5 out of 5 stars
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: I got talking to the author on Twitter and read a couple of her articles, which were extremely good, so I was interested enough to download her first book when it was published.
This is a novella length examination of the events leading up to and the aftermath of the Tenerife air disaster of 1977. In March of that year, two planes, a Pan Am and a Dutch KLM jet, were heading for the Canary Islands where passengers would disembark for holidays. Because of a bomb scare at their designated airport, Las Palmas, they were re-routed to the much smaller Los Rodeos, where the disaster took place.
In describing the events leading up to the tragedy, Modjeska clearly outlines the extraordinary series of minor events, which, on their own, caused difficulty. Occurring at the same time, however, the bomb scare, the size of Los Rodeos, the language difficulties, the concerns of the pilots, the lack of standardized terms used in transmissions, radio glitches, the regulations about the amount of time a pilot is allowed to remain in the cockpit before taking a rest, and finally the weather, all came together to produce the perfect, disastrous storm. The movements of the planes are clearly described, using diagrams; the detail is important. The author also uses transcripts of the transmission conversations to give the reader a clear understanding of the misapprehensions between pilots, co-pilots and air traffic controllers.
The description of the tragedy itself, when the two planes crashed on the runway, is harrowing indeed, and close attention is given to the question of who was to blame. Modjeska has presented the information in such a way that the reader can make up his own mind. It's so well written, with even the minute technical detail clear enough to hold the attention. At first I found myself thinking it was the fault of one person, then another, but in the end I came to the conclusion, like the author, that the cause was a coming together of many unfortunate circumstances. She talks, near the end, of a film that was made of it that portrays Pan Am as the heroes and victims, and KLM as the cause; I am glad she showed another slant to this.
It's an excellent book, and probably, I would imagine, the most comprehensive and fair account of this tragedy.
Thanks for visiting :) You can find books in similar genres/with similar star ratings/by the same author by clicking on tags at the end of the reviews. These are my own reading choices only; I do not accept submissions. If you would like to follow me on Twitter, I'm @TerryTyler4. Comments welcome; your email will not be kept for mailing lists or any other use, and nor will it appear on the comment. For my own books, just click the cover for the Amazon link.
Saturday, 29 April 2017
Friday, 28 April 2017
THE MISTRESS OF BLACKSTAIRS by Catherine Curzon
3.5 out of 5 stars
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: It was a submission to Rosie Amber's Book Review Team, of which I am a member. I have read two of the author's other books and enjoyed them, most recently The Crown Spire.
The Mistress of Blackstairs is set in Covent Garden in the late 18th century, where the mysterious, veiled Madame Moineau runs an establishment in which she provides entertainment for some of the moneyed men of London. In reality she is former courtesan Georgie Radcliffe. In the winter of 1785, two men appear in her life. The first is portrait artist Anthony Lake, looking for the daughter he has never met, and the second is someone she would rather not remember, Viscount Polmear. Georgie and Anthony's lives become entwined as they face a mutual foe.
There is no doubt that the author knows her subject very well, and she portrays the period in intricate detail, creating a lovely atmosphere of the time and showing the pretensions of the well-to-do against the seamier side of life, with the whores and gambling. It's a jolly good story, with some evocative description that I enjoyed very much; the dialogue is interesting and adds to the characterisation in each case, from the snooty Viscount Polmear to the dialect of the kitchen staff, young Molly (Georgie's ward), and the ladies of the night.
I didn't enjoy the book quite as much as I'd expected to, alas, because I felt it could have benefitted from some redrafting/editing to tighten it up and make the actual prose read more smoothly. The punctuation bothered me; there are blocks with no commas where I thought there should have been some, which meant I had to read passages twice to get their meaning. There was too much use of the words 'and then', where a semicolon, instead, would have made the whole paragraph read so much better. I'd sum it up as a very good book, let down by less than satisfactory editing and proofreading.
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: It was a submission to Rosie Amber's Book Review Team, of which I am a member. I have read two of the author's other books and enjoyed them, most recently The Crown Spire.
