useful footnotes in the text, too....more
This is a biographically-based fictional account of the outstanding Russian sniper in the Second World War, who was paraded out to the USA to try to gThis is a biographically-based fictional account of the outstanding Russian sniper in the Second World War, who was paraded out to the USA to try to get them to get involved in the second front. And it's brilliant, as might be expected from Kate Quinn. Full review to follow, probably....more
Vienna is a city I love. I particularly remember my encounter with the art of Egon Schiele in the Belvedere one Remembrance Sunday, some time in the 1Vienna is a city I love. I particularly remember my encounter with the art of Egon Schiele in the Belvedere one Remembrance Sunday, some time in the 1990s. So I was gripped by the idea behind this book. As I read, I was fascinated by the way the author had transcribed the facts about Schiele and his women into the story. As with the marvellous I, Mona Lisa, I wondered how much had been pieced together, and how much simply imagined. In fact, the author gives a good account of the research behind each of the women, and the events in Schiele's life. I enjoyed reading that almost as much as the book. This is vibrant stuff. All of life is here, seen through the eyes of the four women, providing a view of four aspects of pre-war Vienna. It helped me understand the politics of the time, and why the assassination of Arch-Duke Ferdinand precipitated the World War, which had seemed to me to be mostly about the mud in the Somme (and other places). I knew a little of Schiele's involvement in the war from what I'd read of his life, so that haunted me through the book, especially with Adele's leap from pre- to post-war narrative. The women are wonderful, and fit the artworks of them so well. The voices are totally right, and the tangled web of Schiele's lovelife seems absolutely believable. It's another brilliant book. Read it!...more
Loading...
