Book Review: The Fawn

This review was written for and first published by Bookmunch.

The protagonist and narrator of The Fawn is twenty-six year old Eszter Encsy, a successful actress in post war Hungary. The novel tells her life story through fragments of memory. These unfold and merge to explain the role she believes she must play to survive.

Born and raised in the city of Szolnok in central Hungary, Eszter now lives in Budapest. She has an older lover to whom she is directing her telling of events, including how she is feeling. Like all those she has ever known, he does not understand what she is below the surface. She acts out her own life as she does those of assigned characters on the stage.

Now orphaned, Eszter was the only child of a sickly father and an aristocratic mother whose wealthy family all but abandoned them after her marriage. As Eszter’s father did not work, for a variety of reasons, her mother earned what she could by giving piano lessons to their more privileged neighbours. Eszter was expected to clean and cook for her family as well as doing odd jobs for anyone who would pay her a few pengő. She used this pittance to buy food and medicine, much of which was then consumed by her beloved father. She was not averse to stealing should the opportunity arise.

“the cream was sweet and soft and she still had a whole bowl full of it, vanilla-flavoured, and at home everything like that went straight to my father”

Eszter regarded her parents as beautiful and adoring of each other to their end. She felt sidelined, growing bitter and resentful of the demands and expectations placed on her. She did not, however, complain, learning to internalise both her physical and emotional suffering. What festered within was a hatred for those whose lives appeared comparatively easy. This is personified in a classmate, Angéla, who harbours the mistaken belief that Eszter is her friend.

When their affair started, Eszter was unaware that her married lover’s wife is Angéla, who she had not seen at the time for many years. When this fact is revealed, the way he speaks of Angéla and their history eats into his and Eszter’s relationship. Eszter, once again, wants nothing more than to hurt her former classmate, whose life as she sees it has been filled with comfort and kindly attention. Eszter grows increasingly angry and frustrated when Angéla continues to garner support and consideration, always taking it for granted.

What is revealed is the lasting damage caused by a childhood of hunger and deprivation. Eszter learned young how to hide her true feelings in order to survive. This stood her in good stead as political turmoil changed the lives of so many, especially the wealthy. When Eszter’s family home was destroyed in a wartime bombing raid she did not mourn the loss of their few possessions – she valued them little. Rehomed temporarily in a hotel she had enough to eat and this was a luxury.

The narrative is disjointed in many ways but the structuring fits with how memory works. Images come to mind and their significance is pondered, retold as suits the time in which they are remembered. The ‘Dramatis Personae’ at the start of the book is useful in differentiating the cast of characters. Although it takes time to understand and engage with the plot, the writing style remains impressively taut and compelling, holding reader attention.

There is much screaming with laughter or faces wet with tears – these are obviously an emotional people. Even Eszter, who so often detaches herself from difficult feelings, cries and laughs, although mostly from a perspective of barely contained anger. Her lover reveals himself as shallow emotionally, self-absorbed and unaware of what Eszter is thinking. His continuing support for his wife may well stem from ego, a superficial need to believe he is a good person despite his infidelity.

Eszter is a strong if damaged character. She cares little how her lifestyle is regarded by others, believing she will never be loved having never felt valued for what she is. Her attention is focused on survival with a side dish of revenge. When a pivotal event pierces the armour she has constructed for self-preservation, those she could turn to do not recognise the crisis she now faces as they have never been permitted access to the true self even she can barely accept.

Any Cop?: Although a slow burn this is a masterfully constructed tale. The protagonist may often be somewhat unlikable but her outcome is still devastating. Hungary’s history through the mid twentieth century provides a fascinating backdrop. Another impressive translation of a story by this author that is well worth reading.

Jackie Law

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Reading – looking back / looking forward

In amongst all the end of year book lists I and others were compiling as 2022 drew to a close was a request from Bookmunch. Peter, the head honcho over on that esteemed site, invited his roster of contributors to provide details of their best read of the year or the one book not yet read but for which reviews have moved it up our ‘that’s a book I need to read’ list.