The Mistress of Blackstairs is set in Covent Garden in the late 18th century, where the mysterious, veiled Madame Moineau runs an establishment in which she provides entertainment for some of the moneyed men of London. In reality she is former courtesan Georgie Radcliffe. In the winter of 1785, two men appear in her life. The first is portrait artist Anthony Lake, looking for the daughter he has never met, and the second is someone she would rather not remember, Viscount Polmear. Georgie and Anthony's lives become entwined as they face a mutual foe.
There is no doubt that the author knows her subject very well, and she portrays the period in intricate detail, creating a lovely atmosphere of the time and showing the pretensions of the well-to-do against the seamier side of life, with the whores and gambling. It's a jolly good story, with some evocative description that I enjoyed very much; the dialogue is interesting and adds to the characterisation in each case, from the snooty Viscount Polmear to the dialect of the kitchen staff, young Molly (Georgie's ward), and the ladies of the night.
I didn't enjoy the book quite as much as I'd expected to, alas, because I felt it could have benefitted from some redrafting/editing to tighten it up and make the actual prose read more smoothly. The punctuation bothered me; there are blocks with no commas where I thought there should have been some, which meant I had to read passages twice to get their meaning. There was too much use of the words 'and then', where a semicolon, instead, would have made the whole paragraph read so much better. I'd sum it up as a very good book, let down by less than satisfactory editing and proofreading.
Tuesday, 25 April 2017
BLOOD ROSE ANGEL by Liza Perrat @LizaPerrat
4.5 out of 5 stars
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: I read another title by this author, The Silent Kookaburra, when it was submitted to Rosie Amber's Review Team, and liked it so much I downloaded another of her books.
The story is set in the 14th century, in the village of Lucie-sur-Vionne, and centres round midwife and herbal practitioner, Héloïse. Her husband, Raoul Stonemason, has been working in Florence on the cathedral for two years, but when the plague hits Italy, work halts and he knows he must flee. On the way home he accepts a lift from a merchant, who is to stay a while in Lucie. Alas, he brings with him the plague, and dies of it the next day. From then, it spreads rapidly. As a midwife and herbalist, Héloïse feels duty bound to aid not only those about to give birth, but also the ill of the village, and this causes great friction between her and Raoul, who is terrified that she will bring the pestilence into their own house.
I was pleased to discover that Liza Perrat can write historical fiction as convincingly as the dark (yet humorous) contemporary drama I'd read before. The research that must have gone in to this book is some feat; there is so much intricate detail about the herb lore of the period, the every-day lives of the peasants, and most interesting of all, the superstitions and religion. The villagers' lives are ruled by their fear of a wrath-like god, and have faith in all manner of charms, talismans, portents of doom, etc; a minority dared to voice their derision of these far-fetched beliefs, but it was so sad that, of course, they had no idea of the cause of the pestilence; as I read with frustration, it made me wonder what generations far into the future will think of the beliefs that still exist today, that our lives are watched over by invisible, judgemental, parental style entities. The parallels with our 21st century life are many, and it gave me much food for thought.
The story itself, of how Héloïse deals with the prejudice towards her, and how she climbed from her darkest hours back into the light, is well thought out and so well written, but aside from this, the novel is a fascinating exploration of the rural life of the time, of the societal structure and the way in which the pestilence affected the people and changed the way they thought and lived. I hope to read another book in this trilogy soon; this is the third book, and a complete stand alone.
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: I read another title by this author, The Silent Kookaburra, when it was submitted to Rosie Amber's Review Team, and liked it so much I downloaded another of her books.
The story is set in the 14th century, in the village of Lucie-sur-Vionne, and centres round midwife and herbal practitioner, Héloïse. Her husband, Raoul Stonemason, has been working in Florence on the cathedral for two years, but when the plague hits Italy, work halts and he knows he must flee. On the way home he accepts a lift from a merchant, who is to stay a while in Lucie. Alas, he brings with him the plague, and dies of it the next day. From then, it spreads rapidly. As a midwife and herbalist, Héloïse feels duty bound to aid not only those about to give birth, but also the ill of the village, and this causes great friction between her and Raoul, who is terrified that she will bring the pestilence into their own house.
