Apples Never Fall (by Liane Moriarty)

(Amazon UK link)

I very much liked the first few books I read by the Australian author Liane Moriarty, so put a couple more on my wishlist. I was given ‘Apples never fall’ for my birthday a year ago; for some reason I didn’t start it until last weekend, but I finished it in just three days despite it being quite a long novel close to 500 pages). 

The story involves the disappearance of a woman in her sixties called Joy. She’s married to Stan, and they have four adult children: Amy, Logan, Troy and Brooke. The day she vanished, she sent a mysterious text message to all four, but they can’t figure out what it means - and begin to wonder if someone else sent it. Joy and Stan used to run a tennis coaching business, although they have now retired. All four of their children played tennis to quite a high standard when they were younger.

After nearly a week without hearing from Joy, a police report is filed and an investigation starts.  We’re taken through the questions asked, the theories that abound, and the suspicions that gradually deepen. Has Joy been kidnapped? Has she had an accident? Is she even alive…?  

The book is very cleverly written, with chapters set either ‘now’ or the previous Autumn, progressing forward. So we see questions asked ‘now’, and then flash back to a family scene or incident from a few months earlier which may (or may not) shed some light on what is going on. 

Much of the story revolves around a young woman called Savannah who arrives on Joy and Stan’s doorstep in the ‘September’ section, very early in the book. She’s drenched, she’s crying, and she has a scratch on her face - she tells them that her boyfriend hit her, and that she jumped in a random taxi then knocked on the door of a house that had lights on, and looked friendly. 

Joy is a kind-hearted, motherly person who finds her empty nest and retirement quite difficult to handle. So she takes Savannah in, feeds her, and lets her sleep in Amy’s room. A day or two turns into a longer stay; Savannah is an excellent cook, and good company too. Amy was always quite prickly as a child, and suffered depression; Brooke was close to her parents but has always suffered debilitating migraines. Neither has any interest in cooking or shopping, so Savannah seems the ideal surrogate daughter…

The four adult children are suspicious, although they can’t quite put a finger on why. Troy is a very wealthy man who mostly lives in the United States, trading in something that’s never made quite clear. Logan teaches at a community college and is quite laid back. Amy works as a taste tester, though she doesn’t tend to stick to one job for long. Brooke has just started a business offering physiotherapy. They’re different enough people, and three dimensional so I never had any trouble recalling who was whom. 

As I’ve come to expect with Liane Moriarty, there are twists and turns as new revelations appear; not everything comes to light immediately, and it gradually becomes clear that the family weren’t as perfect as they seemed to outsiders. Secrets emerge, and I really had no idea which way the story was going. I found it compelling reading and could hardly put it down at times. 

Several important issues are touched upon, mostly relationship-based; there are some particularly poignant scenes relating to childhood pressures and abuses. The question is left open as to how far our childhood experiences determine our characters as adults, and whether it’s ever a good idea to try to take revenge. 

I thought the climax to the book was very well done, tying up most of the ends neatly. So I was slightly surprised it didn’t finish soon after; only to discover one more extra little twist in the final chapter. 

Highly recommended to anyone who likes character-based fiction with a bit of mystery.

   Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Naughtiest Girl in the School (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

As a child, I loved Enid Blyton books. Like many Brits my age who have ended up as enthusiastic readers, I read and re-read the adventure, mystery and school stories (and others) by Enid Blyton as often as I could. Adults sometimes turned their noses up at the similar storylines, and relatively low quality of writing. Nowadays many people object to the apparent racism and obvious sexism, although they were not unusual for the middle of the 20th century, and were not intended to hurt or demean anyone.

I kept most of my children’s books; my sons liked some Enid Blyton, and I have lent many of them to friends’ children over the decades. I have even replaced a few that were falling apart. So I was delighted when I learned that my seven-year-old granddaughter has discovered Enid Blyton. She was listening to the St Clare’s series on audio-books, and when I visited, I found the three ‘Naughtiest Girl’ books in excellent condition in a local church charity shop.

After giving up on reading aloud the wordy and frankly unsuitable ‘Peter Pan’, I suggested reading ‘The Naughtiest Girl in the School’ to my granddaughter.  She reads fluently herself, but reading aloud is an excellent way to introduce children to books they might not otherwise pick up. It must be thirty years or more since I last read this book, so although I recalled the overall plot, I had forgotten most of the details.

