Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels

Anne Michaels is a poet living in Toronto; her first novel, Fugitive Pieces, was published to great acclaim in 1997. I read the novel in one sitting. Like Sophie’s Choice by William Styron, I feared it might be too harrowing to read in instalments. And now I have read it again and again. It is one of the most powerful novels I have read in recent years: unbearably moving, compelling, beautifully written. I dip into exquisite passages that are painful, healing, tragic, uplifting: part prose, part poetry, that reel round in my head and must be re-read, savoured, like the chapter when the poet, Jakob Beer falls in love with the young Michaela. We too fear that she will reject him physically – he is too old and ugly – then share his wonderment as her returned love heals his severed emotions. He marvels at being ‘saved by such a small body’. Anne Michael’s sensual, tender prose is sheer mastery as she describes their fusion of body, mind and spirit. No wonder it took the author ten years to complete the novel.
Fast forward towards the end of the novel. Ben, a university teacher and researcher, explores the house Jacob and Michaela once shared on a Greek island. We engage with him, as intimate with those who lived there as he is with Jakob’s poetry. Anne Michaels’ attention to detail is totally absorbing and satisfying as she conveys the spirit of the place through Ben’s narration. He alludes to lines of Jakob’s poetry, describes objects left behind, even remarking on the impact his body had on the sofa or worn shoes left behind. I find myself affirming that one day I too must live ‘a life so achingly simple: days spent in thought and companionship’. Ben remarks, ‘You sat on this terrace at this table, and wrote as if every man lives this way’. Is this a wake-up call to follow our hearts and find fulfilment like Jakob, before we die?
Jacob Beer’s broken-ness and survival are a testament to the endurance of the spirit and the power of human love. His sudden death in a road accident fifty years after surviving the Holocaust reminded me of a survivor from Cambodia, ironically gunned down in Los Angeles years later. Reading Fugitive Pieces reinforced feelings that life is fragile, elusive, incredibly sad, complex, beautiful but above all, must be lived. Rarely does a first novel make this impact, but Anne Michaels is an extraordinary, accomplished writer. Read it and judge for yourself.

(Originally published in New Writer magazine)

Journey to the Sea edited by Sarah Brown published by Ebury Press

Journey to the Sea is an inspired collection of short stories and travel writing. Alexander McCall Smith’s Bangkok, Ruth Rendell’s South America and Joanne Harris’ Blackpool surface in an eclectic fusion of fact and new fiction from 22 writers. A definitive sense of place, from Long Island to the west coast of Scotland, allows the reader to experience ‘the sun, the wind, the waves’ of Andrew Motion’s introductory poem. Tracy Edwards and Robin Knox-Johnson recall their adventures and surfers express their passion riding the waves. I particularly liked Libby Purves’ bitter-sweet story, set at the local leisure centre, and Gervase Phinn’s charming story of a retiring school teacher inspired by a traveller pupil’s gift for creative writing. This is the discerning reader’s ideal ‘holiday read’, admirably suited to armchair adventurers as well. £1 from each copy will raise funds for PiggyBankKids/Special Olympics Great Britain.

(Originally published in The Good Book Guide)

Tulip Fever by Deborah Moggach

Suddenly, entering rooms familiar from paintings by Vermeer or Pieter de Hooch, you are transported back to 17th century Amsterdam, A young artist, Jan van Loos, is painting a portrait of wealthy Cornelius and his beautiful young wife, Sophia. The scene is set. Sophia’s betrayal and the reckless lovers’ speculation on tulip bulbs trigger their undoing and bring down others around them. Nothing is quite as it seems. Passion burns beyond seemingly restrained facades; disguise and intrigue lurk behind heavy drapes covering chequered floors and Delft tiles. Tension builds, fuelled by anxiety, secrecy and deception. ‘Mankind’s hopes are fragile and life is therefore also short’: words etched on a glass in the opening paragraph recall life’s transience. Take time to study the sixteen paintings reproduced within the pages of the novel. Note the intimate relationship between mistress and maid, tall houses by the canal, mysterious interiors: rooms within rooms, still-life compositions of peeled fruit, foreboding skulls and billowing striped tulips as fresh as if painted yesterday. Tulip Fever is a wonderful read.
(Originally part-published in Women’s Weekly)

As it is in Heaven by Niall Williams

I enjoy contemporary Irish writing, from William Trevor’s beautifully crafted stories to John O’Donohue’s exquisite prose, so it came as no surprise that I should be drawn to novels by Niall Williams. I first discovered his writing in a bookshop in Cork a few years ago: a biographical tale O Come Ye Back to Ireland that related leaving New York for a tumbledown cottage in Co. Clare. Forget Toujours Provence, Under the Tuscan Sun et al, this was Ireland, unfashionable, unhurried, wet. Wonderful.

As it is in Heaven reflects the rugged landscapes, pewter skies and mercurial spirits to be found there. Stephen Griffin is a solitary, introverted schoolteacher, living with his retired father. Their lives have been shadowed by the tragic loss of Stephen’s mother and sister in a road accident. Stephen struggles on, until his life is transformed by meeting a beautiful Italian violinist. Lured by the memory of Vivaldi, he retraces her steps to Venice in an attempt to find her again. As it is in Heaven is a book about love in all its aspects. Unspoken tender loyalty between father and son balances the tempestuous passion that overturns Stephen’s life. It is a beautiful fable, at times unbearably sad and moving, at others joyous and vibrant. It explores the joy and pain of love and loss, conveying a sense of healing and well-being to the reader. As it is in Heaven is enchanting.
(Originally published in Books and Company, edited by Susan Hill)