I was pleased to discover that Liza Perrat can write historical fiction as convincingly as the dark (yet humorous) contemporary drama I'd read before. The research that must have gone in to this book is some feat; there is so much intricate detail about the herb lore of the period, the every-day lives of the peasants, and most interesting of all, the superstitions and religion. The villagers' lives are ruled by their fear of a wrath-like god, and have faith in all manner of charms, talismans, portents of doom, etc; a minority dared to voice their derision of these far-fetched beliefs, but it was so sad that, of course, they had no idea of the cause of the pestilence; as I read with frustration, it made me wonder what generations far into the future will think of the beliefs that still exist today, that our lives are watched over by invisible, judgemental, parental style entities. The parallels with our 21st century life are many, and it gave me much food for thought.
The story itself, of how Héloïse deals with the prejudice towards her, and how she climbed from her darkest hours back into the light, is well thought out and so well written, but aside from this, the novel is a fascinating exploration of the rural life of the time, of the societal structure and the way in which the pestilence affected the people and changed the way they thought and lived. I hope to read another book in this trilogy soon; this is the third book, and a complete stand alone.
Saturday, 22 April 2017
THIS PARODY OF DEATH by William Savage @penandpension
4 out of 5 stars
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: It was a submission to Rosie Amber's Book Review Team, of which I am a member. Mr Savage has published six novels so far, and I have read them all, which speaks for itself; my favourites are The Code for Killing and The Fabric of Murder.
This third Ashmole Foxe 18th century
murder mystery has more humorous overtones than the first two, and is probably
a more 'easy read' for those who are not particularly interested in historical
fiction per se. Ashmole Foxe is a wealthy gentleman bookseller of
Norwich, a leading member of city society and a slightly world-weary ladies'
man. He is also known to take an interest in crime within the area, and
in This Parody of Death he is invited to solve the murder of Richard Logan, an
undertaker and recluse. As Foxe delves into the lives of those involved
with Logan, he uncovers far more than he had ever expected.
As ever, I quickly became absorbed in
the world of 18th century Norwich; it's a city I know, so this was interesting
for me. Mr Savage's characterisation of Foxe is first class, as, for the
first time, he begins to question his own future, his attitudes to women, and
even the flamboyant way in which he dresses. I liked that there was look
inside the head of Charlie, Foxe's street urchin messenger, with a chapter from
his own point of view, and Mr Savage makes the reader all too aware of the
seamier side of life beneath the period's veneer of respectability. I
also enjoyed the amusing insight into the mysteriously competitive world of church
bell ringing (yes, it sounds a bit obscure, but it's very well done), and the
alternative views on the hypocrisy of formally accepted
Christianity.
With regard to the plot itself, it is
convincing, and unpredictable. I felt there were a few inconsistencies
within the novel, and some repetition of fact that was not necessary, but the
uncovering of the crime is dialogue-led, so this was perhaps unavoidable in
some circumstances. The characters are the stars of this book; I'd love
to see them in a novel other than a murder mystery, as I think they have
potential for more. This is a most enjoyable novel, and I'm happy to
recommend it.
Tuesday, 18 April 2017
CARIBBEAN DEEP by Gary E Brown @oceanmedia
4 out of 5 stars
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: It had come to my notice via Twitter, and I eventually took the plunge. Pun intended.😎
Caribbean Deep is a sailing-orientated human trafficking thriller featuring former Special Forces officers Pete, Willie and Dick; the book is written from the first person point of view of hard drinking, world weary Dick. Willie is the 'character'; it's very much along the lines of your average Netflix thriller series, with plenty of explosions, witty banter from the main characters, dastardly baddies to get your teeth stuck into, helpless victims to save, and near death experiences. It certainly ticks all the boxes, and I enjoyed it.
