Flirty Dancing, by Jenny McLachlan

I loved this book! Despite being at least two times the intended reading age (and the rest), having no interest in dancing at all, not to mention an intense hatred for all TV based search-for-a-star type programming, I still really enjoyed this book.

Bea is little, shy and the wrong shape and she has a curly mass of cloud hair that will not be tamed. Her tight-knit bunch of pre-school friends has fractured somewhere along the road to year 9, and it leaves her and Kat the last two of their gang of four. Pearl is now a Regina George-style queen bee/uber-cow and Betty is one of the kooky art kids that handles school with a large helping of sarcasm and irony.

When the school announces that it will be entering dance groups for a national TV talent show, Bea imagines her and Kat could enter one of their made up routines- but Kat skulks off, guiltily, but undeniably, to form a dance troupe with the popular girls. That leaves Bea with nobody but her three year old sister and her Nan to vent to. When Nan hooks her up with a professional dance tutor and a mystery partner, Bea initially doesn't want to compete- she's too awkward, too shy, it will never work, But the dance partner turns out to be Ollie 'McFittie' Matthews, and the temptation to spend some time with him is just too strong, even if he is Pearl's boyfriend. And after all, Nan has worked so hard to arrange everything...

I loved the evolution of Bea throughout the book, how finding a talent and a passion changed her from a retiring, slump-shouldered shadow into a confident and composed person who was able to stand up for herself and confront the people that had tormented and harassed her. Not only that, but defend others from them too. Her mantra: "Though she is but little, she is fierce" was so spot on. I thought the way she kept reminding herself to be brave was very accurate. McLachlan really did a good job of getting into the head of an insecure school girl; the second guessing why people are being nice to you, the fear of humiliation and praying that nobody notices you. The constant internal monologue was very effective, telling you that that thing you just said was stupid, and your coat is weird and everybody is looking at your spot.

So often it is a cute boy that brings out the best in YA and MG characters, somebody with sultry eyes and tousled hair that can see the beauty in the dork...but Bea found her confidence through dancing, and through being good at something. I liked that she never had to compromise to become the more-confident Bea. I guess Ollie helped, but he was certainly not the main catalyst. I guess I liked that Bea was the author of her own change, and she got to choose who she became, rather than being shaped and moulded by a boy.

A brilliant, funny and heart-warming book about being loyal to your friends, about finding the confidence to be the person that you suspect you really are, and about navigating the tricky territory of secondary school, with its hormones and frenemies and undetected girl gang warfare. It's a brilliant mix of Geek Girl, Angus, Thongs etc and Mean Girls. I'm assuming this year's year 7 haven't seen Mean Girls- because it's as old as them *feels ancient*. It's easy to dismiss books like this as cutesy fluff, but I think that does a disservice to the quality of the characters and the warmth of the story, and the importance of saying YOU ARE NOT ALONE!! SCHOOL IS CRAP FOR LOTS OF PEOPLE!! BEING 13 IS HORRIBLE!!. I especially liked the renegade nudist that was 3 year old Emma, who made me laugh out loud with some of the loopy toddler stuff she said, and the quilting, Topshop-jumpsuit wearing Nan, who always believed in Bea.

The Blind Assassin, by Margaret Atwood

Spanning the economical, political and social turmoil of the entire 20th century, The Blind Assassin is a sprawling epic about the life and times of Mrs Richard Griffiths, formerly Iris Chase. Wife of a rising politician and admired philanthropist, daughter of a well respected businessman, granddaughter of a pioneering entrepreneur, mother of a wreck and sister of a tragic cult novelist, Iris is constantly defined throughout her own story by her relationship to others. It's not that she lacks the intelligence or the judgement to be her own person, it's just that she doesn't know who she is supposed to be. Living through a time of great social change, Iris comes across as lost and abandoned and drifts through her childhood, adolescence and adult life avoiding making decisions or raising her voice, presenting a persona of simple acquiescence and all but sleepwalking through her life.

Born into money but neglected by her eventually alcoholic single-parent father, Iris and her younger sister Laura have the run of their impressive house- checked periodically by household battleaxe Reenie the housekeeper come cook. Iris is one of the few people to fully understand her younger sister- her frank way of speaking, her literal interpretation of language and events, her oddness.  A bit of a metaphysical evangelist, Laura's trusting nature and warped logic cause her many problems throughout the course of her life and certainly play a part in her tragic death.

The novel starts with Laura's death, then expands into the past and the present. Narrated by 80-odd year old Iris some 50 years after Laura's accident/suicide, the plot jumps backwards and forwards through time. Iris slowly reveals more about her childhood, her loveless but financially strategic marriage, her complicated relationship with Laura and her own weakening grasp of life. Much harder and more stubborn in her old age, Iris is almost unrecognisable from the conflicted and mixed up young woman she one was. It seems that it's just her memories that attest to her real identity, and obviously her secrets.