I provided this as my ‘best read’ (maybe I should have limited myself to one choice…)

The book that had the most impact in 2022 was Where I End by Sophie White (Tramp Press) – a masterclass in creating a darkly disturbing character and sense of place, just brilliant. Anyone out there considering attending a writers retreat should be reading The Retreat by Alison Moore (Salt Publishing) –  a spicy yet insightful take on tribal behaviour, artistic endeavours, and the effects of aspiration, judgement and rejection. For readers who enjoy not just stories but what is behind them, The Other Jack by Charles Boyle (CB Editions) offers thoughts on: books, publishing, readers, writers, class, prejudice, rivalries – all written with elan and repartee. After Sappho by Selby Wynn Schwartz (Galley Beggar Press) is a read that has lingered –  serious issues explored with an entertainingly ironic wit and verve. Finally, The Bygones by Jim Gibson (Tangerine Press) – a short story collection in which the author’s imagination and willingness to test boundaries make for vivid and engaging reading.

As you may have noticed, I didn’t provide the ‘one book not yet read’. Bookmunch published an excellent series, put out in the run up to Christmas, of the Books We’re Looking Forward to in 2023. This following is the one I would have suggested be included had I responded to Peter’s request (I probably would have had to use fewer words).

Close To Home by Michael Magee is due to be published in April by Hamish Hamilton. Described by the publisher as ‘Luminous and devastating, a portrait of modern masculinity as shaped by class, by trauma, and by silence, but also by the courage to love and to survive’, there is a suggestion the story has elements of autofiction.

I have been following Michael Magee (formerly known as Michael Nolan) since 2014 when I interviewed him around the publication, by Salt, of his intriguing sounding novella The Blame – in digital format only so I didn’t read it. After so many years I was delighted when The Bookseller reported that ‘Hamish Hamilton has scooped two “remarkable and devastating novels” by debut author Michael Nolan in an eight-way auction.’ I have since been watching as the proofs for this long awaited book have been received by early readers. I am still hoping one may find its way to me.

There are, of course, other books I am eager to read this year but, having cheered this author from afar for so long, his debut is my ‘that’s the book I need to read’.

Book Review: How To Stop Time

This review was written for and first published by Bookmunch.

Matt Haig had already published a number of fiction and nonfiction books when his memoir of suffering a mental health breakdown, Reasons to Stay Alive, became a number one Sunday Times bestseller. His output since has been prolific – fiction, nonfiction, and books for children. How to Stop Time taps into many of the themes explored in previous works. Through the prism of a man who has been alive for centuries, aging at a rate that makes existing in normal society difficult, it offers a fairly bleak appraisal of humanity and how little is learned from history.

The protagonist of the story is Tom Hazard, just one of the names he has been known by in his long life. Born in the spring of 1581, at his aristocratic parents’ French château, Tom and his mother fled to England following his father’s death in a war. There have been so many wars. There have also been travels that led to meeting famous names – cultural icons and revered explorers. Tom has been witness to many and varied horrors wreaked by his compatriots, including the routing and murder of far flung indigenous populations.

“We weren’t there to take over, we were there, in our own minds, to discover.
And yet we had done what so often happened in the proud history of geographic discovery. We had found paradise. And then we had set it on fire.”

In the present day Tom is a forty-one year old history teacher at a secondary school in Tower Hamlets. Here he meets Camille, a French teacher, and is attracted to her in a way he hasn’t felt in over four hundred years. As a young man he fell in love with Rose, a fruit seller living with her younger sister in Hackney. They had a daughter, Marion. But Tom did not age physically as Rose did and their superstitious neighbours grew increasingly perturbed. After what happened to his mother, Tom realises he must move on, alone.

This is the life he has known – moving on when his unchanging youthful visage draws attention. He learns that there are others in the world like him and is drawn into a sort of secret society that aims to keep them out of the limelight, particularly away from scientists who might treat them like lab rats, hoping to publish academic papers that will raise their profile. Tom is warned that he should not fall in love again, that it only leads to trouble given what he must keep hidden. He may enjoy good food, fine wine, music and rarefied company but avoid attachments. It is a lonely existence.

“’If only we could find a way to stop time,’ said her husband. ‘That’s what we need to work on. You know, for when a moment of happiness floats along. We could swing our net and catch it like a butterfly, and have that moment forever.’
Zelda was now looking across the crowded bar. ‘The trouble is they stick pins in butterflies. And then they are dead”

The structure of the story takes the reader back and forth across the centuries of Tom’s long life. Anchored in the present day, his past is conjured through memories, often dredged up while he is teaching about a period he remembers. Many of these episodes highlight the worst of human nature:  the neighbours who relish in the suffering of those they disliked for spurious reasons; the pure evil of the witch finders; violence, such as bear baiting, regarded as entertainment. There is also some kindness, such as Rose taking in a stranger in need of help. Music is a balm across time and place.