Elizabeth Allen is the protagonist, the ‘Naughtiest Girl’ of the title. She is a rather spoilt only child who has had a series of governesses. Her current one has resigned due to Elizabeth’s bad behaviour, and her parents must travel to some unknown destination where she can’t join them. So they have decided that she will go to boarding school. We never learn Elizabeth’s age; I assume she’s about ten or eleven, but it doesn’t much matter. 

Elizabeth decides that she will be so naughty that she will be expelled. But she doesn’t reckon with Whyteleafe School, which is unusual (particularly so for the era) in its self-governing nature, and the fact that it’s co-educational. There’s a Head Girl and a Head Boy, and twelve ‘monitors’ who are chosen from their peers and act as a kind of jury when needed. Each week there’s a whole school ‘meeting’ where any problems or issues are raised, and dealt with. The two Headmistresses, Miss Belle and Miss Best are present, but don’t interfere. And on the whole it works very well.

Some of Elizabeth’s antics are quite amusing, and in reading aloud to a seven-year-old I was able to appreciate them from a child’s point of view along with her. Moral lessons are, of course made, but mostly fairly subtly: Elizabeth learns about living with other people, considering their viewpoints, and how her own actions appear to others. She thinks more about her relationship with her parents, and - when asked - befriends an unhappy girl in her class. 

She’s quite impetuous and sometimes does things without thinking them through, but the school staff and some of the older students realise that underneath her anger and hurt, she’s a hard-working and kind girl. She’s also extremely stubborn, and has a hard time deciding what to do when she realises that she is enjoying many activities at the school and that she will miss her friend if, as planned, she leaves after the first half term.

I didn’t manage to finish re-reading it during my visit, but my granddaughter will now have read the rest of the book herself. When I got home, I picked my own copy up and finished it too. Some of the writing is a bit stilted, and there’s a bit of author intrusion here and there - it’s not a deep or brilliantly written book, and the outcome is predictable. But I thought it a good story, and as it was one of my favourites when I was a child, I’m glad I still liked it. 

My granddaughter’s edition (and mine - this is one of the books I replaced) don’t seem to have been edited to make them politically correct; the only alteration I noticed is that each child receives two pounds per week from the shared pocket money scheme. That seems quite a lot even by today’s standards, and I’m pretty sure it was two shillings when I first read the books, when I was a child, before decimalisation. 

It’s an ideal book for a fluently reading child who likes old-fashioned stories, and makes a good read-aloud too. Perhaps you have to have grown up with these books to appreciate them as an adult, but they’re regularly republished and have a wide audience. There are two sequels, and another six or seven authorised 'fan fiction' novels in the same series, which can often be bought in sets. 

I can't say I much like the cartoon-style images on the newer editions, but I'm pleased to know that these books are still in print, as well as being widely available second-hand. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Peter Pan (by JM Barrie)

(Amazon UK link)

I was staying with my son and his family, and my 7-year-old granddaughter asked me if I would read the book ‘Peter Pan’ to her. She had seen parts of one of the films, and had heard some of the story (probably abridged) in an audio book. There was a very nice hardback edition on the shelf, so I agreed. I had no memory of ever having read the book, although parts of it are well-known and I had a rough idea of the story. 

It was written over 100 years ago so inevitably the language is dated; that wasn’t a problem, since my granddaughter is an avid reader herself, and I was able to explain words she didn’t understand. But as I read, I became increasingly disturbed by the content.  

We first meet the Darling family: two parents, living in London, with their three children: Wendy, John and Michael. Apparently Mr Darling was worried that he might not be able to afford to have children so there was a section where Mrs Darling (we never learn their first names) had to persuade him that they could keep Wendy. They don’t say what the alternative is: whether to put her up for adoption or send her into care (or the ‘workhouse’, as was a possibility in the early 20th century). But it’s a very odd concept to have in a children’s book. 

Yet there are parts that obviously are intended for children, such as the required nurse (as all middle class families had in those days) being a large dog known as Nana. Nana is an excellent nurse, looking after and protecting the children, and even getting them in and out of bed. And there’s the idea of ‘Neverland’, a kind of dream place that is different for each child, which they believe in when young but gradually lose as they grow older. 

But the first chapter or two focuses more on the parents than the children, and we learn of their devastation when, suddenly, all three have vanished. They don’t seem to have reported this to the police; they are heartbroken, but keep the windows open in case they come back again. As a parent and grandparent I thought this quite distressing; my granddaughter also thought it was very sad, although she told me that she thought the children would return. 