The author, Gary Brown, is an experienced sailor and bases much of his work on his experiences sailing around the Caribbean, and the authenticity of this novel is one of the elements that makes it work so well; it's clear that Mr Brown knows exactly what he's talking about with regard to the organised crime around the area, and I liked the observation that the slave trade has never been stamped out. As for the sailing itself, there were many terms and words that I hadn't heard of, but it didn't matter; they all came together to build the atmosphere of the novel. The characterisation and mood of suspense is very well done all the way through.
At £5.22, it's a little more expensive than your average indie-Kindle book, but I'd say that if this is your sort of book, it's definitely worth getting. Having read this, I have just downloaded 'Biscay: Our Ultimate Storm', which is a mini ebook about a true event in the life of the author and his wife.
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: It had come to my notice via Twitter, and I eventually took the plunge. Pun intended.😎
Caribbean Deep is a sailing-orientated human trafficking thriller featuring former Special Forces officers Pete, Willie and Dick; the book is written from the first person point of view of hard drinking, world weary Dick. Willie is the 'character'; it's very much along the lines of your average Netflix thriller series, with plenty of explosions, witty banter from the main characters, dastardly baddies to get your teeth stuck into, helpless victims to save, and near death experiences. It certainly ticks all the boxes, and I enjoyed it.
The author, Gary Brown, is an experienced sailor and bases much of his work on his experiences sailing around the Caribbean, and the authenticity of this novel is one of the elements that makes it work so well; it's clear that Mr Brown knows exactly what he's talking about with regard to the organised crime around the area, and I liked the observation that the slave trade has never been stamped out. As for the sailing itself, there were many terms and words that I hadn't heard of, but it didn't matter; they all came together to build the atmosphere of the novel. The characterisation and mood of suspense is very well done all the way through.
At £5.22, it's a little more expensive than your average indie-Kindle book, but I'd say that if this is your sort of book, it's definitely worth getting. Having read this, I have just downloaded 'Biscay: Our Ultimate Storm', which is a mini ebook about a true event in the life of the author and his wife.
Thursday, 6 April 2017
RONALD LAING by David Boyle
4 out of 5 stars
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: It was a submission to Rosie Amber's Book Review Team, of which I am a member.
The name R D Laing is one that I've often seen around, probably on my parents' bookshelves, too, but I've never really known who he was. I've long been sceptical about psychiatric diagnoses, so this book piqued my interest. It's only novella length, so I knew it wouldn't be a huge chore to get through if I didn't like it. Happily, I did.
Laing was an unorthodox Scottish psychiatrist who challenged methods of psychiatric treatment during the 1940s and 50s, was greatly influenced by existential philosophy and became a cult figure in the 1960s. This book is not long enough to be a biography; it's more an overview of his life and an examination of his principles, theories and work in relation to the trends of the time. David Boyle writes intelligently, clearly and in language plain enough for the general reader with no knowledge of the subject. He gives a few instances of Laing's experiments when working in psychiatric hospitals, such as this one: '...In one ward, he reduced the drugs to practically zero and locked the door. In the first week of the experiment, about 30 windows were smashed. Nobody was hurt, so from the second week onwards he unlocked the doors and found there was no rush to leave, and the windows stayed intact...'
Like others of his brilliance, philosophies, era and convention-challenging ideas, Laing sank heavily into the bottle and became something of a caricature of himself. I was interested in much of what Boyle touched upon, found myself constantly nodding and highlighting passages, and will find out more, I am sure, probably from the bibliography at the back. This mini-bio ends at 87%, after which there is the beginning of another work by David Boyle, and a list of others, which I was interested enough to look at.
'He had a complete lack of interest in any kind of small talk or going through the social motions'. Hang on while I go and look him up on YouTube...
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: It was a submission to Rosie Amber's Book Review Team, of which I am a member.
The name R D Laing is one that I've often seen around, probably on my parents' bookshelves, too, but I've never really known who he was. I've long been sceptical about psychiatric diagnoses, so this book piqued my interest. It's only novella length, so I knew it wouldn't be a huge chore to get through if I didn't like it. Happily, I did.
