Apeirogon – A Novel, by Colum McCann

4 June 2020, via Zoom, in compliance with current lockdown guidance, and with thanks to Camilla and Chris Born

Book choice and report - AA

1
AA chose this book because it sounded interesting and because McCann has written an excellent introduction to creative writing, Letters To A Young Writer. It turned out to interest, irritate, perplex, entertain, and affect members of the club in a countably infinite number of ways.

2
AA really enjoyed this book about grief and rage, hate and cruelty and fear, humanity and inhumanity, security and insecurity, entrenchment and co-operation - in a land where most people don’t just think inside the box but spend their entire lives inside their respective boxes. Each people with its own Catastrophe. But it’s also about love. And extraordinary hope.

It helped, particularly at the beginning, that he’d seen a documentary on Bassam and Rami. He wasn’t sure initially with the jerkiness of the writing but it began to become beautiful if spare and he loved some of the descriptions – such as Bradford, the cave Bassam lived in as a child, its demolition by Israeli soldiers, the dialogue at the airport when Bassam was flying to Bradford, the Australian artist shooting 1000 white books, and the two men’s personal thoughts about what they would like to do to Y.A. who had killed Abir.

Forty-eight years old, he moves through the dark with a slight limp, a cigarette cupped in the well of his hand. He is thin, slim, fit. His limp imprints him into the world: otherwise he might slip through almost unnoticed. Still, an agility lurks underneath, a wiry surprise, as if he might burst away from the limp at any moment and leave it abandoned behind him.

And there were some visceral descriptions – Bassam’s imprisonment, and beatings, evicted Palestinians watching their possessions destroyed and their home sealed up so no-one could ever live there again, and soldiers shooting holes in water tanks, parents stripped and searched in front of their children, and Jesus’ crucifixion.

He turned nineteen years old with two missing teeth, several fractured bones and an empty drip bag in each arm

And some humour such as the Kafkaesque exchange between Bassam and the prison governor. He increasingly found a beauty to it, a clarity and honesty and humanity, the perspective of an observer far from dispassionate but instead passionate about the two men, about looking for peace. The detail was interesting because each story was so brief.

Both chapter 500s are moving accounts of Rami and then Bassam’s loss and grief and paths towards activism, separated by chapter 1001 - a triumph of a single sentence summarising the whole story. He liked the chapters counting backwards from 500 and how it was all woven round their trip to a monastery on a single day in 2016.

He found Bassam compelling and we never find out if the grenade he threw harmed anyone. Rami was fascinating too, and we get to know his family better – Nurit and Matti. The big gap for him was Salwa, Bassam’s wife, who he didn’t feel we were allowed to meet properly. He enjoyed going back in time to meet the grandparents and their connections with the rest of the family right at the end of the book - more and more layers of perspective and complexity. Some lovely pen portraits of Smadar and Abir, but we didn’t really hear the voices of women in the book.


Overall, a novel with a countably infinite number of stories, often compelling,

and once he’d accepted that the familiar plot and narrative arc of most novels was just not going to happen, the book grew in power and beauty. It constantly made him think. Its compassion made it uplifting and left him sad no longer to be travelling with Bassam and Rami. The book’s breadth and complexity seemed appropriate to the scale of its subject matter. It didn’t feel fragmented despite all the fragments. Life’s a mess of fragments and disjointedness and he enjoyed looking through McCann’s kaleidoscope. And the rhythms of the book and the links, and the sense of connection it gave him with the intrepid duo.

3
So he decided to give it an amicable score.

4
RV lived in Israel for a few years and his brother lives there. It was a book he ought to have liked as the conflict is of great importance both to him and to the world, but he liked almost nothing about it. It was biased and not even-handed, written very much from the Palestinian point of view. He felt the book was written so that the reader learns more about, and cares more for Bassam than Rami. Although he agreed with the author’s portrayal of the oppression of the Occupation.

It had very little plot – just two fathers who had lost daughters and the two main characters were too similar. He had no affinity for them and found no interesting characters. He had no idea what the book was about. He didn’t like the jumping around of the stream-of-consciousness style and although he appreciated the links and loops and threads he didn’t see the point of these other than being clever.

He noted small factual errors, but it was the major historical errors which he found unacceptable. And the events were not placed in context. There is nothing about other Arab countries, nor of those countries’ treatment of Palestinian refugees.

5
The style was silly.

6
Particularly the single sentence chapters.

7
And the title.

8
There were, however, a few good bits such as the Dead Sea Scrolls, the concentration camp, the discussions about art and music and culture, and who decides that art is art. And both chapters 500, which he felt would have been a good way to start the book. McCann did tension well. Overall, not a terrible book and he respected the hard work that went into it, but he didn’t like it.

9
MW thought the treatment of the two men by the author was even-handed, but the book was not. However, he enjoyed it because it painted a picture for him, provided one can get inside it, with its sort of stream of consciousness style. He found some of the many interwoven stories and facts distracting and a few which seemed just to be showing off. He was unclear about the symbolism of the birds and said the facts about deuterium oxide were incorrect. He liked the ending, particularly the last sentence. In summary, he enjoyed despite the unnecessary bits and feeling it was a bit long.

10
CB loved it. And has started to re-read it.

11
He’d visited the West Bank earlier this year, including a brief stay in Tel Aviv, and his sister has spent time in Israel. He didn’t feel the book was one-sided. He noted that Bassam and Rami were 20y apart in age, had very different life experiences, and that their daughters died 10y apart. McCann developed well the common feeling and purpose between the two men.

Although it took him a while to get into it, he grew to like the book more and more. Overall, he loved the book – a beautiful kaleidoscope. He found the issues well represented and liked the people. He thought all the side stories linked well. He liked the style and the neat descriptions, particularly this quote:

Rami often felt that there were nine or ten Israelis inside him, fighting. The conflicted one. The shamed one. The enamoured one. The bereaved one. The one who marvelled at the blimp’s invention. The one who knew the blimp was watching. The one watching back. The one who wanted to be watched. The anarchist. The protester. The one sick and tired of all the seeing.

He'd been struck by the calmness of the Palestinians he had met in the West Bank despite the effect of the occupation on their everyday lives.

1001
In general, it was the interwoven facts that people found unnecessary or pointless more than the interwoven stories which carried more interest, particularly if the link was not clear e.g. the volume of someone’s swimming pool in LA.