Peter Pan in the book is nothing like the elvish, mischievous Disney creation. He’s an ordinary boy who is selfish and manipulative: his mischief is not for fun, but to annoy or deceive people. His comments about mothers are bizarre - all the more so when the author inserts his own commentary. People look up to him because he loves rescuing them, but it appears to be so he looks good and people applaud him rather than because he has any empathy. 

Peter Pan has not grown up because he lives in 'Neverland', where people's ages don't change, but it's not at all clear how old he is. Other film productions of this have used boys who are young teenagers, but Peter, as we're told more than once, still has his first teeth - which suggests he can't be more than about eight or nine. However Wendy is supposed to be around the same age, and she clearly has the beginnings of a romantic interest in him, and it's stated that he is around the same age as she is. 

As for Tinkerbell, the fairy, she’s spiteful, jealous and possessive. Then she makes a huge sacrifice on behalf of Peter, and there’s a strange section (another that has become common knowledge) about children believing in fairies and how she can survive if enough children clap. 

The book is very sexist, typical of the era, and somewhat racist too, but most worrying was the indiscriminate violence. We learn, almost casually, that the evil Captain Hook lost his hand when Peter cut it off and fed it to a crocodile. Neverland is a place of almost constant fighting and danger, and Peter appears to like it that way.

By the time I had read about six or seven chapters, omitting a few sentences here and there, my granddaughter agreed with me that it really wasn’t a nice book and she didn’t want to hear any more. However, I was intrigued to know if it got better so I downloaded a very inexpensive version for my Kindle, and finished reading it when I got home. 

It really didn’t get any better. There’s a lot of violence, some quite serious threats of danger, and rampant killings with no compunction towards the end. Yet we also get insights into Hook's character based on reminiscences of his time at Eton. 

Yes, there’s a happy conclusion where the children (and the ‘lost’ boys) fly back to London, and Peter has a moment of understanding that allows him to let go. But I really don’t think this book with its original text is at all suitable for young children, certainly not those who are sensitive. And I didn't much enjoy it as an adult, either. Still, it's considered a classic and many people love the story, so don't necessarily take my word for it. 

  Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Party Crasher (by Sophie Kinsella)

(Amazon UK link)

It’s over 15 years since I put aside my irrational bias against ‘chick-lit’ novels, and tried one by Sophie Kinsella. I liked it so much that, over the years, I have acquired many more of her books. She’s best known for the ‘Shopaholic’ series, and also writes rather raunchier novels under a pseudonym. But the ‘Kinsella’ books are, in my view, well-written, amusing, and with likeable (if slightly caricatured) people.

So when I saw ‘The Party Crasher’ on special offer for the Kindle last summer, it was an easy decision to download it. I don’t use my Kindle much when I’m at home, but I was recently on a four-hour flight, preceded by about three hours at an airport. So, as the previous book I read had been rather heavy I decided to try ‘The Party Crasher’, hoping for something light and distracting.

I was not disappointed. 

The main, viewpoint character is a women in her early twenties called Effie. She has two older siblings: Bean and Guy. They’re actually quite a bit older, and can remember their mother who died when Effie was just three. Their father remarried a woman called Mimi who was fun and creative, and who was the only mother Effie knew. So they’re quite close. 

As the youngest in the family, despite having reached adulthood and left home, Effie has been very much protected by her older siblings. So when an announcement is made just before Christmas, she is totally unprepared.  

That’s all covered in the first chapter. 

The action then moves forward a couple of years. A lot has changed, and the family home - which is huge, and full of quirks - is to be sold. There’s going to be a ‘cooling down’ party, and Effie learns that she hasn’t been invited. She’s hurt and angry, but the relationship with her father has become very strained, and she decides that she won’t go anywhere near the house. Then she remembers her set of Russian stacking dolls which went everywhere with her as a child. She recalls hiding them, and is desperate to retrieve them…

Most of the story then involves Effie’s efforts to sneak into the party when everyone else is busy, grab her dolls, and get out. Unsurprisingly, given the book’s title, nothing goes to plan. The subsequent actions and confusions are almost reminiscent of a Shakespearean comedy of errors. It’s very cleverly done; I could imagine the scenes, and had no idea what was going to happen next. I almost laughed aloud a couple of times.

There’s a low-key love story alongside Effie’s ‘mission’, involving her best friend from childhood, Joe. We learn early in the book that they broke up, and that her heart was broken; it’s not until towards that end that the truth is uncovered. 

