BfK 14+Secondary/Adult continued


plates and slices of bread, breaking chairs and screaming. Idly fascinated at first, Davie’s friend Geordie dismisses it, “It’s just Joe bliddy Quinn being Joe bliddy Quinn.” But for Davie, aching and silently raging at the loss of his younger sister, it becomes a compulsion, causing him to seek out the new young priest in the parish, who is himself in the grip of a loss of faith, and leading him back to Joe Quinn’s house, where, beside the poltergeist and Joe, there are chip butties and Joe’s seductive young mam, dancing to underground music from California. It is a wonderful brief tale, in which so much is contained and in which the heights and depths of experience are


conveyed by a characteristic


delicate balance of reticence and eloquence: the quiet sadness of Davie’s conversation with his mam about his sister; and the roaring, anything is possible, excitement of a wild kick-about: “In dashing through the field and playing with the ball we


Toffee HHHH


Sarah Crossan, Bloomsbury, 416pp, 9781408868126, £12.99, hbk


Sarah Crossan’s latest verse novel explores more aspects of life at the edges of modern society. Allison has fled her abusive father and found a temporary home with Marla, an old woman living with Alzheimer’s: ‘I am a girl trying to forget. Marla is a woman trying to remember.’ Told


through


change ourselves. We change the world. Yeeess!” And then there is Dave McKean. This is, once more, a tour de force of illustration, in which the page comes alive. Faces change before our eyes: Davie is sometimes the boy he has been, sometimes the youth he is, and sometimes the young man he will be. The priest’s hair and forehead seem to grow higher and heavier so that it is not just the drink but the weight of his doubt that makes him droop and sway. McKean’s illustrations speak where Almond’s text remains silent. In Almond’s text, Joe Quinn’s mam, discovered sun- bathing, quickly slips her dress straps up on to her shoulders again. In McKean’s illustrations she has only one strap on, and the movement of the single strap comes in three slow stages and seen over her shoulder, looking at the young priest’s face, it is clearly to be seen as an act of sexual invitation. Almond and McKean are so well met you wonder that they have the same first name. What uncanny forces might be at work? Is it a marriage made in heaven or hell? Or is it just one of those marvellous events that sometimes happen on this earth and for which we should give thanks. CB


Allison’s eyes, the novel is about, among other things, how we might understand and acknowledge our ties for someone who has yet damaged us deeply – Alison’s face is literally branded by her father’s cruelty – and also how the old and vulnerable may be treated by the rest of us who may be concerned most with our own comfort and security. There are few writers who have Crossan’s forensic ability to expose human cruelty, not so much as active evil or


villainy


but as indifference to the needs of others or the deflection of our own incapacity and instability onto those who need our care. Both perpetrators and victims are ‘people running away or struggling to stay put’, as Allison puts it in another context. And there are a number of such people here, damaging themselves and others, in ways


great or small, from the


violence of Allison’s father, to Marla’s infrequently visiting son Donal, paying no attention to her as a person, only as a burdensome responsibility. If this is one of the novel’s strengths, then the other is Crossan’s careful demonstration, in the development of Allison and Marla’s undeliberate friendship, of how salvation can be found in enjoying and caring for each other. CB


How To Make Friends With The Dark


HHHH


Kathleen Glasgow, Rock The Boat (Oneworld Publications), 420pp, 978 1 78607 564 2, £8.99, pbk


Tiger and her mother and


the live alone loving intensity of the


relationship-particularly her mother’s overprotectiveness-sometimes chafes. When her mother dies suddenly and unexpectedly of a brain aneurysm, however, Tiger’s loss and guilt are all-consuming. This novel is a paen to grief, exploring the emotional and practical repercussions of tragedy in an affecting and believable way. Since Tiger is legally a minor, she is


put into the care of the state and the uneven quality of that care is made abundantly clear. Her best friend’s family are legally


prevented from


caring for her and so she is placed among strangers-other young people with cruel or shattered lives. The first section of the book deals with a short parade of foster homes, with all the accompanying uncertainties and their often institutionalised environments. Tiger’s grief resonates


