2020: A Bumper Year of Books
When I searched for an image to use for this ‘2020 retrospective’ post I was amazed (and amused) by the number of pictures of vaccination syringes, masks, and other Covid-19 references. I did not want this post to be about Covid-19 – or at least, not the devastating effects of the pandemic, with which we are all too familiar.
What I wanted to write about was the silver lining in the Covid cloud, for me anyway (and I suspect, many others around the world.) 2020 turned out to be a bumper year of reading!
I have read at least 74 books this year. This includes hard copy, e-book and audiobook formats, adults and children’s books, fiction and non-fiction. I had signed up to three reading challenges, all of which I completed with ease: Aussie Author Challenge, Non-Fiction Challenge, and Australian Women Writers Challenge.
I read books from my local library (in e-book format while lockdown restrictions were in place); books gifted to me; books I reviewed for publishers; and books chosen for the book group I belong to.
My congratulations and thanks to the wonderful, talented authors, editors, publishers, illustrators, book designers, and booksellers who managed to keep the writing and reading show on the road during a tumultuous year. All of which brought great joy and solace to readers such as myself.
Let’s all look forward to more fabulous literary treats (and I hope, I better year in every respect) in 2021.
Fun with words: ‘Poo! And Other Words that Make Me Laugh’ by Felice Arena & Tom Jellett
It is a truth universally acknowledged… that children of a certain age love so-called ‘toilet humour’: jokes, books and almost anything else to do with bodily functions involving the toilet and loud noises. Poo! And Other Words That Make Me Laugh incorporates plenty of these words that are irresistibly funny to youngsters, but (and here I say, thank goodness) offers up plenty of other words that are somehow innately humorous to chuckle over.
This genre of children’s book is not my favourite but I do acknowledge that young readers love to giggle over the absurdities of life, and there are plenty of words in the English language that when said aloud, do sound ridiculous, so this is a good book for adults to share with children. Words such as brouhaha, bumfuzzle, caboodle, collywobbles, persnickety, and scuttlebutt all get a look-in.
There is a glossary in the back so children can learn the meaning of the words, once they have stopped their giggles, that is.
Once you step past the toilet humour, this could be a good introduction to some of the more amusing words in English, and for younger readers to enjoy the shapes and sounds of words. The illustrations by Tom Jellett are simple with bold primary colours and there is a playfulness in the book design, too.
Poo! And Other Words That Make Me Laugh will be published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in January 2021.
My thanks to the publishers for a review copy.
Wild magic: ‘Havoc! The Untold magic of Cora Bell’ by Rebecca McRitchie & Sharon O’Connor
Havoc! is the second book in the Jinxed! series by Rebecca McRitchie, all about the magical adventures of Cora Bell and her fairy friends Tick and Tock.
Aimed at independent readers eight years and over, these are chapter books that will enchant and engage, with enough action to please and a focus on the themes of friendship, belonging and being brave.
Havoc! picks up from the first book, with Cora realising that the magic within her has been ‘syphoned’ from magical beings and threatens to get out of control. If she is not able to do something soon, she runs the risk of turning into a Havoc, and no one wants to be around one of those…
She sets off in search of other syphons, in the hope that by finding others like herself she will finally have found a family and a place to belong. On the way, she encounters dark magic, powerful enemies and danger.
Her friends Tick and Tock add some humour into the mix. Forget about sparkly, delicately fluttering ‘Tinkerbells’ – these fairies are bald little men with rather large bellies, and plenty of gumption to help their friend.
The black and white illustrations by Sharon O’Connor bring characters Cora, Tick, Tock and others to life.
The world-building in this story is lovely, with riffs on familiar creatures like mermen, warlocks, trolls and vampires. Some of the scenes are a little dark so possibly not suited to very young children – though with the popularity of Harry Potter among even the youngest of tots, perhaps there is not so much cause for concern nowadays?
Havoc! and the Jinxed! series will appeal to young readers who like their magic fast and colourful, and who enjoy stories about friends facing the odds together.
Havoc! The Untold Magic of Cora Bell is published by Angus & Robertson (an imprint of Harper Collins Children’s Books) in September 2020.
My thanks to the publishers for a copy to read and review.