Within the novel are assorted newspaper clippings and reports, and chapters lifted from The Blind Assassin, the only novel by Laura Chase. A scandalous volume on its posthumous publication, the novel sees a socially elevated Woman character engaging in clandestine meetings with a politically charged Man and conducting a passionate, secret and altogether confusing affair. The Woman is assumed by all to represent Laura Chase, and the Man Alex Thomas, a communist fugitive and supposed Bolshevik that the sisters sheltered in the loft after the war and before he disappeared to Spain to join the uprising. Within this (fictional) novel, the Man is also composing an episodic narrative of his own, also entitled The Blind Assassin; a pulpy science fiction affair, featuring the titular blind assassin, sacrificial mute slave girls, ray-gun toting lizard men and besieged Eastern empires. The Woman waits eagerly for each meeting in order to hear more of the story, composed just for her by her borderline abusive fugitive. It sounds crazy and unmanageable, to have three stories going on at once, all with the same name, but it works (how could it not work with Margaret Atwood at the helm?) and more details are revealed about the lives of the Chase sisters through the fictional novel. It has since been recategorised as an unduly forgotten classic, much to elderly Iris' annoyance.

As Iris reflects back on the course of her life, she gradually infuses her memories with truths she knows now that she was unaware of at the time. Her whole history is shredded by hindsight and missed opportunities, which makes her an incredibly powerful and tragic narrator. A pioneer of her generation, Iris struggled to find her way on an unmarked trail. The bitter and shambolic old lady in her tumbledown house is left as the sole survivor of a legacy of shame and secrets, lies and perversions. She's not above hiding a few secrets of her own too, though, the discovery of which throws the whole novel on its head.

I absolutely loved this book. I loved how complex its structure was and how rich the world of the narrative was. The shabby doughnut shop, the knock off holiday decorations from Myra's tat emporium. I loved the details that made present day Iris so real. The way the three Blind Assassins built upon each other's stories and filled in literal and metaphorical blanks was amazing. Iris is such an insanely complicated character- strong in her own way (you would need to be, just to survive a marriage like that) but also guilty of a lot of oversights. I'm not convinced that she always thought she was doing the right thing, even if she learned to convince herself that that was the case. But the reader can't help but sympathise with Iris for all that she lost and all that she's had to live with. There is not one scene in the whole entire book where actual, physical, real life Iris is happy.

Stunning.

The Ladies of the House, by Molly McGrann

This novel begins with plain, middle aged Maria Gillies reading a newspaper article on her way on holiday- three concurrent but separate deaths in an old, neglected house in Mayfair. She's convinced that she's responsible for these deaths, despite having never met any of deceased. The Ladies of the House seems from the beginning to be a murder mystery, rather than the lush and scandalous drama that it is.

The bulk of the story follows the lives of several individuals from the post war era to the present connected in some way to the deceased Arthur Gillies. An ugly but uncommonly charismatic man, Arthur made his money (unbeknown to his timid Italian wife and plain, meek daughter) in brothels; bringing beautiful country and small-town girls to postwar London and turning them into high-class call girls. The book is narrated at times by two such girls; Rita and Annetta, now old and in declining health as they live in the Mayfair house that was so long their workplace. Through flashbacks we find out about their lives in the post war years, their customers and their struggles and comforts. Though his double life is revealed and his legacy explored, Arthur is mostly absent though his lasting influence on the women around him is evident.

The reader spends most of the novel with Rita, now an aged but companionable lady, still advertising in the personals. Though taken care of for life by the estate of Arthur Gillies, she enjoys a bit of work on the side- the independence and fun it provides for her. Rita hasn't exactly led a respectable life, but she's comfortable and happy. Sharp as ever, we learn of her past, her mistakes and successes as she made her own luck in life, paying her dues in the clubs of Soho before securing herself and Annetta on the payroll of Sal, the beautiful madame that took them in all those years ago. Despite the austere climate of Blitzed out London and the sordid nature of their existence, there is a strong, almost palpable bond between matriarch Sal and Rita and Annetta. Sal and her girls develop independence, self-worth, even a certain amount of celebrity through their shrewdly ran business. They live a far more lavish and comfortable life than the factory girls and the War widows. Even after Sal's death, Rita and Annetta stay on with Joseph, Sal's son by her lover and business partner Arthur. After spending his childhood being communally raised by a herd of women, he spends his middle age eating biscuits and riding the buses.

Annetta suffers from advanced dementia now, so her modern presence is slight. Foggy and weak, she escapes frequently, much to Rita's frustration. It's through her memories and flashbacks that we find out about the horrors and loves of her past, her taking under the wing by Rita and her life as a call-girl. Though frail nowadays, Annetta never had the wit or sharpness of Rita. What she demonstrates though is an incredibly strong spirit and mental fortitude; a complete refusal to be beaten. It makes her dementia all the more tragic, though it does reinforce themes of ageing, decay and isolation that run through the book.