Laing was an unorthodox Scottish psychiatrist who challenged methods of psychiatric treatment during the 1940s and 50s, was greatly influenced by existential philosophy and became a cult figure in the 1960s. This book is not long enough to be a biography; it's more an overview of his life and an examination of his principles, theories and work in relation to the trends of the time. David Boyle writes intelligently, clearly and in language plain enough for the general reader with no knowledge of the subject. He gives a few instances of Laing's experiments when working in psychiatric hospitals, such as this one: '...In one ward, he reduced the drugs to practically zero and locked the door. In the first week of the experiment, about 30 windows were smashed. Nobody was hurt, so from the second week onwards he unlocked the doors and found there was no rush to leave, and the windows stayed intact...'
Like others of his brilliance, philosophies, era and convention-challenging ideas, Laing sank heavily into the bottle and became something of a caricature of himself. I was interested in much of what Boyle touched upon, found myself constantly nodding and highlighting passages, and will find out more, I am sure, probably from the bibliography at the back. This mini-bio ends at 87%, after which there is the beginning of another work by David Boyle, and a list of others, which I was interested enough to look at.
'He had a complete lack of interest in any kind of small talk or going through the social motions'. Hang on while I go and look him up on YouTube...
Monday, 3 April 2017
THE HEART OF THE CONQUEROR by Gemma Lawrence @TudorTweep
5 out of 5 stars
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: I first got to know of Gemma Lawrence via Twitter, and have been reading her since she published on Wattpad only. I've loved all her books, my favourite being La Petite Boulain, about the early life of Anne Boleyn. You can see my reviews of her other books by clicking the 'Gemma Lawrence' tag at the end of this one.
This is something I love ~ historical fiction about a time with which I'm not that familiar, written in such a way that it teaches me about the period. This is the story of the events that brought about the Norman Conquest of 1066, written from the point of view of Matilda, the wife of William, Duke of Normandy, aka The Conqueror. Not only does it tell the story of the two of them, but also gives much background about the Vikings, Saxons and the rulers of northern Europe, who came before them; it made me want to read deeper into the history (preferably written by this author), and I was completely engrossed.
I investigated the story of Matilda and William while I was reading the book, so I'd know what came from fact and what is of Ms Lawrence's creation, and could see that she's stuck close to 'the script', but told their story in such a way that only she can. Gemma Lawrence's Matilda is clever, vain, proud, ambitious to the point of egomania, narcissistic in the extreme, and so assured of her superiority over all beings apart from her husband that she thinks even her God speaks to her, and that she can buy his grace with gifts of money and her own daughter; in anyone's hands apart from this author's, I might not have wanted to read about her, but I loved this book. Of course the church has long been corrupt, with those high up in it behaving far from the basic ethos of Christianity, but, reading this, it occurred to me that the early Christians did, in fact, treat their God as the pagans did theirs, by offering up material goods in exchange for imagined/expected favours; the insight into the spiritual beliefs of the time fascinated me.
There is much expression of the passion between Matilda and William in this novel, and I will admit to skip-reading some accounts of their frenzied coupling so I could get back to the actual story, but these passages were written so well, highlighted the fierce love between them, and were not in the least bit cringe-making. Their love was illustrated so beautifully when they were fully clothed, too, in the way they worked as one to fulfil their mutual ambition ~ and there's a terrific section when William comes back from battle seriously ill, and Matilda and a monk work tirelessly to nurse him back to health.
The last 20% is taken up with the preparation for and the events of the Battle of Hastings. As the book is written from the point of view of Matilda, I wondered how the novel would end without an anti-climax, as, of course, Matilda was not present, but no: the battle is described in all its horror and gory glory, and Ms Lawrence has found an artful way to make sure no detail was spared.
The question of violence towards women arises in this book, as Matilda's first encounter with William was a brutal one, and Ms Lawrence discusses this at some length in the Author's Note at the end of the book, but even as I was reading it I thought this: we can't judge the people of hundreds of years ago on the standards by which we live now, because attitudes were vastly different, and we do not walk in their shoes. I add this into the review only to make you aware that there is an occurrence of violence towards a woman at the hand of a man, near the beginning.
