Fiction

I’m not normally a reader who pays much attention to prize winners, but when several members of my knitting group separately told me about how Shuggie Bain was a must read title, it quickly made its way on to my to read list.

Since Covid hit I’ve generally been reading more and more as a form of escapism. There are times when you just want to disappear into a book, and whilst Shuggie Bain is the sort of book that you can lose yourself in, it’s also not the sort of book you want to lose yourself in. It is a disturbing tale of young Shuggie and his mother Agnes who live in 1980s Glasgow. Agnes’ way of coping with everything that life throws (and it throws a lot in her direction) at her is drink. Yet, as Agnes falls deeper and deeper into drink her children (Shuggie has an older brother and sister) try to save her without much success. As Shuggie ends up saying goodbye to his siblings as they accept their mother will never change, he is determined not to give up hope.

Shuggie’s love for his mother and his dedication to her is utterly heartbreaking. There were several points in the book when I just wanted to jump in the car and drive up to Scotland to help Agnes and her son. The idea that the book reflects real life for some children makes it even more tragic. The only omission from the plot was social services. With modern safeguarding practices you would sincerely hope that they would have been alerted to the situation through Shuggie’s absences from school, but back in the 1980s processes admittedly were not as robust as they are today.

I would challenge anyone who has ever simply said that a parent should “stop drinking” to read Shuggie Bain and then say the same again. Every family and every individual is different, but what this book does is make it crystal clear just how complicated situations can be and also how easy downfall into drink can be. The impact of external factors can be huge, even if the links are not obvious.

I don’t think “enjoyed” is the right word to use when referring to a book that is frankly, uncomfortable and heartbreakingly tragic, but Shuggie Bain is a book that I’m glad I read. It’s a good reminder and insight into a life that might not be like your own, but is just as important. A life that is complicated and full of challenges. One that shows what some children have to deal with from a very young age.

Child poverty has scared me for a long time, and Covid and more recent pressures of lorry driver shortages, rising gas prices and threats of food shortages are only going to make the situation more difficult. We owe it to children like Shuggie to understand what their lives are like and speak up for them. They not only need support in their communities, but also people who represent and campaign for them at the highest levels. Let’s not let them down.

A painful read, but also a must read.

Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart is available to buy online here.

From one book that talks about the benefits of libraries, amongst other things, to a book set in a library and with the benefits of libraries and learning at the core of the story: The Librarian by Salley Vickers.

In 1958, Sylvia Blackwell takes up a new job as the children’s librarian at East Mole library. As a child she had a love of books and she wants to share that with other children. To enthuse them about the written word.

She moves into a small end of terrace cottage and tries to settle into village life. She gets to know the family that live next door but one very well, and starts to try to reach out to local children and their families via both the WI and the local primary school. In doing so and through inviting them to the library, she ends up making friends with three young children in particular – her neighbour’s son, her landlady’s grand daughter and the daughter of the local GP.

But things are not straight forward. She ends up having an affair with the married GP and the neighbour’s son, caught between the attentions of two girls, ends up getting himself into all sorts of trouble. In doing so the children’s library is dragged into a local scandal, and the results of it threaten Sylvia’s own job there.

Part one of The Librarian is set in the late 1950s and as it’s a period that I really enjoy I found myself loving Sylvia (even if I didn’t agree with all the choices she made in life!) and I became incredibly caught up in her life in East Mole and everything that was going on around her. I was intrigued to find out what would happen next and was looking forward to seeing where the story would go, when suddenly part one finished and part two of the book began.

Without much by way of an introduction part two of the book is suddenly set in modern day and it’s a good few pages before you actually realise which of the book’s characters you are again following. You’re left assuming that it’s Sylvia, but then rather disappointingly in my opinion you find it’s actually another of the people that you first met in East Mole.

Part two of the book really does demonstrate the benefits of libraries as centres of communities and as places for both learning and escapism. It also shows how events of childhood can really shape a person – both for the better and sometimes the worse. But, and it is quite a big but, part two just really seemed to jar against part one for me. Yes it picks up some of the ends of what happens to some of the characters, but it seems to only give Sylvia a passing comment. I wanted to know so much more about what happened next to her and I was left almost feeling a bit let down. I’d become so invested in her in part one of the book that moving the focus almost seemed disloyal. I sort of understand why, even if I can’t explain why here as it would give away some of the story, but it left so much hanging in the air that I didn’t really feel satisfied when I finished the book.

Despite all this I did take away some good things from The Librarian. As a lover of libraries, and in particular children’s libraries, I could see what the character Sylvia was trying to do and wanted to support her in doing it. There were quite a few nice mentions of children’s books from the time and a very useful list of recommended reading from East Mole library at the end, which fits well with my aim to read some of the children’s classics that I missed as a child (a separate post on that soon). Having also just read Tom’s Midnight Garden as my daughter was studying it this term whilst I was helping with her home schooling, I was interested to read some of the references to it in the text and that too helped my understanding of some of the theories about it that were discussed in The Librarian. I’m just sadly still left feeling a tad disappointed at the end, and wishing I knew properly what happened to Sylvia when she left East Mole.

The Librarian by Salley Vickers is available to buy online here.

The last few weeks over Christmas haven’t quite turned out how I planned or hoped. Christmas Day saw me start with Covid symptoms and they in turn led to a positive test result and all of us having to isolate for nearly two weeks as first I and then Bonn had full blown Covid. I’m not a week out of isolation, but still not right again. It’s given me plenty of time for reading as although my body has needed sleep, it hasn’t always come easily. Instead I’ve found sanctuary in books in the early hours, even if my feverish mind hasn’t always managed to follow everything going on!

Three Things About Elsie is a book that I bought on a bit of a whim after seeing my dear friend Ruth talk about it on Instagram maybe a couple of years ago. Since then it’s sat in my growing to read pile until I picked up up over Christmas and started to lose myself in it.

Set in a retirement complex it was hard at times to not get a tad confused with The Thursday Murder Club which was the last book I read. I kept expecting some of the characters from that to turn up and try to make sense of what was going on. They’d probably have done a good job! I did warn you that my feverish mind didn’t always keep on top of what was happening.

What I did love about Three Things About Elsie was the characters that Joanna Cannon had created. I really liked Florence and found the writing style made me feel great empathy for what she was going through as the story progressed. It certainly makes you think hard about growing older and what it must be like for the millions of older people that have spent so much of the last year in isolation. There was also something about “Handy Simon” that I also found myself associating strongly with, I just can’t place my finger on what it is!

As for the story itself, there were a couple of times where I found myself making connections and almost jumping ahead of myself, but on the whole I really liked its slightly rambling nature and how the different lives came together. It was sort of relaxing, but at the same time had enough drama in it to keep me interested. I particularly enjoyed the section of the book set in Whitby. Possibly because it’s somewhere I know reasonably well and visited only a couple of years ago, meaning I was able to picture everything quite clearly as I read.

Joanna Cannon isn’t an author that I was really familiar with before Three Things About Elsie, but I’ll certainly keep my eyes open for more of her books. A gentle read, yet also one which helps you really feel for the characters in it. Exactly what my frazzled brain needed during some long sleepless nights.

Disclaimer: This book was bought with my own money. Links in this post may be affiliate links. If you buy anything via them it will cost you no more than if you arrived at Amazon on your own, but I will receive a small commission. Any purchases you make are greatly appreciated. Thank you.