Tom is not always likeable. At one stage in his life he frequents brothels. He is easily led down murky roads when taken under the wing of a wealthy benefactor. Like so many he does not always learn from his mistakes.

One aspect of Tom’s condition is regular headaches that exacerbate his apparent inability to stay focused in the present. These became rather tedious as they added little to the tale. Perhaps, though, the same could be said of his getting a dog, the inclusion of which provided some relief from the negativity.

The author quotes from several of his other works, often upbeat snippets, but this story remains a fairly dark interpretation of the human psyche. As the denouement approaches, tension builds. The ending works but felt incomplete. The reaction of one key character lurking in the background, another long lived individual, was not revealed.

Any Cop?: An interesting idea presented as a perfectly readable story yet somehow lacking in depth despite the obvious messaging that man should do better. In many ways this is a typical novel from Haig, but it is not his best.

Jackie Law

Book Review: Malarkoi

This review was written for and first published by Bookmunch.

“It is a sign of a progressive society that dissent is allowable – anything else is a form of homogeneity such as the inferior herd-minded and cattle-headed peoples are likely to accept”

Malarkoi is the second instalment in a proposed fantasy trilogy that began with Mordew. Although complex and detailed, the world Pheby built in the earlier book was presented at a surface level, the characters and their relationships to each other key. Now the author takes the reader deeper into the workings of the cities focusing on the powerful and what they hope to gain from manipulating underlings and the places they traverse.

Many characters return. The Master remains at Mordew, necessary as his power is largely derived from God’s corpse, which is still stored in the catacombs beneath the city. The Mistress is more fluid. Nathan’s mother plays a role of greater significance than before, although in offering further explanation as to how the world operates the reader will come to understand why she raised her son in the slums – and why her husband contracted lung worm. Nathan’s gang friends and those who pull their strings divide into groups, each granted their own quest.

The plot of Malarkoi brought to mind The Lord of the Rings. There is much journeying in which travellers face perils amidst beautiful surroundings that have been despoiled as those wielding power attempt to gain the upper hand. The death count is high. Few of the characters prove likable, other than the dogs.

“Loneliness is like a vacuum – it is an absence that draws anything and everything into it”

There are huge swathes of exposition as the author attempts to make clear the workings of the weft and those who manipulate it. The writing is more existential than previously, understandable for those familiar with Pheby’s body of work but not, perhaps, always so noticeable in fantasy. While I never felt lectured at, there was a definite message being conveyed.

The weft is centre stage and an interesting concept. Time is meaningless here. It passes, as time must, but it is possible for those with the power to move around in time and space, although this comes at a cost.

Events from Mordew are expanded and explained, given back story and then progressed. The reader is learning more details about this world and those who reside therein.

Then there is death. It happens, regularly, but what comes next may be better given the lives so many have no choice but to live. This message – obvious propaganda – enables the powerful to obtain willing sacrifices, necessary for their magic.

“Recognition is only the beginning of knowledge and is no substitute for comprehension”

How the Master controls his realm is also complex. Details provided are lengthy and still not entirely clear on first reading. Having said that, the story is meticulously plotted. Character development takes more of a back stage. The reader comes to understand why they act as they do but it is more challenging to empathise given choices made.

The details and intrigues make for somewhat slow reading in places as each thread is progressed separately. As is so often the case in fantasy, a being in possession of magical power is depicted as awe inspiring, able to overcome all obstacles, only for something to happen that appears to defeat or negate abilities.

Within these pages there are: mystical creatures, murder, resurrection, joyful interludes, unexpected dangers, friendship, and treachery.

Pheby depicts power in a depressingly realistic way. It may be used to hurt enemies. When enemies also have power the fallout on lesser beings is devoid of compassion, regarded as collateral damage. Bellow’s brother, Adam, tells a bedtime story that gets to the heart of this – how the general population can be lead so easily.

The dogs make a welcome return and play key roles. The epilogue on Sirius was more moving than what had gone before, and why this should be is explored. Appendices offer further detail on episodes gone before, intriguingly on an Assembly, mentioned briefly and perhaps a subject of the next instalment.

Mordew introduced Nathan Treeves, a boy with power the unleashing of which caused mighty change, not least to himself. Malarkoi makes Mordew look parochial in the wider world, although still relevant due to its storage of God’s corpse. The ‘religions’ described see heavens turn into hells. We learn why the Master and Mistress wish to defeat each other and how they plan to do so. There are several gods but it is the weftlings who take centre stage here.

