A bunch of books I’ve read recently

It’s that time again when I look at a big pile of books I’ve been intending to review, and don’t really have a full-post’s worth of things to say… so here they all are, in a round up. Hope you’re all reading something fun at the moment.

Because of Jane (1913) by J.E. Buckrose

I have a few books by the near-forgotten Buckrose and really like her writing. My hope is that one of them will elevate itself above the others and be good enough for the British Library Women Writers series – but it won’t be Because of Jane. As I’ve written previously, Buckrose is very good on puncturing egos and awkwardness and social manners. She is much more formulaic and less interesting when it comes to romance – and there is a lot of romance in Because of Jane. The central one is ‘spinster’ Beatrice who reluctantly lives with her brother and his wife and daughter, and who begins to fall for a local widower, Stephen Croft.

“They were married at a registrar’s office. That always seems to me a little like buying machine-made underclothing. Doesn’t it to you?”

“Yes – no – I don’t know,” said Beatrice.

“And so,” said Miss Thornleigh, pursuing her train of thought, “it didn’t last. It was never likely to last.”

“I cannot think that Mrs Stephen Croft died because she was married at the registrar’s,” objected Beatrice in common justice.

“Well, perhaps not,” conceded Miss Thornleigh. “But it was a bad start.”

That was one excerpt I enjoyed, but sadly Because of Jane doesn’t have that much in this tone – and a lot more in Jane’s voice. Jane is Beatrice’s seven-year-old niece and the sort of irritating novelistic child who says things with wide-eyed innocence that sum up what other are truly feeling. The book was fine, but rather worse than the other two Buckroses I’ve read.

The ABC of Cats (1960) by Beverley Nichols

Reading the Meow week was the reason I started The ABC of Cats, but I didn’t finish it. He goes through the alphabet, writing about a different aspect of cats for each letter (e.g. Y is Yawn). It’s all delightful, and Nichols does cats extremely well – he is expert on their behaviours, habits, wishes without every getting saccharine or fey. It’s one for cat lovers certainly, and enjoyable if only for his apparent belief that he has invented the cat flap.

Things I Didn’t Throw Out (2017) by Marcin Wicha

Translated from Polish by Marta Dziurosz, this is a non-fiction reflection on Marcin’s mother’s life through the books that she left behind. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they are mostly Polish books – Emma by Jane Austen is the only one I’ve read. The book is also a lens to look at post-war Poland and how the Communist regime affected those who lived there.

I think Wicha writes really well, in sparse, curious way. But I struggle to know what to write about this book except that it’s unusual and beguiling – and probably better if you have a good knowledge of this period in Polish history and literature already, which I do not.

The First To Die at the End (2022) by Adam Silvera

I thought Silvera’s young adult novel They Both Die at the End was a brilliant premise worked out really well – it’s a world where people get a phone call from DeathCast on the day they will die, but aren’t told precisely when or how. And now he’s written The First To Die at the End, a prequel set on the first night that DeathCast is launched.

As before, there are two teenage boys who meet for the first time that day and spend it together – waiting for death (though I won’t spoil whose). It does feel a little like a repeat of the same sort of thing, done a little less compelling and with some extraneous side characters taking up some of the 550 pages. But it’s still a brilliant idea, and Silvera writes very engagingly. I didn’t remember the original book well enough to get all the references or Easter eggs, though did appreciate the two boys from that book appearing here briefly as their younger selves.

History Is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera #ABookADayInMay No.11

History Is All You Left Me: The much-loved hit from the author of No.1  bestselling blockbuster THEY BOTH DIE AT THE END! a book by Adam Silvera.

Today I finished the audiobook of History Is All You Left Me (2017) by Adam Silvera. I first came across his writing when I stumbled upon the title They Both Die At The End. It shows the power of a good title, because that made me read and race through the book – and, in fact, I’ve recently read its prequel too. I loved the premise and the inventive world he built. In History Is All You Left Me, though, we are in a very-much-entirely-real world.

Silvera writes young adult books, most (all?) with queer teenagers as their heroes. This book is no different – it is told by Griffin, a 17-year-old whose first love, Theo, has recently died. They were best friends for a long time before realising that they were (a) gay and bi respectively, and (b) very into each other.

