Tag: reading

Simon Winchester, Exactly (William Collins 2018)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40037112-exactly?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=gFAM49o7Yk&rank=1

This is the exciting true-life history of precision engineering, beginning with establishing the difference between the concept of ‘accuracy’ and the concept of ‘precision’.

The book features a fascinating structure, being enchaptered according to ascending measures of precision. A 1/2 inch ‘tolerance’ in shoes, e.g., is acceptable, but for the Hubble telescope, a measurement error on the mirror (later repaired) 1/50 the thickness of a hair rendered its images from outer space useless.
The remarkable Antikythera Mechanism was supposed to predict eclipses, but when tested in modern times proved to be very inaccurate at it. Interestingly, it never occurred to ancient Greeks to use it as a clock.
The centuries long struggle to measure longitude, the time difference between a ship and homeport, was finally solved by the British success of Harrison, driving the success of the British Empire. But the story shows that a mechanism has to be both duplicable and manufacturable at a reasonable cost.

John ‘Iron-mad’ Wilkinson’s patent for boring cannon barrels and James Watts steam engine fuelled the industrial revolution.

Henry Maudsley’s micrometre measured the actual dimensions of an object. ‘The ideal of precision’ we owe to Maudsley.

In early America muskets were not made with interchangeable parts but had to be repaired individually by a blacksmith. This led to defeat at the Battle of Bladensburg in 1814. Humans will inevitably err; precise machines will not.

Galileo had first noted the relationship between length and time, as a pendulum swing rate depended on the length of the pendulum.

Eventually, mankind developed the concept of ‘traceability’ – the ability to connect time to an official US atomic clock. James Clerk Maxwell discovered that constants in nature were to be found at the atomic level i.e., the wavelength of light.

There is an interesting appendix on the history of measurement. A six-year survey on the length of the meridian from Dunkirk to Barcelona divided by 10 became the standard post-revolutionary French meter, then cast in a platinum étalon.
However, this was before continental shift was understood, and the measure of the meridian was eventually found to be off by 2/10 of a millimetre. It took 7 decades for the international community to agree on new standards.
I borrowed this book at my scientist sister’s house and only read up to page 124, but I can’t wait to read the rest of it someday.

Andy Weir, The Martian (2014, this edition Ballantine Books 2014)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18007564-the-martian?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=CJG9KsLXxn&rank=1

A nail-biting techno-thriller and story of Man’s triumph over Nature

Over Christmas I watched the 2015 Matt Damon-starring film The Martian with my sister’s family. My nephews said, ‘You know that bit in Apollo 13 (after ‘Houston we have a problem’) where they dump everything out on the table? They made a whole movie out of that.’ A whole movie about finding ingenious techy solutions to life-threatening situations in outer space. My niece gave me the book for Christmas, which my sister says is one of her favourites. According to her, the science in the story is all accurate, and she should know, as she has been nicknamed ‘the Science Lady’.
Botanist and engineer Mark Watney is accidently left behind on the planet when a NASA mission to Mars has to abort due to a severe sandstorm. Though his shipmates think he’s dead, he is very much alive and manages to survive in a hugely hostile environment thanks to high-tech equipment left behind by NASA missions to the planet and a series of MacGyver-type ‘tinfoil and gum’ solutions. The science behind each new strategy is explained.
He has to reinvent the wheel in order to eat (he manufactures his own H2O and soil culture in order to grow potatoes), communicate with Earth (he spells out messages in rocks for the satellite cameras to see) and get around (NASA has left extra spacesuits and transport vehicles, and he gets his energy from previously erected solar panels).
But it’s not just the science. Watney’s survival has as much to do with his strength of character, his sense of humour and his sheer chutzpah as it has to do with his engineering knowledge. This makes it not just a techno-thriller, but also a story about human fortitude and the triumph of Man over Nature.
Unlike Cast Away, it is not boring at all. It’s full of nail-biting suspense. Many of the chapters begin ‘I’m f***ed’, before proceeding to outline some new ingenious fix. It is peppered with scraps of Watney’s humour, to which his shipmates also attribute his survival.
Would be loved by Science Ladies (and gentlemen and nieces and nephews) and everyone else, too.