“the past is always gone, and one must find happiness where one may”

With one more instalment still to go, not all questions are answered. It is clear that there will be outside forces to contend with, but the roles given to the weft population – few of whom seem to entirely disappear even when killed – will be of interest.

Any Cop?: This sort of deep diving fantasy fiction offers more on each perusal, drawing in readers eager to discuss the layers and conspiracies. I suspect that in future years, when Cities of the Weft has become the classic it deserves to be, there will be plenty of aficionados with views and theories the author himself may not have considered apposite.

Jackie Law

Book Review: The Lost Rainforests of Britain

This review was written for and first published by Bookmunch.

“In England, trees grow where people have not prevented them”

Britain was once a rainforest nation. Large swathes of the western edges – up to one fifth of the total land mass – used to be covered in temperate rainforest. Small pockets still remain but even these are under threat. Industrial farming practices, invasive species such as rhododendron, and man’s thoughtless squandering of his life support system for short-term pleasure or gain all wreak destruction on habitats that have value beyond financial considerations. Sadly, few pay attention.

“this great forgetting that we once had rainforests is almost as heartbreaking as the loss of the forests themselves. It points to a phenomenon that ecologists call ‘shifting baseline syndrome’: society’s ability to grow accustomed to environmental losses.”

In 2020 Guy Shrubsole moved from London to Devon. Here he discovered that Dartmoor, his new local area, still contained fragments of an important ecosystem he had previously been unaware existed. This book documents the investigation he undertook to find and attempt to map Britain’s lost rainforests, and to work out what would need to be done to bring at least some of them back again.

“The biblical story of the Fall – that we once lived in paradise, but lost it due to our sins – remains a powerful narrative”

The opening chapter introduces the reader to what a temperate rainforest is. Here, and throughout the book, a great deal of detail is included about the unusual plant species supported when they are left alone to flourish. This naming and explaining slowed the unfolding narrative but proved necessary if the extensive value of this habitat is to be understood. Man too quickly considers value as monetary when it is becoming increasingly clear that nature offers more important health benefits, both physical and mental.

“A visit to a rainforest feels to me like going into a cathedral. Sunlight streams through the stained-glass windows of translucent leaves, picking out the arches of tree trunks with their halos of moss. They’re places that at once teem with life, and yet have a sepulchral stillness to them.”

As the quest progresses there is mention of the cultural significance of these ancient forests – the myths passed down through history and the inspiration provided for more modern writers. Both Conan Doyle and Tolkien wove the awe and mystery of the rainforest environment into their most famous stories.

The medicinal properties to be derived from certain plants therein are, somewhat worryingly, being recognised by those whose interest may not be entirely wholesome.

“The old-man’s beard lichen contains usnic acid, which is considered more effective than penicillin against some bacteria. We’ve only just touched on the capacity of these organisms. One recent review of the pharmaceutical properties of lichens concluded they represent ‘an untapped source of biological activities of industrial importance”

If rainforests are to be protected and allowed to regenerate, the public need to be made aware of them. This raises the potential problem of increasing visitor numbers to small and fragile woodlands. Support is needed but also protection. It is, after all, possible to love a fabulous place to death.

As well as exploring Dartmoor, the author visits fragments of rainforests in the Lake District, across Wales and then Scotland. These areas suffer similar problems. Vast tracts of former rainforest have been ‘sheepwrecked’. Scotland especially is plagued by increasing numbers of deer introduced by wealthy landowners who regard shooting the creatures as a fun activity. In trying to curb numbers of these damaging grazers, advocates of rewilding – often incomers – have clashed with the local community, especially farmers. For rainforests to flourish there needs to be both funding and collaboration.

“The truth is that there is more than enough space in Wales, as there is in the rest of Britain, both for farming to continue and for more rainforests to flourish. But it needs to be a different type of farming: fewer sheep, a shift to cattle and swine, and more space for nature to thrive on the least productive land.”

The unfolding chapters set out how land use constantly changes over time, offering hope that nature can heal if shielded from potential damage and then left to do so. There is also a degree of despair that man too often looks out only for personal gain in the short term. Wider issues are so rarely understood or listened to.

Dormant rainforest returns if conditions are conducive. This means minimal management, not the mass tree planting that introduces nursery raised, non native woodland prone to diseases. Allowing plants to return is only a part of the story. Successful rewilding also requires birdlife and mammals, including predators. Although controversial in certain circles, a compelling case for this is included.