and although the writing is highly charged and deeply felt it is also occasionally frustratingly cyclical. This extended


examination of


loss causes a feeling of inbalance in the book as the second part moves on-initially, at least- with unnerving swiftness. Tiger’s father and half- sister are suddenly discovered and she is placed in the care of the latter- an alcoholic with a controlling and abusive boyfriend. Tiger is able to return to school but, after an assault on another


student, must attend


their Grief Counselling group, where she is surprised to see several of the most notorious bullies. Events and revelations follow thick and fast and can overwhelm the narrative-just as Tiger is overwhelmed, perhaps. There is no question that this is a courageous and powerfully


written


book which will move readers to tears. Glasgow deals with a range of bleak topics, so this is not for the faint-hearted, but it may well provide insights for those who have travelled down the same paths. VR


Pulp HHHH


Robin Talley, HQ, 978-1848457126, 406pp, £7.99 pbk


This book has two parallel protagonists. Abbey Zimet is a high school senior (in her last year) in Washington DC in 2017. Janet Jones (destined to become Janet Smith) occupies the same position in 1955. Both young women are lesbian. Naturally they face very different responses to their sexual orientation, acceptance


in


2017, persecution in 1955. Both Abbey and Janet are writers.


For a class project Abbey writes a story featuring


lesbian characters.


She is prompted to tell this story by reading Janet’s one and only novel, entitled Women of the Twilight Realm.


30 Books for Keeps No.236 May 2019


The book was of course written and published under a significant nom de plume, Marian Love.


Abbey is in a


difficult family situation. Her parents are on the point of separating, though this remains unstated. She is also in a tricky relationship with Linh, who was formerly Abbey’s girlfriend. Driven by these difficulties, Abbey becomes obsessed with a quest. She must discover the true identity of Marian Love. The novel now poses two questions. Can Abbey accomplish her quest? And if she does, what will she discover? Talley has set herself a challenging


throughout


task, to focus on two very different times, to depict each of them and its mores convincingly and to unite the two into a single narrative. She meets this challenge in a very effective manner – a genuine tour de force. Talley also captures an important truth about the act of literary composition. Writers absorb themselves in the details of the world they create, and use that world as a locus in which they can resolve or at least evade the complexities of real-world life. Talley’s book holds a great appeal any young


for different person who feels from the norm, sexually,


psychically or in any other way. This reviewer has one misgiving about Talley’s excellent


novel, not so


much a misgiving as an unfulfilled expectation. She writes of the so- called Lavender Scare which took place in 1955. It was a savage witch- hunt aimed at any ‘sexual deviant’. This was a campaign fully as dark and cruel as Senator Joe McCarthy’s persecution of the socialist American minority. A whole book could have been made from this largely neglected episode. Perhaps it will be. RB


My Secret Lies With You HHHH


Faye Bird, Usborne, 256pp, 978 1 474 95824 0, £7.99 pb


Things are pretty miserable for


seventeen year old Cait, the principal narrator of Faye Bird’s novel. The death of her Dad, eighteen months ago, is still knife-sharp. He’d been the kind of Dad who could always make things right. Then he was gone – knocked off his bike by a car. Most of the time, she hates her Mum’s new boyfriend, Johnny; she isn’t looking forward to a couple of weeks with the two of them in the holiday cottage Mum’s booked on the Llyn Peninsula in North Wales. Nothing but sheep and mountains. Meanwhile, friends Mia and Jade may be only a text message away, but Mia’s soaking up the sun in Ibiza and Jade’s in Malta. Harlech isn’t a promising alternative. Cait’s quite shy, but Marko, the boy


staying next door with his Dad, turns out to be welcoming. He even seems to be a good listener, which Cait likes though at the same time it makes her nervous about the impression she’s making. Marko introduces her to his long-time local friends, Ifan and Hannah. They’re okay, though Ifan seems preoccupied while Hannah


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32