RV and JH questioned what the book was really about and what can we take away from it. CB saw it as a powerful study of bereavement, MW as a painting, and AA and CB as a kaleidoscope of life in all its messy fragmented complexity. SC noted that the book did not have a conclusion, though nor does the conflict, but appreciated that lots of good writers would not have taken on this topic. RV, MW and SC noted a stream-of-consciousness feel.

11
MT visited Israel in 1981. He remembers tension there, but Arabs and Jews living together and no stone-throwing. He didn’t finish the book, stopping at 40%, having read some lighter fiction first and coming to Apeirogon late. He liked the birds and suggested their symbolism may be related to doves and Noah. He enjoyed phrases like “hospital within a hospital”, liked the prison guard becoming Bassam’s maths teacher, Bradford, the structure of the eye, and the Talking Heads references. But he didn’t feel he got to know Bassam and Rami very well. The side stories and facts became tedious and reading the book became like homework, like a journalistic documentary.

10
And by 40% he started to hate it.

9
CW really enjoyed it. He was initially confused by the disjointed structure, but got used to it and found that all the side stories kept him alive to the main stories, with the deaths of the two girls repeatedly brought back in from different perspectives – an interesting way of keeping grief constantly at the heart of the story. He felt that the huge mutual respect between Rami and Bassam based on sharing their common grief had developed into love.

8
It was a novel, but full of facts. And that McCann was able to explain the situation without any blame so that it didn’t feel one-sided. He just presented the facts and let CW make his own judgements. He thought the birds symbolised freedom.

He loved the writing and the descriptions and wants to re-read it. Although it was quite hard to get into, he found the writing very powerful.

7
WM did not get on at all with this book.

6
This was because the style, the presentation, despite the gruesome, terrible history and events it presented, completely stultified him. He had an idea of what the author was trying to do with Apeirogon - the repetition of events, each individually countable, but seemingly going on infinitely.

However, when he’d read maybe ten accounts of the murder of the children, he really did not want any more. Also, the side issues lost him: President Mitterrand of France eating ortolan, talks with the Senator John Kerry which go on for far longer than scheduled, the tightrope walker, the countless times that the motorbike is revved - he just couldn’t get into it at all.

He noted some lovely descriptions and liked the two men, but for him this was a case of the style negating the substance. He struggled, stopping and starting, to make 50%, and then just could not face any more.

5
SC is currently on halfway – exactly, having just read chapter 1001. He is finding it a really, really interesting book. He finds the structure difficult, and the need to look for the links between the various stories hard work at times. He agreed with RV that having both chapter 500s at the start would have helped the reader get into the book, but appreciated the author’s aim of layering the different stories and viewpoints. He found this effective in some ways and very annoying in other ways. One of the Borges quotes was just stupid.

But overall, he thought McCann was really brave to write this book and it was interesting that he took it on. He noted McCann is from Dublin and that George Mitchell who was involved in the Northern Ireland peace process was later involved in the Middle East. He thought there were some interesting angles and that this was a useful engrossing addition to the narrative and literature on the topic. It is too detailed and has lots of flaws but is also honest and brave and interesting. He found quite a lot of Ulysses in this. He is enjoying it and will try and continue.

4
JH has worked in Jerusalem, Gaza and Sinai and the book brought back the complexities and depressing nature and difficulties of conflict resolution. He really struggled with it, both as a book and as a topic. It was not a novel, and bills itself as a hybrid novel, but it was problematic to call it a novel. The Twitter-like disjointed style prevented development of characters and building on the human dimension. When the author gives himself time to write, as in chapters 277 and 500, the writing is great, but the tragedy is that he doesn’t most of the time. Some great images such as the Palestinians walking over the Andes with their keys round their necks.

3
It was depressing book to read in lockdown, a gloomy book. A real struggle to read and he was glad to get to the end and see the back of it.

2
I know that it will not be over until we talk to each other

It’s a tragedy that we need to continually prove that we are human beings.

My child was not a fighter. She was not a member of Fatah or Hamas. She was sunshine. She was good weather. She told me once that she wanted to be an engineer. Can you imagine what sort of bridges she could have built?

1
Scores:
AA – 23
RV – 9/2
MW - 23
CB – 32
MT - 22
CW – 8.5
WM – 2
SC – 7 (prov)
JH – 22

Passage to Juneau by Jonathan Raban

Zoom discussion, Thursday May 7th, as the age of the coronavirus lockdown continues. All members present and plugged in.
Book selected by Steve, who also is also responsible for the following write-up. It contains spoilers if you haven't read the book.
 
‘I am afraid of the sea. I fear the brushfire crackle of the breaking wave as it topples into foam; the inward suck of the tidal whirlpool; the loom of a big ocean swell, sinister and dark, in windless calm; the rip, the eddy, the race; the sheer abyssal depth of the water as one floats like a trustful beetle on the surface tension. Rationalism deserts me at sea.’
Jonathan Raban

This is a true story. The author Jonathan Raban has always been as much a journalist as an author, and his books tend to contain a lot of reportage, social comment and personal exposition as part of the process of storytelling.

Steve had read the book before, soon after its publication in the late 1990s, and very much enjoyed it the first time. It covers some of the same ground (or sea) as the recent book ‘Snow Falling on Cedars’ – hence the interest in revisiting it, after a decent interval.

Raban uses as his basis a long-anticipated voyage in his 35-ish foot sailing boat, up the west coast of the US and Canada from Seattle to Juneau, capital of Alaska, exploring the ‘Inside Passage’ that allows craft to make the trip largely sheltered from the impact of the Pacific Ocean. He’s going to write his book, having done lots of background reading about the native Indian civilisation that inhabited the land before it was ‘discovered’ by, among others, Captain Vancouver and his ship Discovery.

Raban quickly introduces a strong element of himself into the story, as in the quote above. He’s sometimes a harsh judge of people, often preferring his own company. Yet he misses his family, particularly his young daughter Julia, terribly. They will join him at Juneau for a holiday when his own adventure is over, but the shock when that doesn’t go at all according to plan is perhaps one of the book’s most powerful moments.

There are extensive descriptions of his own navigation of the Inside Passage, the spectacular landscapes, the ravages of modern economics and most of all the incredible natural forces at work in the tides, rapids and eddies. These are all interwoven with extracts from Captain Van’s diaries as he describes covering more or less the same ground in the late 18thC, having already sailed half-way round the world in a ship that functioned partly as finishing school for privileged young men. At the same time, we learn about the original inhabitants of the land, the aboriginal Indians.

For Steve, at the second time of reading, it felt more academic than he recalled or expected, at times feeling a bit like reading a student dissertation. On occasions, there was repetition and over-long dwelling on some oddity of the white settlers’ interpretation of Indians and their lives.

Steve appreciated the honest and self-effacing descriptions of what it’s like to sail alone (eg. the orange jacket episode). Also some powerful and tender moments of observation particularly around the death of his father. And just beautiful writing about the sea. The revelation about his relationship with his wife hadn’t surprised Steve the first time round and didn’t this time – Raban seemed to sleepwalk into that when everyone else could see what was going to happen.

The book still makes Steve want to sail in that part of the world, although the appeal of the book was tempered this time round by a greater reluctance, twenty-odd years on, to take Raban at face value. Steve didn’t find him particularly likeable. Others agreed – in fact it was the strongest common theme of the discussion – he comes over as arrogant and judgemental of others.

There was a short discussion about whether our age affects the way we respond to books. Steve felt that in the 20 years between readings he had perhaps become less tolerant or forgiving a reader – hence relatively less patience with Raban this time round.

Richard felt the book was not equal to the sum of its parts. There was lots to like in the anthropological and historical comment and observations, in the geographical descriptions, the insights into sailing alone and navigation, and the pleasure of turning a dream into reality. But the negatives outweighed the positives. It was wordy and repetitive; much of the nautical detail simply worked to maroon a landlubber; Raban himself is smug and disrespectful of others. And he wears his knowledge heavily – determined that we should all know it. Little or no humour. Most irritatingly, when Raban draws his own conclusion about an aspect of the local anthropology based on his own readings and interpretation, he is utterly convinced he’s right.

Chris B, as a sailor, had hoped to enjoy the book more but found it took a long time to get into. However he did enjoy the description of Seattle’s port and the leaving of it. There was honesty about his lack of nautical abilities, and he wrote well about the sea and the boat. He hung his own story on the shoulders of the 18th Century discoverers quite effectively. Chris found himself looking at the map to follow the track. But it needed something extra to bring him back into the book and that came with the death of Raban’s father. The fractured relationship he had had, his father’s buttoned up nature and events surrounding the death was well done. Didn’t like the guy, but enjoyed his journey and was a bit shocked by the ending.

Willm was not gripped to begin with, not being a boat person. It was easy enough to read but he had no great enthusiasm for returning to it. Raban has a pompous way of delivering his insights into Indian culture, and some was rubbish in Willm’s view, such as the assertion that the Indians had a thousand words for water. This blatant mythologizing rather fractured his credibility. But it wasn’t all bad. Willm appreciated the insights into the Indian lozenge art motifs for example. In England Willm observed his ‘vulgar attempts’ to show his status by name-dropping Harrods, Fortnums, Jermyn Street. Was that just for the Americans?

But after his subsequent return, the book engaged Willm more, as Raban explored deserted villages and stories around them. Although sensing that all was not well between Raban and his wife, the split demonstrated the art of storytelling and marshalling his material. Again, the man didn’t impress but W found aspects of his material fascinating.

John was struck by the similarity with the previous book (Unnatural Causes) – which was also autobiographical. Both authors were people who perhaps hadn’t quite understood the picture they presented to others. But he warmed to the book as it revealed more of Raban. The sailing angle pointed up the tension between the great times to be had on a boat, and the thoroughly scary times that inevitably turn up as well, bringing out the worst in people. There were also interesting insights into the relationship between Americans and Canadians. He’d always wanted to visit this part of the world.

Two members failed to get anywhere with the book. Andrew was already finding it stultifyingly boring so he stopped reading and didn’t pick it up again.

Mark T made it to the 100-page mark but by that time felt he was reading a ‘rather tedious thesis’. The description of Indian efforts to navigate by feeling wave motion through their testicles was not sufficient temptation to continue.

For Mark W, this book was purely aimed at people who like the sea. While he recognised the quality of the writing about the sea, the boat, the journey, it didn’t resonate for Mark. He wanted to know more about Raban’s own journey – how he changed (if he did) as his narrative unfolded, and therefore underlining the point of the exercise. The Vancouver voyage was interesting but the comparison rather petered out towards the end of the book. In terms of the family crisis at the end of the book, he didn’t see it coming but didn’t have much sympathy for Raban either. And then as the book ended in a final chapter of more quotes and literary references, he got a bit bored with it. He appreciated the writing and some of the historical insights like the origin of the phrase ‘letting the cat out of the bag’. But there were too many instances of arrogance and subjective criticism, such as the ‘cormorant crew’ of undertakers carrying his father’s coffin – surely just doing their job?

Chris W missed a detailed map to follow the progress, and it was commented that while there was a map in the e-book version, it was swivelled through 90 degrees and was extremely difficult to use.

The sailing elements of the book appealed to Chris, as did the descriptions of the depressing dereliction of abandoned settlements. The difference between Captain Van and his young officers was interesting – the references to Vancouver being ‘Trade’, for example. The way Latin was often used in records of the time when the collected Indian stories became a little too fruity. He was however left fairly cold by the interludes referring to the father and the wife. These people were presented with little or no back story and therefore it was hard to take any other interest in them beyond what Raban was prepared to share. And when the revelation about his wife came, it was a shock but also impossible to explain because we didn’t know the full story. Were we supposed to feel sorry for him? For them? For anyone?

And now all these pristine inlets and anchorages are packed with cruise liners. The description of the ‘Swissification’ of Juneau was telling, as for many it may be the only route to economic survival. While Chris is a seasoned traveller, this is one trip he won’t feel the need to take.

The average score for Passage to Juneau (including two non-finishers – itself a record for this group) was 5.16.

Unnatural Causes by Richard Shepherd

Thursday, 2nd April 2020, via Zoom (and thanks to Camilla Born for access to the pro version)

Present – everyone!: Richard (his book choice), Andrew, ChrisB, ChrisW, John, MarkT, MarkW, Steve, Willm.

This is a book written (as we discover towards the end) as therapy by a pathologist suffering from PTSD. It is partly a quite straight autobiography, written largely according to the flow of time (although starting with 3 chapters situated largely in the present or in his early career; but then back to his childhood), from his early childhood, the death of his mother, his upbringing by a very loving but sometimes very angry father, his falling in love with the idea of forensic pathology; through is training, his various jobs and gradual career progression, and the incredible roll-call of major cases with which he was involved over that career; culminating in the major changes to his profession, and to his ‘standing’ in the medical and legal world, and his investigation and possible ‘striking-off’.

But it is also variously:

• a discussion of the role of a pathologist, some of the techniques involved, and the changing nature if the profession;
• a detective book – lots of him looking for clues and putting them together to try to find ‘the truth’ – although there are a number of discussions about the malleability of ‘truth’ especially within the Court systems;
• and a book that moves between the professional (and the intense interest in some of the cases), and the personal, both externally with his marriage and his children; and internally, with him distancing himself both from the emotional side of what his job entailed, and the emotional side of his marriage.

Overall, there was quite a wide range of opinion on this book, and a resulting quite wide range of scores, scores (a low of 4 and a high of 8.5). Some found the author ‘pompous and smug’; others felt they could empathise with him and understand his dilemmas. Nevertheless, almost everyone had a great deal to say about the book, and it generated quite a lot of discussion.

One thing that everyone was agreed upon – it was quite astonishing that this one man had been involved with so many important and memorable cases, from major disasters, to incredibly high-profile work (eg the re-evaluation of how Princess Di died, or the Stephen Lawrence Inquiry), to extremely well known child protection cases, through to prison and police racism and prison brutality.

Most of us had not realised or remembered the close proximity of the series of disasters that befell mainly the UK between 1987 and 1989:
“In March 1987 the car and passenger ferry Herald of Free Enterprise capsized outside the Belgian port of Zeebrugge because the bow door had been left open: 193 passengers and crew died. In August 1987 Michael Ryan went on a killing spree and shot thirty-one people in Hungerford before killing himself. In November 1987 a lighted match dropped down through an escalator on the Piccadilly line at King’s Cross, causing a fire that claimed the lives of thirty - one people and injured a hundred more. In July 1988 the Piper Alpha oil rig in the North Sea blew up, killing 167 men. On 12 December 1988 three trains collided due to signal failure just outside Clapham Junction. Thirty-five passengers died and more than four hundred were injured, sixty-nine of them very severely. Later that month a bomb planted on a Pan Am jumbo jet exploded over the Scottish town of Lockerbie, killing all 259 people on board and eleven on the ground. Less than three weeks later, on 8 January 1989, an engine fault developed in a British Midland Boeing 737 which, compounded with pilot error, brought down the plane on the embankment of the M1, just short of the runway at East Midlands Airport . Of 126 people on board, forty-seven died and seventy-four suffered serious injury. In April 1989 ninety-six Liverpool football fans were crushed to death and more than seven hundred were injured at Hillsborough stadium in Sheffield . … In August 1989 a collision between a pleasure boat and a dredger in the Thames claimed the lives of fifty-one people, most of them under the age of thirty.”

Some of us found this book quite gripping from the beginning, with the description of Hungerford, and throughout his account of the different disasters with which he had been involved. As ChrisW said – “I found it fascinating, readable honestly written especially over his personal life, and the intertwining of the personal and the professional”.

Willm made the point that the book was made much more immediate because we had already heard about almost all of the cases he described – that this provided a sense of familiarity, of identification, with him and the work that simply recounting a large number of post-mortems would not have. ChrisB found it “really interesting; quite fascinating – the historical context and how these events happened in quick succession.”

John found it a ‘slow burn, but that he warmed to the author and his story as the book progressed’ (specifically from about Chapter 25 onwards!) – he began to like him once he began less career-driven. John made the point that the book functioned on and described three levels – personal change, professional change and organizational change – ChrisB also liked this mix of personal, professional and organizational; and all of us in the group can reflect on how these three dimensions have affected us at this latter stages of our own lives.

So for this author, 

• at the personal level, he moved from a driven career-obsessive with a dead marriage, with PTSD, yet at the height of his profession to semi-retirement on the Isle of Man; 
• at the professional level he saw his work change out of all recognition with the advent of DNA testing, moving from brief 3-page Reports to extensive 10-page+ ones, from thundering bombastic QCs, through major changes in thinking such as the advent of SIDS through to the change to a much more child protection view;
• and at the organizational level, the depersonalization of the ‘industry’, the move from characterful experts to evidence-based ones, the unforeseen consequences of policy changes such as the RAE leading to the un-academic-isation and privatisation of forensic series.

Yet this interest was not universal – others found that, from the outset, they did not like the author, or his writing style, and that majorly detracted from any enjoyment in the book – as MarkW said – “had I warmed to him, I’d have continued reading, but he was so pompous and smug that I simply didn’t feel like continuing”, and Andrew thought “generally I found it clunky, pompous, and self-absorbed –it is clear that on a lot of ethical and personal and moral issues his heart is clearly in the right place, but his stilted delivery sounded to me egocentric, and at times egotistical. It was a defence of his career”; and MarkT said “I didn’t like him – too selfish: he was so full of himself. Too long, quite tedious. I didn’t like him and I didn’t like the book – hated it in fact!”

Similarly, while some found the detailed analyses of the causes of death really interesting, others did not, and found that there were so many that they simply blurred into one long catalogue of post-mortems – as MarkT said “he went on and on about cases” and Steve: “Some of it was fascinating, quite a lot of it was tedious detail that was more to do with defending his actions that keeping the reader interested”. And ChrisW, although liking lots about it, felt that it was “one third too long, bogged down in detail, not as good as it progressed”, and a book that he would only recommend to a select few – not including Sue, his wife.

Most found his description interesting of the ‘alpha male’ environment that he spent a major part of his career in, with the consequent refusal to allow anyone to recognise any weaknesses, but again, some found his lack of challenge of this environment another aspect that they did not like.

Again, there was agreement that both the fact that his career could have ended in disgrace, and his apparent honesty about parts of his marriage and family life, as well as his mental health problems in later life, were interesting aspects; but again, whereas some found this a major positive in the book, others found that, as an autobiography, there seemed far too much ‘special pleading’ (“it read like a defence of his career as much as an expose of how the trauma affected him and his family”) and presenting many situations solely from his own viewpoint (of course all autobiography is partial, and so we always get only one side of the personal and professional stories). As Steve said: “it suffered from the affliction of every autobiography, which is a tendency to think we’re all fascinated!”

Steve spoke for many when he said “I’m fascinated in the generalities - the dealing with the horrors, the difficulty of maintaining a normal family life, and the reflections upon the kind of individual you need to be to do a job like this. The revelation and description of PTSD was powerful. But I wasn’t interested in the detail of his little battles with barristers, colleagues, clearing his name etc etc. I felt he confused what was interesting to the wider public, with what might be interesting only to a more professional audience. Could have been cut by a third.”

On the other hand, others did not find this the case, and found these details, and the discussions of his battles with barristers, colleagues, etc, really interesting.

And it was not that the more ‘medical / health professional’ of us were more interested in this detail – some of the ‘health professional’ members did enjoy this detail (Richard, ChrisB), whereas others did not (Andrew, MarkT).

For a number of members, there were strong resonances between aspects of the book and our own histories. So Andrew had direct links with the Marchioness disaster (both being woken by the noise from a police helicopter the morning after the disaster, and knowing someone white well whose sister died in it); having a brother-in-law as a QC in the Joy Gardner case; and having his wife and children picnicking on Wimbledon Common just after the Rachel Nicholls murder; as well as taking him back to his own medical training and early dissections whilst at the start of that training. And Richard found both many elements of the author’s upbringing, and much of his descriptions of being an Expert Witness, resonated hugely.

One final reflection that a few people made was that a key difference between fiction and some of these non-fictional / autobiographical accounts that we have read is that good writers of fiction use their skills to set the scene in a dramatic fashion, to ramp up the tension, or explore peoples’ relationships, such that they can be much more emotionally involving than much ‘factual’ writing.

Our discussion focused on:
• ‘professional detachment’ and the extent to which that was a needed ’defence mechanism’;
• whether we thought that forensic pathology should have been privatised because the pathologists were too busy to do any research;
• the whole issue of striking off Expert Witnesses for one mistake (Prof Sir Roy Meadows) or for revealing Munchausen’s (Prof David Southall) or potentially the author, because a later pathologist disagreed with him;
• and the difficulties of trying to bring up children when both parents were busy running developing careers;

Richard Velleman
5th April 2020

SNOW FALLING ON CEDARS

Snow Falling on Cedars David Guterson  Meeting 050320 

Apologies from Chris B., Chris W., Richard V. all in exotic locations. elsewhere. This review currently lacks any comments from one of these readers, because of an inexplicable decision to drop his mobile device into a swimming pool.

San Piedro Island, north of Puget Sound, is a place so isolated that no one who lives there can afford to make enemies. But in 1954 a local fisherman is found suspiciously drowned, and a Japanese American is charged with his murder. In the course of the ensuing trial it becomes clear that, for a number of citizens, there is much more at stake than a man's guilt or innocence of the crime of which he is accused.

This novel attracted many very positive comments: ’fantastic’, ‘loved it’, ‘beautifully crafted’, ‘plot gripped me all the way through with the gradual revealing of layer after layer of people’s relationships and lives’, However, for two readers there were also some negative experiences : ‘clunky’, ‘too much detail’, ‘too many cedar trees!’.  Guterson’s attention to seemingly extraneous or irrelevant detail, while distracting for a couple of readers, was seen by others to humanise the town, the characters within it, and their intertwined, mutually-dependent relationships.

Even the readers who were least impressed by the author’s writing style recognised that certain sections were extremely evocative. The description of strawberry farming, gill-net fishing, aspects of Japanese culture and Kendo fighting, the confusion and tragedy of war, and the internment camp, were universally appreciated.  The courtroom scenes and the appearance of the people within it also brought into focus the characters of the protagonists as well as the spectators. 

Themes explored included racial prejudice which, in this case, was selectively focused on differences between Japanese and ‘white’ cultures; the overwhelming forces of nature, war, and chance events pitted against the physical, emotional, mental frailty of humans and their struggle to do the ‘do the right thing’.  

A good argument was made (special mention for Mark W) for ending the book with the penultimate chapter, which was emotionally dramatic, and would have left the story with an ambiguous conclusion, rather than being tidied-up.

Scores:

RV 9.5; SC 8.5; MT 6.5; JH 6.25; AA 8.5; MW 8.5; CB 8; WM 8.5; CW ?

Chronicle of a Death Foretold, by Gabriel García Márquez

[Forester & Flower, 6th Feb 2020. Scores: AA 7; CB 6; CW 6; JH 7; MT 5; MW 8.5; RV 6; SC 5.5; WM 7.5. Mean score 6.5]

A short novel by Gabriel García Márquez, a Colombian novelist who is considered one of the most significant authors of the 20th century and one of the best in the Spanish language. The novel was published in 1981, and a year later Márquez was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.

The narrator returns to a small town in Colombia where a baffling murder took place twenty-seven years earlier. Just hours after marrying the beautiful Angela Vicario, everyone agrees, Bayardo San Roman returned his bride in disgrace to her parents. Her distraught family forced her to name her first lover; and her twin brothers announced their intention to murder Santiago Nasar for dishonouring their sister. Yet if everyone knew the murder was going to happen, why did no one intervene to try and stop it? The central question at the core of the novella is how the death of Santiago was foreseen, yet no one tried to stop it. Unlike the traditional detective novel this book does not investigate the murder. Instead the narrator explores the circumstances surrounding his death by asking the villagers who were present during his murder and exploring the seeming contradiction of a murder that was predicted in advance. The more that is learned, the less is understood.

John H who introduced the book appreciated the way the author explored the mistakes, misunderstandings and assumptions that lead to the murder and the way warnings were misinterpreted, ignored or as in the victim’s case just not believed. For example, Colonel Aponte assumed that by taking knives off the Vicario Brothers and sending them to sleep it off would be the end of the matter, or the way that Father Amador tried to ignore the warnings because he didn’t know how to handle the situation. The situation wasn’t helped in that most of those involved were recovering from the wedding revelries, exhausted from lack of sleep or had dreadful hangovers – as the narrator noted even “my sister the nun had an 80% proof hangover”. John H liked the way the penultimate chapter explored what happened to Angela Vicario and the way that her “husband”, the fat, sweaty Bayardo San Roman finally returned to her life carrying a suitcase full of the two thousand letters she had written to him over the years since she had gone into “exile” after he had rejected her.

John H saw the book rather like a miniature painting with its meticulous detail. Beautiful, even forensic, descriptions of the town, the context, the people and the events. Wonderfully economical prose much of which became more apparent on a second reading once you got behind the description of the context and events. Sentences and phrases that said so much. He raised the question of whether such a short novel allows for enough character development or whether it is merely what it is – a look back at shocking events that happened over twenty-five years earlier. He also recognised that many questions also remained unanswered - this may have been the authors intent or just a product of brevity. The range of views shared below reflects how some reader’s enjoyment of the book was undermined by its brevity, its structure and lack of character development, while others valued its economical prose and the detail inherent in such a short narrative.

William M: Really appreciated the novel and enjoyed reading it, in fact felt it was well worth reading twice. It was very originally written with a great turn of phrase – for example, the way the bishop was described as “without malice or inspiration”. The different stories of those involved highlights how everyone has a different perspective on the same events, even different views on what the weather was like at the time. While there was limited character development the central characters were strong. Although we never really heard the story from the perspective of Angela around who the story revolves, particularly as to what happened to her – both before and on her wedding night. She found “the name of her deflowerer among the shadows – one among many to be found there”. But it was the detail that gave the book its added flavour, for example the great descriptions and detail of the wedding and the partying afterwards. Although it did seem to end rather abruptly in such a way that just left the reader hanging.

Chris B enjoyed the book more when read the second time with all the detail and the way the story is structured - particularly the way the tension builds to the murder and its consequences as well as the way the shocking detail of the murder came in the last chapter. He also liked the description of time and place, the array of characters and the way that relationships in the community were described – the jealousies and the descriptions of being an outsider (like the Arabs) in such a small isolated community. BUT this novel, for all its strengths, didn’t really resonate with him. It was all very coolly observed. It didn’t get to him and he wanted more emotional engagement, and as a result he questioned why it is seen as such a great book.

Mark T did not really enjoy it –didn’t get into it. He was disappointed by it and found reading it a bit too much like homework. He did not like the way he did not get to know any of the characters well. He also thought there were too many unresolved issues and unanswered questions. For example, there was no evidence that Angela had lost her virginity prior to the wedding night.

Steve C felt it well captured the town and the individuals. Good descriptions of a small town isolated on a riverbank somewhere in South America. But found it too short and was unable to “wallow” in the descriptions of the characters or communities involved. But recognised the quality of the writing – often quite terse and spare. Marquez uses language well and there is a great turn of phrase – particularly in the description of the wedding and the party afterwards. BUT he found the book too short, and as a result had not engaged with it in the same way as he might with a longer book

Andrew A did not see the length of this short novel as a problem. He saw it as perfectly formed and as satisfying as a much longer book. He loved the intricate structure – rather like a jigsaw, and the use of different people’s perspectives – rather like putting the shards of broken mirror together. The characters all remembered the day very clearly but what happened very differently. We learn so much about what happened but really don’t know what did happen – many questions were left unanswered particularly around Angela’s virginity or what happened on her wedding night. He also liked the themes that ran through the story – themes of honour and justice, religion and values. He thought it had a great opening chapter and a great ending – the way it started with disembowelling (rabbits) and ended with disembowelling (Santiago Nasar). He was not gripped by the plot, which was tightly woven, but found it a pleasure to read. He appreciated the sparse prose which he thought was beautifully crafted but recognised that there were possibly too many characters which became quite confusing after a while. The characters were well-drawn, but he didn’t really care for them or what happened to them.

Mark W saw this a brilliant little book, original, suspenseful, (even though you knew right from the first sentence what was going to happen) with a narrator who is like a ghost, having no real role or impact on the story other than collecting the memories of others. The build up to the final scene was masterful as he wasn’t expecting the two twists at the end, firstly that no one really believed it had been Santiago Nasar, and then the way that Angela got together with Bayardo in the end. The final scene was horrific in its build up and its detail. His only irritation (not the fault of this the book itself) was the abrupt ending when he was pacing himself for another 30 pages. He felt this book deserves all the accolades it has received.

Richard V started off liking the book. He thought that the first two sentences were wonderful! “On the day they were going to kill him, Santiago Nasar got up at five-thirty in the morning to wait for the boat the bishop was coming on. He’d dreamed he was going through a grove of timber trees where a gentle drizzle was falling , and for an instant he was happy in his dream, but when he awoke he felt completely spattered with bird shit.” There were several elements that he continued to like – it was short and extremely readable, and the author has a lovely smooth style and an excellent vocabulary. He also has great descriptive power – one can visualise much of what he writes, and many of the things he writes about resonated – “The fact is that Santiago Nasar went in through the main door, in full view of everyone, and without doing anything not to be seen” and yet no-one recalled seeing him. His description of the files in the Palace of Justice is an exact description of how files are ‘stored’ in India – in the law courts, in the police station, in fact, in everywhere that I have been to! “There was no classification of files whatever and more than a century of cases were piled up on the floor of the decrepit colonial building that had been Sir Francis Drake’s headquarters for two days.”

BUT – and it is a big but – he felt that something tremendously important was missing – there was no emotional contact with any of this host of characters. The book, the events, the culture, the descriptions, were all very interesting, and described in quite forensic detail, but the writer seemed to be (and as the reader Richard certainly was) completely removed from caring about any of these people. He concluded that that overall, this was a disappointing book despite all the positives. It reminded me a bit of the Truman Capote book ‘In Cold Blood’ which some of us read many years ago (May 2006), where again the idea and the execution of the idea were excellent, but where he managed to invest quite a lot more emotional depth into what was happening. Chris W felt he should have noted down characters as he went along because for a large part of the book he didn’t keep up with the names and roles of the numerous locals who turned up in the story and their different perspectives. He also felt it’s a story that he should have read in one sitting rather than over many evenings because the different nuances of the storyline told from different characters can only be appreciated when you were following the story through in detail. As a result that having read three-quarters of the book, rather than being attracted to get to the end and read the last pages, he begun to get bored of the same story being told over and over again (even though I knew that the whole point of the book was to have the story recounted from the perspective of different observers with all their minor differences. He recognised that the book conveyed a lot about religion, racism, collective responsibility, collective ignorance and the many other traits of the characters in the small Colombian town, and that it was beautifully written and very clear and readable prose. However, he began to become bored and had the feeling rather that it was a story that had been written for an A-level exam to be pulled apart page by page rather than to entertain the reader. So, in conclusion he thought perhaps he should read it again BUT unfortunately for him it was not an enjoyable read and more of a chore despite interesting themes it covered.

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles

Introducing the book, Mark W explained that he initially had reservations about its length but was pleasantly surprised that he not only really enjoyed it and had no problem with the length. A great Christmas holiday read. He found the transformation into cloak and dagger fifty pages from the end a bit of a shock and was not completely convinced, but that didn’t really detract from overall enjoyment.