“what we fail to perceive, we often fail to protect”

It is fascinating to consider that Britain could support an ecosystem as important as the Amazon – if the will were there to do at home what many have campaigned for in Brazil. Shrubsole makes a compelling case for how this may be achieved, although points out it would require long term thinking along with legal protections and landowner support. He writes with passion, providing detailed endnotes listing sources and references to scientific studies – a clarion call not to repeat mistakes made in the past.

Any Cop?: A timely and important reminder that intervention is required to protect and restore ecosystems necessary to support all life on earth. Rainforests may be just one piece of this puzzle, but the abundance of their benefits is made clear in this engagingly informative work.

Jackie Law

Book Review: The Book of Phobias and Manias

This review was written for and first published by Bookmunch.

“If a phobia is a compulsion to avoid something, a mania is usually a compulsion to do something.”

With my abiding interest in neuroscience, psychology and sociology, The Book of Phobias and Manias sounded right up my street. It turned out not to be quite what I expected. There is more repetition than depth.

It does what it says on the cover, providing an A-Z of ’99 Obsessions’, some well known and others strangely niche. The length of each entry varies. If only a few lines are offered then little more than a brief description of the problematic behaviour is provided. Those entries spread across several pages also include case studies, with possible treatments and their effectiveness.

Occasionally the author will point towards the lack of ethics in the methods employed by certain scientists when dealing with patients. For example, behavioural psychologists wishing to establish that a phobia could be induced experimented on the nine month old baby of a fellow employee. They proved that a fear response could be conditioned. Soon afterwards the baby’s mother left her job at their hospital, the child taking with him a lifelong dislike of animals.

Exposure based treatments have been shown to be curative in many cases, although the way offered varies. A twelve year old child was treated by psychiatrists who strapped the object of her fear to her back until her screams and cries abated and the girl claimed she was no longer afraid. The author ponders if a new fear, of therapists perhaps, may have replaced the original. Such quips, although rare, help lighten the tone of what can be a troubling read.

There is much discussion of how and why phobias develop. In amongst the theories I couldn’t help but question why Freud was ever taken seriously. He appears to describe every problem encountered as representations of sexual desire. What seems more apparent is that phobias and manias are manifestations of wider social and familial anxieties.

Alongside the serious and life limiting effects sufferers live with, are occasional nuggets to add more light-hearted interest – such as why hanging a sieve above a door deters witches.

Much of what is elucidated may be negative but some can also have meaningful aspects. It is suggested that hoarding (Syllogomania) may be regarded as a way of storing memories. The hoarder’s unwillingness to lose any of these is likened to a biographer who must tell a life story from a wealth of research material, most of which cannot be included in the final edit.

“The story she would tell would be more elegant, more pleasing, and less true.”

Objects, even those seemingly worthless, become a part of the hoarder’s psyche.

Scattered throughout the book are pen drawings that could be potentially triggering to those suffering what is being described. These, along with the imagery evoked by the narrative, can make this an uncomfortable book to chew over and digest. While few may suffer a full blown phobia or mania, the fear or disgust at the core of each diagnosis is mostly grounded in what all feel to some degree. As the author explains, not fearing anything can, in itself, be life threatening.

Not all the phobias and manias included are psychiatric diagnoses. Some mock fads or fashions. A few are jokes, such as aibohphobia: a fear of palindromes.

It is pointed out that fears may be passed on across generations, as much by example as by genes. Phobias and manias are cultural creations, giving a name to a tormenting condition. While some people may regard them as nonsensical, to sufferers they are often severely life limiting.

Women are, apparently, disproportionally phobic. The author posits this could be:

“because the social environment is more hostile to them – they have more reasons to be afraid – or because their fears are more often dismissed as irrational.”

The writing throughout is mostly factual and, in many ways, repetitive. There is much of interest within these pages but the entries tend to merge after a time rather than provide memorable differentiation.

A section listing the author’s sources is included for those wishing to dig deeper.

Any Cop?: Perhaps the best use for this book is as a taster, a reference to dip into for those interested.

Jackie Law

Book Review: My Mind To Me A Kingdom Is

This review was written for and first published by Bookmunch.

“Everywhere, echoes”

On 3 May 2015, Paul Stanbridge’s older brother, Mark, died by suicide. Nine days earlier he had entered an area of woodland near Stoke by Clare on the Suffolk/Essex border. His body was discovered a day after the pivotal event, hanging from a tree, by two local men walking a dog.