This is a long book; sometimes there is repetition, with the same factual detail provided more than once. On the odd occasion it felt a little research-heavy, and I felt one or two observations might have worked better written in the present tense, but none of these doubts mattered a jot overall; Gemma Lawrence writes with such intelligence, emotion and innate understanding of her characters and period, and I am so looking forward to reading the next part. Amazon tells us that the highest star ranking should mean 'I loved it', and I did, I loved this book, so I'm happy to award it all five of those potential stars.
In 2015, Gemma Lawrence appeared on my series about writers and their star signs, The Zodiac Files. You can see her piece HERE
On Amazon UK HERE
On Amazon.com HERE
On Goodreads HERE
How I discovered this book: I first got to know of Gemma Lawrence via Twitter, and have been reading her since she published on Wattpad only. I've loved all her books, my favourite being La Petite Boulain, about the early life of Anne Boleyn. You can see my reviews of her other books by clicking the 'Gemma Lawrence' tag at the end of this one.
This is something I love ~ historical fiction about a time with which I'm not that familiar, written in such a way that it teaches me about the period. This is the story of the events that brought about the Norman Conquest of 1066, written from the point of view of Matilda, the wife of William, Duke of Normandy, aka The Conqueror. Not only does it tell the story of the two of them, but also gives much background about the Vikings, Saxons and the rulers of northern Europe, who came before them; it made me want to read deeper into the history (preferably written by this author), and I was completely engrossed.
I investigated the story of Matilda and William while I was reading the book, so I'd know what came from fact and what is of Ms Lawrence's creation, and could see that she's stuck close to 'the script', but told their story in such a way that only she can. Gemma Lawrence's Matilda is clever, vain, proud, ambitious to the point of egomania, narcissistic in the extreme, and so assured of her superiority over all beings apart from her husband that she thinks even her God speaks to her, and that she can buy his grace with gifts of money and her own daughter; in anyone's hands apart from this author's, I might not have wanted to read about her, but I loved this book. Of course the church has long been corrupt, with those high up in it behaving far from the basic ethos of Christianity, but, reading this, it occurred to me that the early Christians did, in fact, treat their God as the pagans did theirs, by offering up material goods in exchange for imagined/expected favours; the insight into the spiritual beliefs of the time fascinated me.
There is much expression of the passion between Matilda and William in this novel, and I will admit to skip-reading some accounts of their frenzied coupling so I could get back to the actual story, but these passages were written so well, highlighted the fierce love between them, and were not in the least bit cringe-making. Their love was illustrated so beautifully when they were fully clothed, too, in the way they worked as one to fulfil their mutual ambition ~ and there's a terrific section when William comes back from battle seriously ill, and Matilda and a monk work tirelessly to nurse him back to health.
The last 20% is taken up with the preparation for and the events of the Battle of Hastings. As the book is written from the point of view of Matilda, I wondered how the novel would end without an anti-climax, as, of course, Matilda was not present, but no: the battle is described in all its horror and gory glory, and Ms Lawrence has found an artful way to make sure no detail was spared.
The question of violence towards women arises in this book, as Matilda's first encounter with William was a brutal one, and Ms Lawrence discusses this at some length in the Author's Note at the end of the book, but even as I was reading it I thought this: we can't judge the people of hundreds of years ago on the standards by which we live now, because attitudes were vastly different, and we do not walk in their shoes. I add this into the review only to make you aware that there is an occurrence of violence towards a woman at the hand of a man, near the beginning.
This is a long book; sometimes there is repetition, with the same factual detail provided more than once. On the odd occasion it felt a little research-heavy, and I felt one or two observations might have worked better written in the present tense, but none of these doubts mattered a jot overall; Gemma Lawrence writes with such intelligence, emotion and innate understanding of her characters and period, and I am so looking forward to reading the next part. Amazon tells us that the highest star ranking should mean 'I loved it', and I did, I loved this book, so I'm happy to award it all five of those potential stars.
In 2015, Gemma Lawrence appeared on my series about writers and their star signs, The Zodiac Files. You can see her piece HERE