The book gives the reader enough choice pieces of information to lead them in the right direction; it suggests, rather than gives away. I was impressed by the pace of this book and the gentle but increasingly gripping style. The plot meanders at first, but as the reader is drawn into the lives of these Ladies of the House, the characters get under the skin. I loved the tone too; the combination of humour and grimness, light and dark really worked well. It gave weight to the themes of poverty and entrapment, but also showed strength and resilience in its characters as they reacted and thrived within the circumstances they had. There's a faded glamour to the novel that is quite irresistible- the details of post Blitz London are rendered with an acute eye for detail and the characters that inhabit it- the girls especially come alive at once. The women are characterised by wiliness, allure and keen minds for business, while the men are simple, hopeless creatures with more money than sense.

The narrative never judges the women- it makes the reader think really; is working in a brothel any worse than working behind the counter at Woolworth's? Checking coats in a nightclub? Any worse than being a housemaid or a cook? Most jobs have unpleasant elements to them, so how is prostitution any different, assuming an individual has chosen to join and remain in the sex industry. The ex call-girls seem to have lived happier, fuller and more fulfilling lives than the forgotten, traditional wife Flavia and the legitimate but ignored Maria. Personally I don't believe this book merely bemoans the lack of options available to women of the post war generation. It acknowledges the differences between all women, and applauds the different tactics that strong women employ to survive. In many ways lasting 40 neglected years in a loveless marriage takes as much guts as plying the trade for 40 years. It celebrates the backbone and the resilience of postwar women and the choices they had to make to survive.

An excellent, surprisingly tender book that lingers in the memory. Written with excellent characterisation and setting, The Ladies of the House is a unique novel, a very personal snapshot of a generation of women.

The Good Son, by Paul McVeigh

The long summer holiday is a time of dread and confusion for 11 year old Mickey Donnelly; fantasist, aspiring actor and in his head, the community trend-setter. Secondary school is looming ever closer, but the cost of a grammar school uniform means that Mickey will be going to his local school, described as one of the roughest in Ireland. His big brother Paddy goes to that school, and he assures Mickey in no uncertain terms that there's no way a "soft, fruity" lad like him will survive there. Deprived of his chance to escape Belfast’s turbulent Ardoyne neighbourhood, Mickey concludes that school is ages away and tries to make the best of his summer; playing with his new dog, Killer and his little sister wee Maggie, running errands for his Mammy and generally keeping out of the way of his drunken and violent Pa whilst trying to avoid getting shot or detonated.

Set during The Troubles, McVeigh's Belfast is raw and brutal, full of paranoia, violence, poverty and fear. The reader understands immediately the claustrophobia and brutality of the life of a Catholic in Northern Ireland in the early 1980s. It's all the more terrifying in this instance because the violence comes from all sides and Mickey is as likely to get hurt by one of his own as one of his enemies. Raids and explosions happen with no warning, and it's never clear who's attacking who at any given time. The author really establishes the paranoid watchfulness of a cornered community; there's always the sense that somebody is spying, listening and waiting to get you. The British, the IRA, the gang of cruel boys that call Mickey gay or your own family that could land you in trouble or get you killed. 

I loved how close-up Mickey's world felt- it was a truly child's eye view of a place and a time that seems very hard to appreciate from an outside perspective. Personally I know next to nothing about the Troubles, so this book was quite a learning experience. It's very much a coming of age narrative, unique though Mickey's personal circumstances are, there are things common to all childhoods; skipping games, 10p mixes and first crushes on next door neighbours. It is a heartwrenching and hugely sympathetic narrative about growing up confused and without the Manual of Life. Just made all the more difficult against a backdrop of Civil War.

I absolutely adored Mickey as a narrator- his voice was so strong and he has absolutely heaps of character. Cheeky, imaginative, insecure, hilariously funny. He wants nothing more than for his family to show that they love him, and to be allowed to be himself. The taunts and jeers of the neighbourhood kids were devastating. Mickey's love for his Mammy and his little sister, and The Wizard of Oz and Grease make him gay in their eyes. Despite their teasing and despite growing up knowing nothing but the poverty and destruction of the Troubles, Mickey has a heart of gold. The passages that show how torn Mickey is between fear and love for his Mammy are genuinely difficult to read. I just wonder how they could have been but for the Troubles. 

I was thoroughly impressed by how this novel manages to be accessible and endearing, relateable on some level to everyone, but it manages to pack a real emotional punch too. Vivid though the setting is, it could quite easily be any childhood spent in a war zone- playing in the bomb-sites, curfews and no-go areas. Much of this book put me in mind of the also excellent Girl at War by Sara Novic- a war seen through the eyes of a child that knows nothing else. I found McVeigh's writing to be absolutely captivating- the plotting is so tight it makes your eyes water, there is not a single line or incident that does not further the reader's understanding of the characters, or the feelings and fears of a community virtually under siege. Very much recommend.