When a sanctuary is threatened: ‘Bruny’ by Heather Rose
For everyone who is still awake.Dedication by author in Bruny, published 2019 by Allen & Unwin
That dedication by the author is a good heads-up to what this novel is: part thriller, part study of family, part love letter to a place, and also, a manifesto against the onslaught of political and economic movements that support power, wealth and progress at any cost.
Set on Bruny Island, just off the Tasmanian coast near Hobart, the novel explores several themes. A main one is progress and its price, especially for small, relatively isolated communities such as those on the island, and Tasmania more generally. Astrid, the main character, is a Tasmanian with strong links to Bruny, who has established a life in New York and a career as a conflict resolution expert, working for the United Nations in trouble spots around the world. When a massive new bridge joining Bruny Island to the bigger island of Tasmania is blown up just before its completion, she is called on to help by her twin brother – who just happens to be the Premier of the state and leader of a conservative political party.
Astrid’s first task is to meet and talk with as many of the ‘stakeholders’ in the bridge project as possible – including the sizeable group of locals who are bitterly opposed to its construction. She muses that:
I was sure Tasmanians would resist…with everything they had, despite the economic advantages. Because to live on an island isn’t just a location. It’s a sense of belonging. It’s history and sacrifice. It’s a choice to be remote. It’s a kind of metaphor…
When you settle for Tassie, you’ve settled for less in some ways; less of what matters out there, more of what matters here.p 254
and p567 (ebook version)
What she discovers is much more complex than it appears, crossing international and government borders and quite a few surprises and shocks. To outline more of the plot would be a spoiler, so I won’t say any more about that here.
The time frame is set in the very near future so everything is recognisable – so much so that I had to remind myself that the novel was published last year, because there were several references to occurrences that mirrored very recent events within Australia or the wider world and which rang uncannily true: epidemics on cruise ships, scandals about government pork-barrelling, unprecedented natural disasters and weather events, to name a few.
The novel canvasses other themes along with the geopolitical ones. Relationships – intimate, sibling, parental, collegial, political – are all examined within the story of the island and its bridge. I especially loved the examination of family – what it means to belong, how we are always part of a family even if we have a life elsewhere. The character of Angus, Astrid’s elderly father who suffers from dementia, is both poignant and wise, though he can no longer communicate except in quotes from his beloved Shakespeare – quotes which are unerringly apt. My favourite is when he quotes Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown (from Henry IV Part 2) at the moment his children are discussing fraught political and public relations issues.
Other timely themes which emerge are to do with the rapid pace of technology and automation, and the moral choices that must be made even as the world drives forward towards new technologies and ways of production. For example:
The people who owned the robots, who employed the techies ignoring in-bound traffic, those who could afford high-protein, low-carb medical care and organic sex, they were going to be sitting pretty in their driverless cars. They would be the ones the car would save when it had to choose between the wellbeing of the driver and the life of the pedestrian crossing the street.p 966
This is Astrid’s musing, though I suspect it is the author’s viewpoint also. A few times, I did feel that the narrative veered into ‘telling’ (via Astrid’s thoughts and dialogue) which were mostly condemning of those in power – not that I disagreed with most of these views – just that they occasionally felt a little out of place in a novel.
I especially resonated with the word solistalgia which appears about a third of the way through – it apparently means ‘a deep melancholia for the assault the world is experiencing.’ (p465) I checked for this one in both Macquarie and Oxford Concise Dictionaries with no luck, though did find it on Wikipedia. It’s a great word, don’t you think? Earlier, Astrid thinks to herself that:
There ought to be a name for the kind of overwhelm that happens when you realise there are too many things to fight. If it’s not environment, then it’s human rights. If it’s not human rights, it’s women’s rights. Law and order. Gun control. Invasive species. Water pollution. Tax reform. Refugee policy. Education. Health care. The list is endless.p442
Perhaps solistalgia is the name she was looking for. For anyone who is or has been an activist on any or all of the issues listed above – well, it is easy to feel overwhelmed and melancholic about the tasks that still lie ahead.
This novel does not end on a melancholic note, though it is not a ‘happy ever after’ ending either. Instead, it examines what happens when a small group of people make a choice for what they believe to be the right reasons. And how individuals, families, and communities can continue to push on within the face of challenges from multiple sources. Bruny is a thought provoking read that does not have all the answers but certainly asks the right questions.