Such are the bald facts of a close family death. They are teased out over the course of this narrative – a memoir in which we are told memory cannot be trusted. Timelines remain fluid. What happened is known by the author through hearsay as he cannot yet bring himself to read his copy of the coroner’s report. His grief manifests in wandering considerations of seemingly random interests that then serve as metaphors for aspects of the brothers’ relationship.

“Many of the things I remember are impossibilities, and yet for me they happened.”

For over a year the author’s life stalled as he struggled to process his loss. He would sit at home in the dark, sometimes aware of the presence of someone outside on a rocking chair, smoking. His insomnia was interspersed with underwater dreams.

The book opens with his thoughts on Doggerland, the toponymy of the North Sea and the naming of its regions. There are: maps, history, those who wrote of the place. It becomes an obsession during a time when his mind lacked more regular focus, when he did not wish to think of his new reality. In navigating this labyrinth of grief the past is rewritten each time elements are remembered.

Included herein are stories of strange happenings: a child born with a twin sibling growing inside him, unknown until it eventually kills him; trees that consume articles left beside them – fences and bicycles becoming strange appendages. There are musings on how relics of Christ were valued and dispersed in abundance, far more than could be possible, due to the belief in the power of a lingering presence after death. It is clear that the author’s brother still exerts influence.

Historic interests and researches are interspersed with memories of Mark, coming together to read like a fever dream. There are occasional lucid moments but much of the discourse is oblique. Mark was obviously a disturbed individual, behaving, in his brother’s words, badly in a wide variety of ways.

“If I had to describe him in a single phrase, it would be: wilfully uncooperative.”

In amongst the memories of a troubled relationship, one that led to estrangement and death threats – although there was reconciliation in the months before Mark’s death – there are happier recollections. The author writes of a bike ride they undertook in the Pennines, a moment of joy glimpsed on a person whose chosen way of living was challenging to be a part of, hard to comprehend.

More than a year after Mark’s death, friends of the author asked him to house sit their cottage in Wiltshire while they travelled abroad for several weeks. It was here that a healing of sorts began, to the backdrop of an unexpected interest in horses – creatures never before esteemed. Books on the subject were read avidly, bike rides undertaken to investigate. Insomnia and the underwater dreams faded away.

The interests documented in this memoir – water, horses, trees, memorials – link to Mark in myriad ways. Although distractions at the time to aid coping, there are obvious links in how they are written of here.

The lingering pain of grief comes across clearly. What is set out here does not always make for easy reading.

I struggled to retain engagement through the many digressions. When Mark was referenced directly my attention was awakened but wandering through the reflective researching of the author at this difficult time did not always pique my interest. The obvious poignancy garners sympathy but the narrative style, with its many historic anecdotes, required investment. Perhaps prior knowledge of subjects would have helped.

There were nuggets that kept me reading – mostly when I shared the author’s fascination with a topic, when that prior knowledge existed. I could appreciate how each element was pulled together to make a coherent story in which the shadow of Mark pervaded. I admire what has been written but, in the main, did not enjoy reading it.

Any Cop?: I wrote of the author’s previous publication, Forbidden Line (a retelling of Don Quixote): ‘Perhaps I would have enjoyed some of the seemingly abstruse sections more had I been familiar with the original.’ Once again, I feel a ‘better read’ reader may gain more from this book. It is clever and of interest, but was not for me.

Jackie Law

Book Review: Hysterical

This review was written for and first published by Bookmunch.

“When a person has to repeatedly adjust their emotions to accommodate outside expectations, it leads to emotional exhaustion”

Hysterical: Exploding the Myth of Gendered Emotions does exactly what the strap line claims. Written by a behavioural scientist, it offers a methodical and detailed exploration of why the myth of gendered emotions was established – and continues to be perpetuated. It looks at the language of emotion across different cultures, although points out that most scientific research has been carried out in Europe or America. Much of this was flawed, in ways that are explained, with the science also suffering from selection bias and prejudice.

There are many references to historical texts which reinforce the belief that men are naturally superior to women. In men, emotional expression is assumed situational; in women it is assumed to be innate and irrational.

“The difference between men and women is like that between animals and plants.”

There is much psychology and anthropology in the research cited and discussed. Although written in accessible language, prior interest in the subject will likely increase reader enjoyment. The gendered imbalances and assumptions can be rage inducing, especially as this reaction would likely be regarded as proof of my weak little female emotional incontinence.

