Review: The Brandons by Angela Thirkell

This is not the cover on the book I own. When my grandmother was paring down her belongs to move from her largish condo to a smaller home in another state, she let me go through her books and decide which, if any, I wanted to keep. As I rescued books I remember reading as a child (Tales of a Korean Grandmother anyone?), I also stumbled across The Brandons by Angela Thirkell. I had fallen in love with Thirkell's writing some time before but had thought her to be fairly obscure. And perhaps she is not well known to the current generation of book lovers but she was obviously much better known at one point in time. Her relative obscurity now is a shame because she is a wonderful and wonderfully prolific author. So despite the fact that I already had a copy of this book, I happily set my grandmother's 1939 hardcover aside to keep instead of my more recent paperback copy.

The Brandons is one of Thirkell's Barsetshire series of books, set in her imaginary English countryside and is as delightful as the book which precede it in the series. Set before WWII, The Brandons focuses on the eponymous family. Opening when wealthy, elderly Aunt Sissy, a bit of a termagant, is starting to fail more substantially than she has been for these many years. She has called upon Mrs. Brandon and her three mostly grown children to attend to her, as she has done periodically over the years. When they visit, the family meets Aunt Sissy's self-effacing nurse, Miss Morris, as well as another relative who has as much claim on Sissy's fortune as Francis Brandon.

But this is no struggle over an inheritance, instead it is a gentle, mocking novel with flashes of Thirkell's formidable wit focused in many ways more on the characters rather than the situation at hand. As a matter of fact, neither Francis nor Hilary Grant, the other relative, want to be saddled with Aunt Sissy's stately, though rather frightening and damp, home. And Aunt Sissy's health and eventual death are really a background to the relationship machinations detailed herein. We watch as Mrs. Brandon gamely and somewhat unconsciously accepts the devotion of all the men in her orbit, being obliged to listen politely to the poetry and lengthy prose each of them has undertaken. She also quietly and off-handedly tries to manipulate one of her admirers into professing an attachment to Miss Morris instead. Her own children regard her with fond amusement and she is not only masterfully drawn, but she is a fantastic foil for Hilary Grant's abrasive mother.

Thirkell's character construction is outstanding and her grasp of human nature is spot on. Her books rarely shout out for recognition but their understated elegance and their high entertainment value should garner them that recognition anyway. She has been compared to Jane Austen and in some ways, the similarities of their drawing room comedies barely masking social commentaries do deserve the comparison. But in most ways, they are very different writers, tackling very different societal norms and expectations. I do love Thirkell and her precise characters, the gentle tone, the sparkling, unexpected humor, and English village plots of her novels. I only wish more people would discover the delightfully entertaining Thirkell.

Review: Gregor the Overlander by Suzanne Collins

Suzanne Collins' newer series is the biggest buzz book of the YA book world right now (at least as far as I can tell) but in a rare show of fiscal prudence, I didn't rush right out to buy it. Instead I decided to settle in with the first book in her Overlander series, which we conveniently enough already owned. It is fascinating to me that I will accept fantasy in children's books but shy away from it in adult books. There must be some bit of charm or magic that loses its potency for me when making the leap from kid to adult writing. And while charming and magical are perhaps not the best words to describe this particular book, I was happily engrossed in Gregor's world for the better part of a couple of hours and hope I can convince one of my fledgling readers ("No, I don't like to read," says one child who then has to be told to put the book down and finish dinner so the rest of us can escape the table and go about our evenings) to read it because I think they'd like it, not that they'd ever admit it to me.

Gregor is minding his two year old sister Boots when she falls through a grate behind a dryer in their apartment building. Of course he has to follow her but instead of an air duct, they find themselves falling down a long way into the Underland. Discovered by giant cockroaches, they are taken to the humans where they learn a bit about the world into which they've fallen. This is a world where there exists an uneasy detente between giant spiders, bats, roaches, rats, and humans. But Gregor and Boots' advent, long prophesied, will lead to all out war. Gregor wants no part of the Underland until he learns that there is a possibility that his father, missing for more than two years now, might be alive and trapped somewhere in the Underland. And with that knowledge, Gregor will lead the quest that holds the fate of all the creatures in the land. There is adventure, morality, and entertainment galore in this middle grades book.

Gregor is well drawn as a conflicted kid who wants to escape to save his mother the heartbreak of another disappearance but who wants to charge to the rescue of his beloved father, if the rumors of his capture and survival are true. He is a lucky and thoughtful boy, both traits which will come in handy on his quest and he is loyal beyond all accounting. None of the characters are drawn as unquestioned heros, with all of them having flaws and weaknesses. They are recognizable as kids first and foremost and as warriors on a quest secondarily. In addition to good, complex characters, the book offers some moral commentary on the nature of war but it is done so well and so subtlely that it won't bore the reader, instead inspiring thoughts about when and why war might be justified and when and why is isn't. Some readers probably won't pick up on the subtext, choosing to read this purely as an adventure story but the more sophisticated will at least notice the undertones.

If the much raved about Hunger Games is as subtle and interesting as this book for the younger set is, it is probably a very worthwhile read.

Review: 44 Scotland Street by Alexander McCall Smith

Once The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency became popular, it seems like everyone raced out to read all the rest of what Alexander McCall Smith had written. So that probably means I am the last person on the planet to read this first book in the Scotland Street series. Interestingly though, I haven't heard much talk about this series and that's too bad. Because as charming as the Botswana books are, I liked this one even a shade more.

This novel has a varied, colorful, and extensive cast of characters populating its pages and the reader gets to know each and every one of them as individual characters. Most of the characters live at 44 Scotland Street in Edinburgh. Pat is having her second gap year because of vaguely alluded to circumstances. She moves into a flat with Bruce, a good looking but rather narcissistic, somewhat lazy young man. Neighbor Domenica, a widowed former academic becomes friends with Pat. Five year old genius Bertie lives with his domineering mother and father in the building as well. As the lives of these tenants, and a few outside characters, intertwine, the reader is treated to mundane lives and events written in a most delightful and engaging way. Unrequited love, failed set-ups, therapy, and misunderstandings abound in the daily lives of our characters. But far from being boringly domestic, this gives the book a comfortable and familiar and pleasing feel.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time at 44 Scotland Street and hopped right out to make sure I had all the subsequent books in the series because I am curious to see where the vagaries of fate will take our characters next. And I fully expect to be introduced to the people alluded to but missing from this installment. There is a serial feel to the book itself so there are natural stopping places throughout if you find yourself enchanted by this one too late at night as I did. The characters are all very complete in themselves, feeling as if they could be your very own next door neighbors. And the descriptions of Edinburgh are intriguing and wonderful. This book and the city it represents are both wonderful to visit (although I think I'd stay out of the old train tunnels given my slight claustrophobia, thanks) and I look forward to future visits to Scotland Street.