Writers’ Retreat UK, Super Shorts (Boxtree Media 2017)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/126098367-super-shorts?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=8pVsTADTSR&rank=1

It’s handy to have a short story collection handy, for bedtime reading when cracking a book seems like too much work.
Flash fiction and very short stories are challenging to the writer, in that the reader’s attention needs to be grabbed quite quickly, yet the work must contain every element of a complete story—plot, climax, denoument. The thriftiness of the wordcount means that every word, every sentence has to count, hopefully resulting in a real jewel.
Some think of a flash fiction piece as a little snapshot. Others believe a snapshot is not enough. It has to be a complete story.
Think of Hemingway’s famous six-worder:
For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.
The whole story is in there, read between the lines.
This collection contains 31 short stories, the winners of Writers’ Retreat UK’s 2017 Short, Short Story Competition, in a variety of styles, few over 1000 words.
The stories include a riveting rhinoceros-horn-smuggling chase scene, a story about depression remarkable in its depth of insight and one about a man craving to eat his wife’s leg.

Tony Bassett, Seat 97 (The Book Folks 2023)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/134172257-seat-97?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=1EujyJSDj8&rank=1

Journalist Nick Colton and his wife Greta sit next to a man at a Loretta Kay concert at the Royal Albert Hall. He tells them he has switched seats with someone to sit here, Row L Seat 97. Just then, shots ring out. David Barron, the man in Seat 97, a wealthy financial consultant, is dead.
I really like how, about three-fourths into the story, just when it’s getting almost too complicated to follow, we are given a summary of the suspects, clues and alibis through the mouths of the police in a team operational briefing.
It’s not all Colton’s point of view. There are numerous characters—as in real life, there are whole teams of journos, cops and suspects—but the only confusing ‘head-hopping’ (switching points of view mid-scene) is in chase scenes, which I think is appropriate and effective. The focus is on plot, and not so much characterisation. The main Protagonist is Colton, and his character is well developed.
I love books where the working lives of the characters are portrayed realistically. So often detective stories feature completely unrealistic policemen. Bassett’s novels are exemplary on this point. His policemen have realistically cop-like dialogue and avoid clichés (donuts, etc). I am not a cop, but the accounts of police procedure seem true-to-life.
As an ex-journalist, I can credit Bassett’s portrayal of the news desk of a daily newspaper with verisimilitude. One verisimilitude quibble: I have never heard of a hack asking for someone’s birth certificate. I can spot some nods to news events in London. The naughty minister’s story reminds me of the David Mellor scandal in 1992.
His plots develop very much in the way that (I imagine) police investigations do. First the cops learn this, leading them to that inquiry. Then they discover more. Thus, the pacing is comfortable, slowly developing, then a rush of drama. As in real life, some of the leads don’t pan out, which gives it a true-to-real-life feel.
There is sufficient scene-setting. The writing style is fluid; the dialogue is lively and believable. It was a genuine pleasure to read.

Colleen McCullough, The Song of Troy (Orion Paperbacks 1999)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/480173.The_Song_of_Troy?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=ipcTjpDWxN&rank=1

The story of the Trojan War just had to be told by Coleen McCullough. She is so steeped in ancient Greece that every cultural detail is perfect.
She demystifies the age of gods and heroes, bringing to vivid life even the mysteries of antiquity, when snakes lived under altars. Olympians play no role here, except as the justification humans give for their actions. Peleus’ seduction of Thetis, for example, is painted as a ‘contest between the New Religion (e.g. Poseidon-worship) and the Old (e.g. Nereus-worship)’.
Each chapter is told from one character’s point of view, so, we hear the story through the eyes of Paris, Odysseus, Achilles, Agamemnon, Helen. This allows for intimate snippets of characterisation which we don’t get in Homer. For example, Hektor sees in Helen’s eyes the hope that her prince might become the Heir, which he dismisses: ‘Time would teach her that Paris wanted no part of any responsibility.’ Helen bemoans, ‘Was there ever a fate worse for a woman than to know that not one person in her life is worthy of her?’
The story of Agamemnon and Achilles’ fight over captives is very different from the Homeric version, as is Patrokles wearing Achilles’ armour. I rather think I prefer the Homeric versions. The fight scenes are breath-taking.
We are treated to a version of the Trojan War, not as myth, but as a web of competition between the rulers of maritime powers and the personal vendettas involved. Paris’ abduction of Helen is payback for Telamon’s abduction of Priam’s sister Hesione, for example.

Siôn Scott-Wilson, What We Leave Behind (Deixis Press 2023)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/96178833-what-we-leave-behind?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=5mGR4BbxAL&rank=1

Graverobbers Sammy and Facey dig for their living amid the squalor of 18th C London London.
Carrying contraband liquor into Portsmouth Harbour, Sammy and Facey manage to evade the Tide Surveyor. Sammy’s young adopted son, ship’s boy Pure John, has been taken to London, and Sammy’s wife Rosamund is anxious. They need to find the lad before he is hanged for a deserter.
They are pulled into the search for a fabled gemstone. The rare Eye of Brahma black diamond, a ferronière (to be worn on the forehead), was worn into the grave by a Mrs Edith Belmont, making its retrieval within the skillset of the two graverobbers. The mission is all the riskier in that the deceased died of the infectious Asiatic Cholera. And yet the blue tinge of corpse’s skin wipes off with vinegar, and the stone is a fake.
They are drawn into not just a thieving escapade but solving a mystery involving the young heir, William Belmont. Local jewellers come under suspicion as do members of the Belmont staff, Jenkins, Nellie, Mrs Stride and Mrs Parkes.
Rosamund enters the Belmont household, where a poisoner maybe lurks, as governess, and Sammy and Facey enter as plasterers.
Saving the boy means making a sacrifice. The clock-ticking rescue, involving use of a Dandy Horse (early bicycle) and a last-minute crowbar, is quite exciting.
The Voice, mostly that of Sammy, sounds quite authentically 18th century, down to the flowery formality of everyday speech, which is occasionally almost humorous. Even street criminals address each other as ‘Mr’ and ‘Mrs’, and the dissecters of human cadavers discourse courteously. It dips into the mysterious (and morbid and seedy) world of graverobbing, and we even learn some street gang slang—e.g. ‘karker’ (carcass), ‘dipper’ (pickpocket), ‘stretcher’ (lie), ‘downy’ (shrewd), ‘mazer’ (puzzle), ‘neb’ (nose) ‘glims’ (eyes). The jocular, colloquial banter between the characters sounds authentic.
A beautiful book, which follows on from Some Rise by Sin. This review first appeared in Historical Novels Review.

Douglas Bullis, Book of Days (Kindle 2022)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/174703621-book-of-days-french-social-history-1003-1975

6 stars. This book is a masterpiece in so many ways. 1. It is ‘street-level history’, which we rarely see in literature. 2. It is beautifully written. 3. It is, as far as I know, a unique—Concept. 4. It also has quite a unique methodology—relying on visual material.
Films and novels show us how kings and queens lived, but what about peasants? Interestingly, because so little is written about their daily lives, this book uses as its sources ‘visual depictions rather than written texts’. Books of hours and stained-glass windows, produced for religious purposes, inadvertently give us insights into daily secular life.
Bullis paints vignettes of French villagers at certain points in history from 1003 to 1975. Each chapter is a day in the life of a member of the (real historical) Lefief family. A wonderful, wonderful—and as far as I know, unique—Concept.
For example:

The world has not ended, and everywhere people are building churches. In the village of Fougerolles, the land is cleared by peasants who then take the name of Lefief.
October 1193. Autumn smells fill the air as villagers labour to prepare for winter. Gonbault Lefief is trying to ensnare a crow when his son arrives home from Crusade.
October 1260. Bread maker Josquin Lefief rises before dawn. After making the day’s loaves, he and his wife cart around a mobile pretzel oven to cater to celebrants of the Consecration.
August 1346. The battle (Crécy) is lost—King Philippe hadn’t reckoned on the prowess of the English longbowmen—and brothel-keeper D’Airelle Lefief prepares his women for their inevitable impending rape.
The level of historical detail in this work is amazing, and yet, it does not read like a dry history book. It is superbly written. There are lyrical descriptions of the village and the nature surrounding it and edifying human dramas among the Lefiefs and other villagers. There are very few named characters, here. Instead, it is a portrait of the entire culture, an intimate glimpse into the world of mediaeval peasants that we rarely see anywhere in literature.
The illustrations alone should bump this to everyone’s ‘must read’ list, and I recommend a luxurious read of the beautiful text.
This fabulous work of research includes beautiful colour and B/W illustrations from over 50 sources. An Addendum tells the story of the imagery in the Crusader’s Bible.
This review first appeared in Reedsy Discovery.

Rosie Archer, The Timber Girls (Quercus Publishing 2022)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60864215-the-timber-girls?ref=nav_sb_ss_1_16

Trixie Smith is fed up working in a greengrocers and playing the piano in a pub at night in Gosport. How is this helping to win the war? she thinks. So, she is on her way to Scotland to join the Women’s Timber Corps. On the ferry she meets Cy, a US soldier from New Orleans on leave.
Training to be a lumberjill is hard work, and Trixie finds that each of her new friends has something they’re running away from. Hen has left a privileged life for the promise of excitement. There must be some story behind Jo’s mercurial moods. And what has caused the bruising on Vi’s arms?
Doing a job that’s vital for the war effort makes women of these girls, while the boys at the front are facing hardship, danger and death.
The dialogue with Cy is a bit stilted, meaning that we don’t really feel the ‘falling in love’ bit, but the conversation among the ‘girls’ is more natural. It’s page 258 before we discover something important about Cy, which I think should have been revealed earlier.
It captures the period and the wartime spirit—that everything was changing, the eagerness to seize opportunities for love and fun because death could be around the corner. Though a lot of the detail is fairly banal stuff, it depicts the living and working lives of women workers, the camaraderie of the shared war effort, the newfound self-satisfaction in doing ‘a man’s job’, sexism and even threats from men. It was interesting to learn about ‘brashing’, ‘snedding’, cross-cut saws and spokeshaves and fretsaws, how to measure a tree’s height, fire and accident prevention, the infernal midges—all the business of forestry and felling trees.
This is a ‘girls at war’ saga, a well written, easy read. This review first appeared in Historical Novels Review.

Susanna Lynley, Christ in the Belly of the Whale (Kindle 2022)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/63231805-christ-in-the-belly-of-the-whale?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=EYsZGYajK2&rank=1

The Gospels announce the ‘goodnews’ of Jesus’ resurrection, but they don’t tell us the story.
Golgotha 14 Nisan 30CE. His uncle and foster father Amos the cloth merchant is among the six at the cross, watching Jeshua’s final suffering. The women of Amos’ family possess the secret of a blue dye ‘from the lightest shade of a bird’s egg to one so rich it rivals lapis for depth and clarity’.
It all began with a pair of chisels.
Amos tells a familiar story from an unfamiliar point of view. Like HBO Rome, the story inserts fictional characters next to the historical ones. This device is handy, seeing as there is so little we know about the historical Jesus.
The title is both catchy and inspired. Jonah—he in the whale’s belly—was a popular symbol for early Christians, representing both pious dissidence and Christ’s burial/resurrection.
It’s sometimes a 21st century take. A history or biography of the historical Jesus would be a different novel and probably impossible to achieve. For example, Amos says the ‘King of the Jews’ sign on the cross was ‘Pilate’s little joke’. We are not used to thinking of Jesus as some kind of contender for the throne. First-century observers would not have found the sign funny at all. Jesus rides in on a donkey to ‘be quiet’. First-century Jews would have recognised the stunt as a restaging of Zech 9:9. Though I myself have studied the historical Jesus for over 20 years, I think this is fine.
Backstory is managed with an admirable light touch and keeps within the Voice of each narrator. I loved Judas Iscariot’s: ‘What I did not know, what I wish I had known, is that he (Jesus) was weak.’ There’s a bit of Telling (not Showing), but the scene-setting is great. The details of the cloth trade are wonderful. The plot is inventive, with added intrigue as the sons of Yehuda the Galilean conspire against the peacemongers. It weaves in more than just the story we already know; it’s fun to read a book about Jesus that’s not all about Jesus. An Epilogue addresses the historicity question, with an impressive Bibliography.
There is no blasphemy, only imagination. Christian readers will love this. YA readers already conversant with the Christian mythology will find familiar people and elements. All will enjoy the lively, down-to-earth, intimate portrayal of everyday life in the 1st century.
This review first appeared in Reedsy Discovery.

Pavel Sanaev, Bury Me Behind the Baseboard (1996, this edition CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform 2014)

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22269461-bury-me-behind-the-baseboard?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=N04ea7NCD8&rank=1

Eight-year-old Sasha introduces himself thus: ‘My mother abandoned me for a blood-sucking midget and hung me around Grandma’s neck like a god-awful heavy cross.’
Grandma alternates between horrible verbal abuse—Sasha ‘stinks’ and is a ‘bastard’, destined to ‘rot away’ before he is 16—and excessive suffocating attention—she picks the seeds out of his grapes; he has to stand on a chair while dressing so his feet won’t get cold and wear woollen tights even in bed; he has to take homeopathic pills; and Grandma is terrified that he might sweat. He is taken to the doctor more often than school. According to Grandma, he has maxillary sinusitis, golden staph, colitis, chronic pancreatitis and intracranial hypertension. He has to take Ephedrin, Conium, colloidal silver, albucid and olive oil.
She says Grandpa will ‘rip out his arms and legs’ if he goes to play at the MREC again. Grandpa, however, is fully hen-pecked and depressed over his situation, unable to escape the harpy’s tongue.
All Sasha lives for is to see Mom, a rare occurrence. She has taken up with a boyfriend, whom Sasha is encouraged to view as an ogre. And fighting with Grandma takes up so much of the time he is allowed to spend with her. When he dies, he wants to be buried not in the cemetery, which frightens him, but behind her baseboard, so he can always see her.
The child’s-eye view of Sasha’s Voice is adorable. It’s Russian, but not overbearingly so and funnier than Dostoyevsky, containing some dream-like magical realism bits.
The truly insane behaviour of Grandma is told through the helpless eyes of the child. I have seen behaviour/parenting like this, which I term ‘crazifying behaviour’, and I’ve struggled to effectively represent it in writing. This parenting style is so crazy that I think Sanaev’s open-eyed, innocent approach is the only way to portray it. This approach stands back, uncommenting, and allows the reader to exclaim, ‘OMG, how insane!’
Though happily Sasha is eventually rescued, it kind of ends with a thud.
It is written in a distinctive style and has been beautifully translated by Konstantin Gurevich and Helen Anderson. The original publication apparently sold over a million copies in Russia, won literary prizes in Russia and Italy and was made into a movie in 2009. It won first in World Literature Today’s November 2014 readers’ poll ‘25 Books That Inspired the World’. This review first appeared in Reedsy Discovery.