“The beliefs that some groups were more or less emotional started many centuries ago, and since then we have seen what was thought of as a ‘civilising’ process, a linear progression from emotion to reason, with education being used to teach people how to control their ‘primitive’ faculties”

The author comes at her subject from a great many angles, looking at how and why women were regarded as prone to hysteria. From ancient times to modern, they have had to adapt behaviour to survive. The societal pressure to conform comes at a mighty cost. Swallowing down an emotional response in order to act as society demands and expects has been shown over time to manifest as ailment – mental and physical.

“emotional expression plays an important role in social organisation, especially in maintaining social positions”

Anger is a tool for claiming agency, and agency in women is rarely well received – ‘considered aberrational’. Attention is focused on calming her down, not to addressing whatever it was that made her angry. In men anger would more often be regarded as justified – as a righteous reaction to whatever riled him.

“Interpretations of behaviours and emotional expressions are largely determined by the stereotypes that we already hold … These stereotypes have persisted through history, and the gender roles and hierarchies have remained stable over time.”

The hierarchies discussed are certainly gendered but also affected by race and class. Societal expectations differ if a woman is pale skinned or dark. Likewise, a man’s anger may be more acceptable if he is white rather than black. From birth, children are taught to conform and absorb what pleases their caregivers, peers, and those wielding power over them.

It is not that the male and female brains are different – modern neuroscience studies have established this is a fallacy. However, brain ‘wiring’ is changed over time as behaviours are learned. There is also great difficulty persuading against entrenched perceptions. This is made even more difficult when media jumps on the slightest suggestion of gendered difference – reporting it for click bait.

“there are very few studies with large samples that show any sex differences, but they receive more attention than the many studies that do not show any sex differences in the brain”

The final chapter explores the effects of pornography and sexbots – the harnessing of artificial intelligence and robotic technology to provide men (it is mostly men) with their ‘ideal’ companion. Although marketed as a remedy for loneliness, the customised ‘dolls’ on the market have been developed with a focus on sexualised features that perpetuate the worst gendered stereotypes.

“The dream he describes is to create a perfect companion: one who is docile, comforting, submissive and always sexually available”

With young boys accessing pornography, there is the very real risk they will prove unable to view girls as equals with agency whose focus is not them and their needs.

“boys thinking that girls are only there to serve them, and girls thinking that their role is to be sexy or invisible”

The role of parents is discussed but does little to raise hope of changing such attitudes, gendered upbringing being subtly ingrained across generations. Time and again studies have shown that daughters are treated differently to sons. However well intentioned there remain differences in the way behaviours are encouraged or dismissed – and this can have a lasting impact.

Any Cop?: A great deal is covered in this wide ranging and fascinating exploration although much of it is a damning indictment of supposedly enlightened human behaviour. An important read, then, in raising awareness of bias and prejudice. A clarion call for base level change.

Jackie Law

Book Review: Isaac and the Egg

This review was written for and first published by Bookmunch.

Isaac and the Egg has been much hyped by its publisher, crossing my radar months before publication. While this would normally make me somewhat wary, the synopsis proved too intriguing to resist (well done, publicists).

It tells the story of the titular Isaac, a man broken by grief. In the depths of a cold winter he drives himself to a lonely wood where he unexpectedly finds an unusual creature. Fearing for its wellbeing, he decides to take it home. The tale is mostly told from Isaac’s point of view but there are occasional sections where the creature gets to share its thoughts and insights. These offer a fresh perspective on this strange human who is obviously hurting so badly. One of the strengths of the story is the creature’s back-story, although this takes some time to reveal.

The book opens with Isaac standing on a bridge, ‘unsure whether to jump or not’. He cannot remember driving there. He has been drinking heavily and regularly but this is not the only cause of the blanks in time he has been suffering. Struggling to cope with the unrelenting pain of loss, he screams into the void – and something screams back. It is enough to distract him from whatever else he might have done next.

Isaac’s life is a mess. He is neither eating nor sleeping properly. He neglects basic self care. He has shut out the many people who wish to try to help him. At first it seems that the creature he brings home is only adding to the many problems he is failing to deal with. Gradually, there is a shift as looking after and hiding this strange new companion serves as a diversion from the damaging fallout resulting from Isaac’s raw grief. As time passes the reader may ask if Isaac is caring for the creature or is it caring for him.

I found this a slow burn of a story, the first third providing necessary background but lacking sufficient tautness to keep me fully engaged. Clever use of foreshadowing encourages the reader to judge certain of Isaac’s actions, and why he is assiduously avoiding particular places. The creature remains something of an enigma until close to the end.