I was perhaps a tad unconvinced by some of the revelations and changes towards the end: there are plenty of twists, some more believable than others. I suppose it’s a mark of a well-drawn three-dimensional character when a reader thinks, ‘No… surely she wouldn’t do that?’ and when more than one person turned out to have an unexpected site to their character, I couldn’t quite reconcile it.  

I also cringed at the fate of a couple of violins. 

But other than those fairly minor quibbles, I thought this an excellent read, perfect for a dull flight. And it’s not all fluffy. There are some important issues that are covered sensitively. For instance: the need for honesty; the importance of communication; the inevitable breakdown of some relationships; the dangers of jumping to conclusions. 

I would recommend ‘The Party Crasher’ to anyone who likes light-hearted stories with believable people (on the whole) and a plot with many twists and turns that concludes in a mostly positive way. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Pachinko (by Min Jin Lee)

(Amazon UK link)

I had not heard of the author Min Jin Lee. I most likely would not have found her epic novel ‘Pachinko’, had it not been the book chosen for April for our local reading group. I downloaded it for my Kindle, inexpensively, and started reading it at the end of March. 

I wasn’t in the country for April’s group, but like to keep up with what they are reading even if I can’t join the discussion. However this meant that I wasn’t motivated to complete it in time for the group; that was just as well, as I was very busy elsewhere. And it was quite heavy-going in places.

I finally managed to finish the book, after nearly three weeks. At times I was tempted to give up, but I only abandon books I really dislike, and this one was in many respects an excellent, thought-provoking read. 

‘Pachinko’ features several generations of a family from Korea. The storyline begins over 100 years ago and ends in the late 1980s. It goes rather rapidly through time, and that was part of what I found hard-going: I felt as if I were just getting to know a character when the chapter ended and the focus moved on to the next generation. 

Gradually a main protagonist emerges. Sunja is the sole surviving baby of a young couple introduced in the first section. We first meet her properly when she’s about fourteen, working hard in her mother’s hostel. Her father died when she was young, so she hasn’t been able to have much schooling. But she loves her mother, and gets along well with the paid assistants in the kitchens. 

Then one day, walking back from the market, she is harassed and nearly assaulted by some young men. She’s rescued by an older man called Hansu. He appears charming and polite, and as he’s old enough to be her father she is happy to go for walks with him and chat. However the book’s narration is omniscient in style, so we already know that Hansu has been observing Sunja for a while, and has designs on her virtue.

Sure enough, he grooms her gently and persuades her to do things which she has never done before. She had never thought men would be interested in her, as she’s not conventionally attractive. As she’s so innocent, she’s sure that Hansu will eventually ask to marry her…

Sunja remains an important character in the rest of the novel; we see her rescued again, bearing two sons, and eventually becoming a grandmother. It’s hard to say much more without giving spoilers - suffice it to say she’s a good mother, on the whole, but inevitably makes mistakes. And there are problems with lack of money, with extreme racism and classism, and also of Christians refusing to renounce their faith in Japan. 

I couldn’t keep track of all the characters, some of whom seemed to have quite similar names, but the main ones mostly stand out. The writer makes the context clear so it didn’t always matter if I confused two fairly minor characters. And the writing is compelling in places, even though I couldn’t relate well to anyone due to the many different viewpoints that were included. I can see why the book was written that way, but it makes it less appealing to those of us who prefer character-based novels. 

What I disliked most was the amount of intimate detail given in quite a few sexual encounters of varying types, and the excessive amount of ‘strong’ language used. I was able to skip over the raunchy sections, on the whole, but some of them started without any real hint that they were going to be explicit. Some of them seemed irrelevant to the story, so I’m not sure why they were there.

Evidently a great deal of research went into this book. At the end there are some interesting questions for book groups, and also quite a lengthy interview with the author, which help to give some background to the book. While it’s a work of fiction, it’s based on the stories of many real people from Korea and Japan, and highlights some of the difficulties experienced while working and living in another culture.

I knew almost nothing about Korean history, and the book did inspire me to take a brief foray into Wikipedia - I may read more about the Japanese invasion when I’m back home. I knew vaguely about a war in Korea, in part due to the TV series MASH which I occasionally saw as a young adult.  But books like this help to bring history to life, and for that reason I’m glad I read it.  

If you’re interested in this period of history and like saga novels of this style, or if you’re intrigued to know more, then ‘Pachinko’ is probably worth reading once. The title refers to a kind of mechanical arcade game which is used for gambling in Japan.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews