A while ago I said that there had been one other book event in August about which I’d write later.  So, finally, here I am! 

On a pleasant Saturday evening at the end of the month, I drove down to Peebles for the launch of a new edition of Pink Sugar by O Douglas.  If you don’t know, I should tell you that O Douglas was the pseudonym of Anna Buchan, sister of John.  The story goes that she didn’t want people to associate her books with him and so she didn’t use her own name.  She did, however, draw very largely on her family and background in her books.

Mum collected the O Douglas books and eventually I did too.  We both loved them for the same reason: the strong sense of family and/or community that they all contain.  They are not just cosy family stories, though.  Anna Buchan was no-one’s fool and knew exactly what the world was like even is she didn’t choose to dwell on the depressing or the depraved.

Many of her books are set in Peebles-shire with which the Buchans had strong family ties.  Anna lived in the town for many years.  Pink Sugar is one of those titles and so it was an ideal place for the launch.  This new edition is published by Greyladies who are venturing beyond their original plan.  This is not a book for children or by a children’s author.  However, as Shirley Neilson said, it’s her business and she can expand the idea if she wants!  I’m glad she has done if it means that more books by O Douglas will be available.

The launch was attended by members of the Buchan family and representatives from the John Buchan Centre in Broughton and the John Buchan Society – as well as committed O Douglas readers like me.  It was a very enjoyable evening – there aren’t many opportunities to discuss the works of O Douglas with well-informed, enthusiastic fellow book lovers.

Of the book itself, I have to say that it’s not my favourite, although I do like it.  It tells the story of one Kirsty Gilmour who settles nears Peebles with her elderly aunt and three unrelated children.  It is not plot-driven but shows a clear insight into character.  Despite the title, it is not sweet and cloying and just about manages to avoid sentimentality over the children.

If you don’t have it, you should certainly buy it.  But also look out for second-hand copies of other titles.  I’d suggest The House that is Our Own, The Setons and Taken By the Hand.  Or maybe Greyladies will publish them too…

My next set of reviews will be in The Scotsman on Saturday 17. October.  Rush out and buy a copy!

Over the last few weeks I’ve met and listened to about as many authors as I could cope with!  Without exception they’ve been lovely people and have had interesting books to talk about but I have to say that, when Friday came and went, I was glad to think that I had a whole week before I had another book event to attend.  It seems you can have too much of a genuinely good thing!

The main reason for my being authored out is the Edinburgh International Book Festival.  On my own account I heard a whole raft of great authors.  Some of them (whisper it!) were even talking about books written for adults.  Alexander McCall Smith was as seemingly random and entertaining as ever although I suspect his performance was more planned that it appeared.  Menzies Campbell was Raj Persaud’s guest – and a fine one he was too.  A politician with opinions he was willing to share, no less.  Waving my chair’s pass, I sneaked in to hear Margaret Drabble.  I have to confess that I’ve never read any of her work but she was fascinating.  And, trying to keep up my knowledge of Norwegian culture, I went to hear Lars Saabye Christensen, talking about Beatles.  One of the most popular Norwegian books of the last quarter century, it’s just been translated into English. 

And then there were all the children’s authors.   I was chairing some events which meant I heard people I might not have chosen myself.  And what a good thing that was!  I enjoyed all the events I was involved in but I have to make special mention of two.  I was delighted to be chairing Elizabeth Laird.  As I’ve said before I have a very high opinion of her books.  It was a joy to hear her talk about The Witching Hour and to listen to all the questions the young people had.  The other mention goes to Michelle Paver, author of The Chronicles of Ancient Darkness.  I had read the first book, Wolf Brother, when it came out about five years ago but hadn’t bothered to read the rest of the series.  However, before meeting her in Edinburgh, I read Ghost Hunter, the final book.  I’m still not hugely interested in the historical setting but I found myself engrossed by the book and involved with the characters.  And Michelle really brought the books to life in her excellent session where she expertly fielded some inspired questions.  Both of these authors signed copies of their books for ages afterwards and I stayed around to talk to the young people as they queued.  So-called experts who love to suggest that young people don’t read anything (worthwhile) these days should have been there.  A special mention here to the staff and pupils from Nairn Academy who left at 5.30am to be at the festival.

I chose to go and hear some children’s authors too.  I’ve heard Keith Gray speak a number of times but always at events I’ve organised so it was a pleasure to hear him in Edinburgh where, whatever happened, it wasn’t my responsibility.  He was as funny and interesting as ever, although I have had to take him to task for suggesting that librarians and dragons might appear in the same sentence!  I’ve been reading Joan Lingard’s books for thirty years and enjoying them for as long.  Her latest book was launched at this year’s festival.  What to Do about Holly is a good read and somehow reminded me of the Maggie quartet.  The story is completely different so it must be the atmosphere that is reminiscent.  The Maggie books remain my favourite of Joan’s and I was pleased to have a faint echo of them as I read about Holly.  I’ve saved the best till last, though.  I mean no disrespect to the other authors I heard when I say that this year’s Edinburgh book festival was made for me by the appearance of Judith Kerr.  As a child, I read When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit and loved it.  When I was older, I read the other two books in the trilogy and, for me, these are her best books.  Yes, The Tiger who Came to Tea is good fun and Mog is a lovely cat but there is something special about Pink Rabbit.  Please go and read it if you haven’t already.  When I heard that Judith was appearing at the festival, I got very excited and bought a ticket as soon as they were available.  And she didn’t disappoint.  I am so pleased to have met her.

My last book event was on Friday evening when I went to the launch of The Keepers’ Daughter by Gill Arbuthnot.  I’d been sent a copy of the book by Gill’s agent, Kathryn Ross of Fraser Ross Associates, and I’m grateful for that as it was a great book.  It’s a sort of fantasy but set in a world which is completely recognisable.  The characters step immediately off the page and are people whose fate I can care about.  And in my head I have a map of the islands on which much of the action takes place.  Altogther this is a book I can heartly recommend.

So that’s it: my book-filled three weeks.  Actually, there was one other event but more of that later.  Ahead of me (less than a week ahead) is Stirling Council Libraries’ book festival, Off the Page.  Being responsible for the children’s programme, I’m approaching it with more trepidation than anticipation but I’m sure the authors at it will be just as good as those I’ve heard recently.  Full details can be found at www.stirling.gov.uk/offthepage but just let me mention here that we have this year’s winner of the CILIP Kate Greenaway Medal appearing – Catherine Rayner.  Now there’s a coup!

A couple of weeks ago I was reading an article in a professional journal written by someone I know in the world of publishing.  It was generally very interesting but one thing jumped out at me: the name of Helen Dore Boylston.  I already knew that the writer of the article and I have similar tastes in children’s books (We once sat together at a conference dinner bemusing our fellow diners with our in-depth discussion of the Chalet School, Anne of Green Gables and Cherry Ames.) but I didn’t know that we were both collectors of the Sue Barton series.

Spookily, I had just finished re-reading Sue Barton and was about to move on to Helen Dore Boylston’s other series about Carol Page, an aspiring actress.  The article hadn’t mentioned those books so I emailed my friend to ask if she knew them.  On finding that she didn’t, I decided to take the first one, published in the UK as Carol Goes on the Stage, to the award ceremony of the Carnegie and Kate Greenaway Medals where I knew we’d meet.  I did and Alyx is now off on a quest to find copies of the books for herself.  I might even be inspired to find better copies for myself.  I’d really like to get hold of the original American editions.

Talking about the books has caused me to think about them again.  They were originally published in the US between 1936 and 1952.  I had read all of the Sue Barton titles by the time I was twelve in 1980.  At that time they had been re-issued in paperback by Knight (I think!) and they were easily available to borrow from the library in Lossiemouth or to buy.  It never occurred to me that the books were 40 years old at that point.  And that must be one of the reasons they remained in print and popular for so long: they don’t date.  There are some references that give their age away (an old man who had seen Florence Nightingale, Sue meeting Lillian Wald, founder of the Henry Street Settlement) but a child would have to be paying a lot of attention to pick these up.  The only one of the Carol series I read as a child was Carol Comes to Broadway, the third title.  I found it confusing because I’d missed so much of the history but I loved it.  I was always aware, however, that the setting wasn’t modern as there are fleeting references to the Second World War.  Like Sue Barton, though, Carol Page appeared to me a fairly modern heroine.

Even re-reading the books as an adult, I still don’t find them very dated.  I know a little bit more about medicine now so I realise that things have moved on; and the manners and etiquette in the books are more formal than they are in my experience (unfortunately) but, that apart, they could certainly have been written in my lifetime.  Except, maybe, for one thing: the romance.

Reading the books as a child, Sue’s relationship with Bill seemed quite believable (although I wonder what I really made of the life of a group of adults as a ten-year-old…) and, as a teenager, I was prepared to accept Carol and Mike’s.  Of course, reading either series as an adult, these relationships clearly date the books.  As far as I can remember, Carol and Mike don’t so much as kiss even though they’re engaged by the end of the series!  I think Sue and Bill might have been slightly more daring.

However, I think that in spite of this, Helen Dore Boylston does something that few other authors of the period managed: she creates believable male characters.  Compare Bill Barry with the male doctors Elinor Brent-Dyer introduces for her heroines to marry.  If you have ever read the Chalet School books as an adult you’ll know that Jem Russell, Jack Maynard, Gottfried Mensch and even the non-doctor Dick Bettany are simply stereotypical collections of fine upstanding characteristics.  Bill is, of course, a brilliant surgeon, handsome, funny and trustworthy.  But he’s also short-tempered, a bit chauvinistic and can be hurt, vulnerable and depressed.  In terms of publishing, Jo Bettany and Jack Maynard get married in the same year (1940) as Sue and Bill finally do the same.

I was going to say: and I know which hero I’d choose.  But, actually, I’d go for Mike.  Michael Horodinsky is tall, dark but certainly not handsome; he’s rude, insecure and a bit of a genius in the theatre; he has an inferiority complex the size of New England and a bagful of prejudices mixed with total honesty and trustworthiness.  And it’s not only Carol who is surprised that he wants to marry her.  Helen Dore Boylston creates a genuinely scratchy relationship between the two of them and it’s really only in the course of the third book that they become at all close and, even then, there’s no hint of romance.  But there’s mutual respect and understanding of each other’s character and background.  Mike matures and develops as a person as well as a producer throughout the series and I’m with Carol’s mother who tells her that she is a very lucky girl to have Mike fall in love with her!

I wish that Helen Dore Boylston had written more books and I especially wish that she’d taken Carol’s life further.  And it seems that I’m not their only fan.  Trawling the Internet recently, I discovered that a small American publisher (Image Cascade Publishing) has put out new editions of the Sue Barton series.  Maybe Carol and Mike will be introduced to new readers sometime soon.

My next set of reviews will be in The Scotsman on Saturday 27. June 2009.  I hope you find them interesting!

I’ve been waiting years to read this book, having loved the first two parts of the series, Airborn and Skybreaker.  Starclimber tells the story of the first space exploration – but you have to bear in mind that these books are set in an alternative past.  Having said that, this third part is much more firmly grounded in time and place.  There are references to Mrs Pankhurst and the Suffragettes, the King and Canada.  The series always felt like it was set in the Edwardian period so I’m glad to be confirmed in that.

I raced through Starclimber and thought that it was both better and worse than its predecessors.  I think the plot is more satisfactory; it’s tighter and has fewer moments of high drama.  In the earlier books, there was sometimes a slightly imbalanced feel to the plot.  This one develops well and believably in context.  But I think that the changing relationship between Matt and Kate isn’t handled as well.  It ebbs and flows and at times it disappears altogether.

But that’s a minor gripe.  I thoroughly enjoyed  Starclimber and it was well worth waiting for.  I hope that there will be further books in the series -   Kenneth Oppel is rapidly becoming my second favourite Canadian author.

A couple of days ago, I picked up my proof copy of Lifegame by Alison Allen-Gray meaning to flick through it.  I started at the first page, however, and was immediately hooked.  I read it off and on all day – tea breaks, lunch hour and for a few minutes while the internet was down – and then took it home where I read it to the end.  You’ll have gathered that I enjoyed it.  I don’t know why I’m so surprised as I read Alison’s first book, Unique, with the same intensity.

 

Lifegame tells the story of two teenage friends, Fella and Grebe (I could wish that they had different names), who live in the Island State at some indeterminate time in the future.  For different reasons they both need to leave the island.  However, they believe that there is nowhere else to live after a bio-chemical attack left the rest of the world poisoned.  The novel takes them on a quest for the truth – some of which turns out to be horrific.

 

This isn’t a perfect novel.  If I were judging it for the Carnegie Medal, I’d point out that there are loose ends, glitches in the plot and extraneous details.  I’m not, though, so I’d recommend it whole-heartedly to young teenage readers.  It’s pacy, engaging and compelling and published in May.

Elizabeth Laird often writes about subjects in which I am not at all interested.  But that never discourages me from reading her books.  They are always meticulously researched, beautifully written, fascinating stories.

 

My personal favourite is probably still The Garbage King.  It’s one of many books by Elizabeth to have been nominated for the Carnegie Medal, having been shortlisted a few years ago.  Set in Ethiopia, it tells the story of two boys from very different backgrounds who find themselves living on the streets.  It’s powerful and moving and heart-breaking and life-enhancing – and it stayed with me long after I’d finished reading.  Its major strength is that it doesn’t have an unrealistically happy-ever-after ending.

 

Just about to be published is The Witching Hour.  By rights, I shouldn’t be at all interested in its subject matter, either.  It’s set in seventeenth century lowland Scotland and, as I often tell people, I’m not interested in history until at least the eighteenth century.  However, I found The Witching Hour immediately engrossing.  The blurb on the back cover would lead you to think that it’s about witchcraft but, as far as I can see, it’s really about the Covenanters.  Perhaps it’s about being an individual and true to oneself. 

 

Elizabeth Laird has dug into her own family history to research the book.  Perhaps that’s why the characters are so engaging.  I had intended to read the book over the Easter weekend but ended up reading it in the space of a few hours on Good Friday.  It really was a book I couldn’t put down and I suggest that you find a copy as soon as it’s published.

My spring round-up of children’s books will be published in The Scotsman on Saturday 4. April.

A while back I promised that I’d write more about the newer children’s books I love.  As my bookshelves prove, there are many of them but there are a few in particular that stand out for different reasons. 

 

One of them is Airborn by Kenneth Oppel, a Canadian.  This is a book I had to read whilst judging for the Carnegie Medal and my heart sank when I saw it.  It appeared to be yet another sci-fi/fantasy mixture, two of my least favourite genres.  But one should never, of course, judge a book by its cover and when I finally steeled myself to read it, I was enchanted.  It’s set in an alternative past (it feels Edwardian) on an airship – a very enclosed community – and tells the story of Kate and Matt who are first-class passenger and crew.  It’s a fast-paced adventure but it’s also a character study and has a great supporting cast.  I loved this so much that, when the sequel, Skybreaker, was published, I rushed out to buy a copy.  And now I’m excited because there’s a third book due out in May.

 

I’ve mentioned Linda Newbery elsewhere in this blog, I know, but her books are so good that I can’t apologise for that.  I discovered Linda’s books in my early years as a school librarian and loved them immediately.  In my view, Sisterland is an outstanding teenage novel and it was a strong contender for the Carnegie Medal.  Linda has a tremendous ability to create memorable characters and to cause them to interact believably.  In Sisterland she cleverly depicts a variety of relationships, some of them overlapping and all containing an element of tension.  Without it ever becoming an issue-driven novel, it looks at the nature of prejudice and explores the reactions of various characters to it.  I have to say, though, that the first time I read the novel that wasn’t what I thought about.  I simply enjoyed the story.  Whenever I see Linda, I nag her about writing a sequel.  I know she’s never going to but it doesn’t stop me wishing she would!

 

That I would include here something by Eva Ibbotson was never in doubt; the problem was always going to be which her books.  As I’ve said before, I love them all but in the end I chose The Star of Kazan.  It’s a jewel!  With a deft touch she has created memorable characters: Annika, a girl in love with life and Austria; Ellie and Sigrid, servants defined by duty and generosity; the eccentric professors for whom they work; the glacial Edeltraut von Tannenberg.  And Vienna.  The warmth and fondness with which the author always describes Vienna make me feel as though I’ve been there – although I never have.  This is a wonderful evocation full of waltzes, Sauerkraut, the not-so-blue Danube, the Prater, Lipizzaner stallions and affectionate laughter at the city’s idiosyncrasies.  Vienna is integral to the novel.  It is more than a setting in time and place.  It is a main character.  The Star of Kazan is a delight.  Eva Ibbotson’s gentle irony and subtle humour enhance a beautifully crafted and well-managed plot.  There is no extraneous detail; like an expertly conducted symphony, everything comes together in a satisfying Viennese conclusion.  It truly is a masterpiece and I’m still a bit put out that it didn’t win the Carnegie Medal!