Although a story exploring loss and guilt, there is also humour. The creature’s actions, attributes and attitude mock many human traits. However badly Isaac is behaving, the sense of overwhelming grief is well conveyed. He is bereft and adrift but not as alone as he wishes to be – something he will eventually come to appreciate.

Having early on questioned why I had fallen for the hype, by halfway through I was drawn into and enjoying the tale. What lifts it is how the creature came to be Isaac’s sidekick. To go into further detail would risk detracting from future readers’ right to experience spoiler free developments. I may have been put off initially by certain elements that seemed implausible, but by simply going along with what was apparently being suggested, it all came to make satisfying sense.

The denouement offers hope for when grief becomes overwhelming. If this sounds heavy then rest assured, while the topic certainly is, how it is handled here makes it accessible. Although poignant, the story remains entertaining.

Any Cop?: An impressive debut in which a highly unusual character is used convincingly to effect. A moving but never cloying read.

Jackie Law

Book Review: Never Mind, Comrade

This review was written for and first published by Bookmunch.

“I don’t understand how all this works, how some things are possible in this country, where it’s only about praise and punishment, miracles and catastrophes, but nothing in between.”

Claudia Bierschenk was born near East Berlin and grew up in Thuringia, a village in the GDR. It was surrounded by hills, valleys and thick forests through which the Iron Curtain ran like a scar. The Fence, as it is referred to, was mostly avoided. Locals surreptitiously watched the illegal West German TV channels. They were subjected to regular surveillance and a lack of basic supplies. Queues outside shops quickly formed when rumours of stock arriving trickled down.

Never Mind, Comrade is a memoir of the author’s childhood. It captures the innocence of a youngster who may question why she is required to live as she does but mostly accepts what is imposed – as children must. She comes to realise that joining ‘voluntary’ youth organisations is the only viable way forward. She dreams of travel to the exotic places she reads of but cannot imagine it ever being allowed.

Many of the author’s wider family fled to the West before the newly erected border was closed. They sent regular ‘care parcels’ filled with goods unavailable in Thuringia. Claudia’s clothes were mostly their hand-me-downs. The parcels contained luxury items such as coffee, fruit and fruit juice – if not taken by border guards.

“The whole world talks about the Berlin Wall, and about Berlin, the divided city. And I don’t know what the fuss is about … In East Berlin, the shop shelves are fully stocked, I saw it myself when we went there for a visit. They have more than two flavours of yogurt. In East Berlin they have bananas and cornflakes, and nothing is rationed.”

The book opens on Claudia’s first day at school, a place she comes to dislike despite her obvious intelligence. Under communist rule pupils were expected to be practical and sporty rather than curious and book loving. She is scared by the anger of the teachers and struggles with rules, questioning their logic. Pupils are taught that those in the West aren’t as lucky as them, that America is a warmonger eager to bring forward the Third World War. The children practice throwing disarmed hand grenades in preparation for this coming conflict.

“There are no Nazis in East Germany, only in West Germany”

“murder is something exclusively reserved for capitalist countries”

What comes across is the family life enjoyed despite deprivations and oppressive undercurrents. Claudia’s parents long to leave the GDR but this cannot be openly acknowledged. When the borders are eventually unbarred, despite her parents’ joy, Claudia is fearful of the changes given the propaganda she has been taught.

Structured in short chapters – mostly less than a page in length – episodes from the author’s early life are recounted with a simplicity that belies their depth. Her grandparents, who live in rooms above the family home, tell stories from the war. Claudia observes Russian soldiers on a visit to her other grandmother, fascinated by the strange language she cannot understand. Holidays are taken in ‘brother’ countries, those also under communist rule, although only when permits are granted and checkpoints allow. Family from the West may occasionally visit, bringing with them an aura of wealth known only from TV shows. Neighbours watch all these comings and goings that must be explained and reported.

There are many injections of humour in observations made, and in the author’s childish reactions. Claudia must keep secrets and behave as expected for the safety of all.

The writing is spare yet evocative, offering a snapshot of day to day life in the GDR. Seen through the eyes of a child it is not an overtly political memoir. Claudia longs for the material goods she believes make Western teenagers confident and cool. And yet she cannot entirely set aside fears instilled that capitalists harbour a desire to kill.

Although a memoir of growing up in a closed country, there are many universal themes and truths. We in the West were taught how awful life under communism was, and while there is obviously some truth to this, what Claudia was taught about the West we see now was not entirely inaccurate either.

Any Cop?: This is a pithy and witty account of a childhood coloured by political dogma. A skilfully rendered memoir of living within a country that is now gone.

Jackie Law