Of specific interest was the clash of cultures between the aristocratic Count and the post-Revolution new Russia, finding sympathy with the Count as a cultured gentlemen but also having sympathy with the socialist ideals of the Revolution in a Russia where there was terrible poverty among the peasants. Summed up in this quote from Osip:

‘The Bolsheviks are not Visigoths, Alexander. We are not the barbarian hordes descending upon Rome and destroying all that is fine out of ignorance or envy. It is the opposite. In 1916, Russia was a barbarian state. It was the most illiterate nation in Europe, with the majority of its population living in modified serfdom: tilling the fields with wooden plows, beating their wives by candlelight, collapsing on their benches drunk with vodka and then waking at dawn to humble themselves before their icons……….Is it not possible that our reverence for all the statues and cathedrals and ancient institutions was precisely what was holding us back.’

The book was also very moving in places, particularly in the relationships between the Count and the two girls, an example being the brilliant hospital chapter and the following chapter where the Count discovers Sofia’s prowess with the piano and explains to her that her Mother used to enjoy doing experiments in the same ballroom:

‘One day, I found her here testing the principles of Galileo and Newton by dropping various objects from the balcony and timing their descent with a sprinter’s watch’

‘Is that even possible?’

‘It was for your mother’

They were quiet for another moment, then Sofia turned and kissed the Count on the cheek.’

In the discussion that followed it was clear that, unusually, this book was universally enjoyed. It therefore had the potential of being a rather boring discussion; the fact that it wasn’t was down to everyone finding their own personal perspective, favourite anecdote or quote.

Steve really enjoyed the book, finding it a ‘right rollicking read’, flagging occasionally but with great turns of phrase. He also enjoyed the humour, although found the Count almost too good to be true. He though the book was written so eloquently, and bought into every twist and turn. It was a fantastic romance, Dr Zhivago without the vistas.

Steve also showed us a photo on his phone of the real Metropol Hotel and enlightened us with a bit of its history; the hotel was indeed nationalised by the Bolsheviks post revolution, housing living quarters and offices of the growing Soviet bureaucracy, but was reconverted back to a hotel in the 1930s.

Steve’s only reservations were the number of Americanisms in the dialogue (potential hazard where the author is American!) and the feasibility of some of the plot. Favourite quote:

..when the closet door opened and out popped the Count.

Andrey let out a gasp.

The Count drew in a breath.

Emile dropped the cake.

And the evening might have come to an end right then and there, but for Andrey’s instinctive inability to let an object fall to the floor. With the lightest of steps and his fingers outstretched, the onetime juggler caught the torte in midair.

Chris W found the book enjoyable on many levels, including the underlying mischievous dry humour. These were difficult periods of Russian history, but there was always amusement, fun and entertainment in the hotel. Chris was also worried by the author being American but noted that he had studied English and had had a European education. He loved some of the scenes, for example the games with Sofia. He found the ending interesting, particularly where the Count goes back to his village and an interesting twist right at the end.

Willm found the book whimsical and highly improbable, with the hero an uber-rich aristocrat who was feckless and charming. However, he found it fantastic and captivating. It was carefully constructed with a well plotted story containing 30 years of Russian history. A bit of an animal farm transition where the new rulers taking up that same privileges and behaviours as the previous rulers. As a minor criticism he felt that it glossed over some of the nastier episodes of this period of history, but conceded that it wouldn’t have been discussed much within the confines of the hotel. Willm also appreciated the great relationships that the Count had with both Nina and Sofia, but he felt a bit guilty identifying with the privileged aristocrat. He also noted some of the parallels with the Empire hotel in Bath, which was commandeered by the MoD  during World War II. Overall he found the book delightful, and, like Steve, a great romance. Favourite quote:

“Why, Manager Leplevsky, you look as if you’ve never seen a beautiful woman step from a closet before."

"I haven’t “ sputtered the Bishop.

“Of course” she said sympathetically.

Mark T thought it was a lovely book and enjoyed reading it, finding the humour particularly enjoyable. He loved the relationships between the Count and Nina and Sofia. He enjoyed the precision of the writing, for example ‘leaning forward at 70 degrees’. He loved the character of the actress Anna Urbanova, particularly after their first tryst:

‘As you go out can you draw the curtains’

Other favourite quotes:

“resting his forearm on his thighs and leaning forward at an angle of 70 degrees” . “but fate would not have the reputation if it simply did what it seemed it had to do.

Chris B felt it was a book to curl up to and managed to read it in large chunks enjoying the fact that the Count was totally positive about life despite the setbacks. He enjoyed the Count as a character and the relationships with the girls and the Soviet spy and the cook and the maître-d in the hotel. Chris also loved the Count for being so cultured, but found it interesting that he only escaped the firing squad  because of a poem written by his best friend and was basically living a lie. He felt that the author could have done a bit more with the huge events going on in the outside world, but basically enjoyed it and will always remember it. Favourite quote:

The first was that if one did not master one’s circumstances, one was bound to be mastered by them; and the second was Montaigne’s maxim that the surest sign of wisdom is constant cheerfulness.

Andrew found the book a comfortable read with a good combination of history and romance. For the Count this was a voyage of self-discovery. It felt like a play with a small cast and he found that he cared about most of the characters, in particular the triumvirate and the four central women. The small world of the hotel grew while he was learning about the world. There were a number of memorable scenes: the geese in the corridor, Anna coming out of the wardrobe, the architect sketching the chairs. He felt that the threads in the book were beautifully drawn together, with the mounting tension towards the end. Although the book was not as weighty as some but it was certainly a pleasure to read. One reservation was that it felt as if the history might have been added on at the end. Favourite quote:

“These are the greatest of conveniences, Anushka—and at one time, I had them all. But in the end, it has been the inconveniences that have mattered to me most.”

John, (from afar), found it a cheerful, life affirming story. He finished it feeling rejuvenated and pleased that he had read it. He found it a wonderful bit of storytelling, full of charm and humour, easy to read and follow (despite the complexity of all the Russian names and characters). It had the nostalgia and whimsy of Wes Anderson’s Grand Budapest Hotel.
He also found that it had a generosity of spirit that is all too rare in such aristo-based novels. The way that the hotel workers were transformed over the years into confidants and equals. Count Rostov, who had been charged with being a social parasite and was an unrepentant aristocrat, develops a wonderful circle of friends among the staff of the hotel. The real story seemed to be the Count’s relationships with such characters as: Chef Zhukovsky, Maitre d’Duras, Manager Leplevsky Anna, Sofia, Nina, et al.
If he had a caveat it would be the way the novel glossed over the awfulness of Stalin’s Russia, and all the pain and suffering of the time. But maybe it is the novelist’s prerogative to draw on the grotesque to give us new insights and hope…..

Richard, also from afar, enjoyed the book a great deal. He found it a bit of a ‘slow burn’ but after a while started to really look forward to reading it. He described it as a ‘tour de force’ as it sustained an entire book set within the walls of one hotel (apart from the end, where it moved out from the hotel), and focused almost entirely on one character; but he thought the author brought it off extremely well.

Like some of the others, he thought that the end pages were not as good, - once he left the Hotel, the writing was not as sharp – and he also thought that, although there was one mention of Sophia having attended school, it did seem as if she, too, was under house arrest with the Count. Favourite quote:

For all the varied concerns attendant to the raising of a child - over schoolwork, dress, and manners - in the end, a parent’s responsibility could not be more simple: To bring a child safely into adulthood so that she could have a chance to experience a life of purpose and, God willing, contentment.”

In summary, a book enjoyed by all, with some interesting things to say and observations on life and history as well.

Scores on the doors:

John 7.5, Richard 8.5, Mark W 8.5, Steve 8.0, Chris W 8.8, Willm 9.0, Mark T 8.2, Chris B 8.2, Andrew 8.5.

My Brilliant Friend - Elena Ferrante

Coeur de Lion, Bath, November 7th 2019

The coming-of-age story about two adolescent girls growing up in an impoverished neighbourhood in Naples in the 1950s/1960s. Lena who recounts the story in her retirement takes the path of education and hard academic work while Lila (whose parents do not support her education) uses her wits and beauty to prevail. There is a constant undertone of admiration/jealousy between the two main characters which inspires them throughout the story.

Andrew had already seen the story on Netflix and wondered whether this had influenced his perception of the book which he thought was very good. This was a compelling love story about two friends with their gritty background brilliantly presented. Lena- One of the two main protagonists was at times fearless, bold and impulsive and yet at others considered in her actions. She knew that she had power over others and particularly the men of the neighbourhood. The story depicted the lives of women in a neighbourhood who bottled up their anger and grudges. He liked the descriptions and felt the book had a dreamy quality running throughout. He planned to see the remaining three parts on Netflix.
 
Mark W who enjoyed this book started reading in Italian and then halfway reverted to English. He felt that the book lost a lot in translation. This was a book about relationships between two girls/women surviving in a male environment/culture. He highlighted the scene before the wedding when Lena is helping Lila bathe and who she has seen naked for the first time. The book tells of the anticipated “impregnation“ of Lila by Stefano who will later “sully“ her body in the anticipated brutal wedding night that all new brides have to expect.

Mark T enjoyed this book immensely and look forward to reading the next chapter. He highlighted the chapter about the girls leaving their neighbourhood through the tunnel and the terror they experienced when presented with life outside of their own environment.He felt the book was well described particularly Lila and the fact that she dropped everything for marriage.

Richard liked the book very much although initially confused with a large number of similar names he went with the flow-he felt that it didn’t really matter who was who as the characters fell into place. This book about two girls presents both girls views of the other and the respect and admiration they had for each other. Richard had spent months in Naples many years ago carrying out research so knew the localities and the descriptions which were evocative of the Italian lifestyles that he knew from that time. Sadly he commented that a lot of things have not changed. Men blame women for everything. The solution is education which together with parental support is vital to bring about change to the way of life depicted in the story.

Willm enjoyed this book immensely which “he could not fault“. The story about the sociological and psychological study of two relationships. He liked the directness in the style of writing- nothing overdramatic. Lena is always comparing herself with her friend Lila. who picks up on an idea and then moves on fast to the next. In direct contrast with Lena’s lifestyle of academic drudgery Lila confines herself to enjoying and living a wealthy lifestyle. She seems trapped by her socio-economic status and although she can imagine a more fulfilling life and is capable of attaining it ,she seems psychologically and emotionally unable to move beyond her community. She thus drops her education. Lila has an aggressive response to any problem. She is fearless. Willm liked the scene during the firework display when the competitive firework launches ended in the Solara Bros shooting back with pistols!

Chris B disagreed with the comment by two others that the girls were in love with each other. He felt that it was rather simply the intensity of an adolescent friendship that was being described. It didn’t bother him who the characters were - he just read on. He thought that there were similarities with the recently read book Educated by Tara Westover where the protagonist would have to accept the life that she was living and even though she knew that there was something else out there. 

Chris enjoyed the tension in the relationships between the girls and found the plot not over important. The book used shoes as a symbol of aspiration with Lila seeing herself at the top of the tree… In Educated it was interesting to note that the three kids who got an education then left home thus alienating themselves from their family. Elena is a “foil” in contrast to Lila. This was a well written depiction of life but with no key themes. It didn’t tell you more about society generally.

John struggled with this book particularly the middle part he felt there was too much teenage angst. He observed that the chapter about the girls leaving their neighbourhood through the tunnel was a metaphor for the 1950s creating a “pressure cooker“ and period of change. Lila was not a nice character - she had a dark side to her. The wedding created a focal point at the end of the story and offered a parents perspective looking down on the intense relationships of the girls.

Steve made connections between the wedding in the story and the film the DeerHunter. He liked this book with some very “powerful” scenes depicting the rites of passage of two young girls with each trying to work out what and why she feels about the other. He found the description about the storm and the girls leaving the neighbourhood through the tunnel very memorable as was Lenas stay in Ischia and her relief at being able to escape the entrapment of her neighbourhood. He found several parallels with Jane Austen but as ever criticised the translation of the book which had far too many Americanisms.

Chris W felt that this was a ”marmite“ book with good and bad facets. He disliked the numerous characters with similar names and found the first half of the book did not appeal and that the characters did not did not come alive. however he liked the gritty description of the impoverished Neapolitan neighbourhood and the detailed and precise writing style. The story constantly described the pressures imposed upon women by the macho men in the community and in particular the underlying fear and threat of the powerful Solara family.
There were similarities in this book with the underlying fear described in “The Milkman” which the group had read recently where the protagonist had been selected by the local leader of the IRA to be his woman.

In conclusion the majority really enjoyed this book with a sizeable minority who were less inspired.