Things are even more complicated than that, though, as Theo and Griffin weren’t dating when Theo died – he was, in fact, away at college and dating a guy called Jackson. The book jumps between ‘history’, i.e. the times when Theo was alive and the journey through their relationship, and the present day. In the present day, Griffin is reluctantly getting to know Jackson. He is very protective over his own grief, and doesn’t feel that Jackson has a right to feel the loss as deeply – though gradually his opinion changes.

There are a few twists along the way, and some things that aren’t twists but just aren’t revealed at first – such as the way in which Theo died – so I shan’t mention them yet.

The other major element of the novel to mention is that Griffin has OCD. I don’t know enough about it to comment in depth, but it did seem like he had compulsions rather than obsessions. He hates odd numbers (except seven), and has to be on the left-hand side when he’s walking with someone. But I don’t remember mention of obtrusive thoughts and worries, or fears for what will happen if these compulsions aren’t obeyed. Again, I am far from an expert, and I appreciated that it was part of Griffin’s character rather his whole character, but some pieces felt a bit lightly touched on to me.

So, there are some heavy themes in the book – and I think, for a teenage audience, they are dealt with well. Griffin is deeply immature, so his reactions and responses are unsurprisingly emotionally immature. He struggles to understand that anybody but himself can be affected, and even before Theo’s death he can only really see his own perspective. I wasn’t sure if this was all intended to be an accurate portrayal of a teenager or if Silvera’s audience are likely to be on Griffin’s side in everything. Perhaps both. (The audiobook is read well by Tom Picasso, though it wasn’t always very easy to tell the difference between the main cast of teenage boys.)

I thought it was a good book, but perhaps I am a bit too old to read it. The brilliant concept of They Both Die At The End elevated that YA book into something that would appeal to me. Without that, this one was enjoyable but not a stand-out for me. For teenagers, I suspect it’ll be a much bigger hit.

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera (25 Books in 25 Days: #21)

Apparently I’ve reached the age where I no longer remember what I’ve read. Today’s book was supposed to be The Listerdale Mystery by Agatha Christie – a collection of short stories. I kept thinking the stories were familiar. I realised I’d seen one as a play. And then I thought maybe some of them had been included in other collections. I was 60 pages in when I decided to look it up in my reading journal… and, yes, I read it in 2014. I even wrote a little bit about it. Sigh.

So, I put that one aside (as each story was becoming rather disappointing, once I remembered the outcome) – and chose They Both Die at the End (2017) by Adam Silvera as today’s book. Which was sort of cheating, because I only had about 80 pages left to read – but needs must.

I bought They Both Die at the End after reading a review on Gilt and Dust that made it sound really intriguing, and I recommend heading there for a fuller review than I’m going to be able to give in my #25Booksin25Days haste. The brilliant title caught my attention, and the premise won me over. It’s set in a world that is identical to ours – except people receive a phone call on the day they will die, telling them that they have less than 24 hours to live. It might be a minute, it might be 23 hours and 59 minutes. They don’t know. (Has Silvera been reading Muriel Spark’s Memento Mori, I wonder? I am trying to persuade Rachel to let us compare these two books on ‘Tea or Books?’ – watch this space.)

As the novel opens, the two teenage boy protagonists are just receiving the phone call. One is shy, geeky Mateo, who is already sad because his father is in a coma. The other is Rufus, who grew up in a foster home and is now in a gang (albeit a generally amiable one – except when he’s pulverising his ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend, which he is doing when he gets the Death-Cast call). Silvera does a good job of making us like Rufus after this unpromising beginning.

The chapters alternate between Mateo and Rufus, with chapters thrown in from other viewpoints when necessary. They meet through the Last Friend app, and the novel tells of their growing friendship, all while waiting to find out when and how they will die. Like, as Silvera writes in his acknowledgements, a dark game of Jenga.

This is teenage fiction, and I partly read it in preparation for our latest ‘Tea or Books?’ episode on exactly that. So it’s very easy reading, and I expect it would appeal to the heartstrings of early teens far more than to this cynical 33 year old. But I still really enjoyed racing through it – mostly because of the extremely clever concept, which is sustained and explored with great ingenuity. If Silvera has other concepts up his sleeve this impressive, then I’ll probably find myself reading more of ’em.