Mad Mike's Writing blog, book of the year 2023

Welcome friends, book bloggers and avid readers alike, to my annual book of the year post. As usual, this post is not necessarily about books written or published this year, it’s about books that I have read this year, and with dozens to choose from it hasn’t been easy. I won’t bore you with a big long list, for that you can look me up on Goodreads so, without further ado –

In at number five is: Things We Lost in the Fire by Mariana Enriquez.
This collection of short stories is exactly as advertised on the cover and, as with all collections of stories I guess - the ones I've read anyway - there are ones that stand out but none were lacklustre; none failed, in my opinion. All the stories here have a little something about them and Enriquez’s style is very much no holds barred, which unifies them, be they spooky, bloody, fierce, scary, sad or obscene, they're written with passion and well worth the time it takes to read them. If pushed, my favourites were: Adela’s House, Under the Black Water and, Things We Lost in the Fire.
Creepy, and excellent for it.

In fourth place this year: The Shining by Stephen King.

You know the writing's good when five hundred pages pass in the blink of an eye. With a dead women in a bath, a lift that works on its own, topiary that attacks and kills, a ballroom full of people when its actually empty, all mixed up with the claustrophobia of being holed up (albeit in a massive hotel), in such an isolated and snowbound location, with a man who is slowly losing his mind, a woman whose fear virtually drips from the page and a little boy who sees more with his mind than with his eyes, you end up with a truly fabulous book. If, like me, you choose to read this book during a dark dank November, then you might just be looking over your shoulder at the slightest thing. Shivers down the spine. One of his best (that I've read).

In bronze medal position, then: Operation Pedestal by Max Hastings
I know books like this aren't for everyone; they are horrific beyond measure, garner images of brutality few would actually enjoy reading about but, amidst all the carnage, books like this are full of hope, love and joy and above all, books like Operation Pedestal are so ruthlessly researched, so expertly written and so gripping that you feel like you can taste the salt of the sea air, feel the warmth of the Mediterranean sun and hear the drone of incoming dive-bombers as you learn about this most dramatic of historical events. I for one, am very glad that books like this exist and whole heartily recommend them to all but the youngest of readers.
Need I say it; Five Stars.
 

So, the runners up spot goes to: Good Omens (0r, The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch), which is the correct and full title of this hilarious novel, by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.
Never before (and never again I suspect), have I read a book like it. It is immaculately written, funny - very funny - serious and is full of characters you can either relate to or would want to be friends with. Maybe not the four horsemen of the Apocalypse though, don't befriend them! They ride motorbikes by the way and although DEATH, War & Famine have survived, Pestilence had to retire in 1936 due to advances in medicine but fear not, they're joined by, rather fittingly, Pollution. Also, the world’s ending. Next Saturday in fact, just around teatime!
I’ll definitely do a full blog post on this one as it’s one of the best books I've read in a long time and certainly the funniest, and so I see nothing else for it but to recommend it to the big wide world, kick myself for not reading it sooner and award Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch, five stars.
 

And the winner, my book of the year 2023 is: Imajica by Clive Barker.
The world building in this book is second to none and juxtaposes its extreme wonders with a London as mundane as it would be on a rain-soaked Tuesday commute in January, which grounds the reader whilst letting their imagination fly, which I found very clever.
Fantasy isn't a genre I necessarily gravitate towards but when a book is this well written I would argue that genre is irrelevant and so, on that basis, let us disregard that and focus on the facts. This book, in spite of its magic, its world building, its fantastical dominions and all those that live and die there, is about love. The deepest love a person can feel. The love that sometimes drives people to do silly, dangerous and illegal things but, above all, LOVE. (Okay, it's about sex too, quite a lot of sex in fact but we'll gloss over that for this mini review). And because we all love, be it a partner, a parent, friends, the cat, art, music or someone we shouldn't, this book will definitely have something within its pages for each and every one of you.

Imajica. Probably the best book you’ve never read and I can’t recommend it highly enough. Five Gold Stars.
                                       

To finish, I would just like to wish you all a very happy New Year and hope you find happiness in 2024, in whatever form that might take. 

A Cat's Christmas Eve! by yours truly - Merry Christmas.

There was a deep, deep silence all about the house,

Bar the crunching of the bones of a poor dead mouse.

The cat, she’d had fun, the chase had been long,

But the mouse was now eaten, even the tail was gone.

 

During her pursuit, baubles had been smashed,

The tree-topper dislodged, came down with a crash,

She’d torn all the crackers until they were shredded,

A large vase of flowers was now all deadheaded.

 

In spite of this destruction, she’d woken up no kids,

So settled down to sleep, was about to close her lids,

But then there was a noise, a grunt and a groan,

From the chimney it did come, this dulcet tone.

 

And just a minute later, two boots did appear,

Followed rather promptly by a sizable rear.

But with the room in ruins and full of detritus,

The cat thought, ‘HIDE! Better not let him find us’

 

But quick was dear old Santa, for he needed to be,

And seeing such destruction, and the fallen tree.

Cursed to himself and stared at the cat,

Before he drew a wand, from his big red hat.

 

He whispered very quietly and the tree was uprighted,

The baubles lights and crackers, were all reunited,

And happy with his work, he placed his gifts around,

The cat it seemed had scarpered, nowhere to be found.

 

So, Santa having finished fancied mince pies and cream,

But found the cat sat sitting and looking quite supreme.

She licked her lips all delicate, appearing very happy,

And said to Santa in ‘Meow’, that he had better hurry.

 

Santa saw the clock and gave the cat a wink,

Was up and out the chimney before she’d even blinked.

And with a Ho, Ho, Ho, he shouted his goodbye,

As the reindeers and his sleigh, zoomed off into the sky.

 

So, everything was silent, all about the house,

But . . . WAIT, WHAT . . .!

Was that the squeak of another mouse?

Slaughterhouse 5, book review. (Kurt Voonegut)

Hmm!
If you're looking for a war novel where a time traveling optometrist is abducted by aliens for their zoo, then I might have found just the book for you!
Set in the 1940s, 50s, 60s . . . you get the idea, the story of Billy Pilgrim going from 1940s war torn Europe - Dresden to be precise - where he is a complete idiot and totally out of his depth (he doesn't even have shoes or a gun), to being a successful optometrist and fairly wealthy - assisted by his father-in-law along the way - interspliced with a trip to Tralfamadore as a zoo specimen, could be considered interesting but in reality it's just plain weird.
Billy Pilgrim has had his share of good luck in life like, when he was in the thick of the allied firebombing of Dresden during World War II and survived (the estimates on how many died there varies but at least 25ooo perished, which puts some perspective on things), and he's had some bad luck, too; he actually knows exactly when and where he is going to die and can't do anything about it so, happily (maybe reluctantly would be a better word), he plods on.
I found very little 'anti-war' about this book (I say that because I've seen it referred to as an anti-war novel several times), but appreciate that when it was written it could well have come across that way.

This is a short book so there's not a lot of depth to any of it but with the author actually having been in the war, in Dresden, that part, along with when he visits an old war buddy, feels realistic but, when he's kidnapped and taken to Tralfamadore along with Montana Wildhack - so they can procreate in a Zoo there - I couldn't help but wonder if the author had run out of things to say, didn't want to go into the war in any more detail (for personal reasons maybe), or just couldn't be bothered, so made up the Tralfamadore bits.

If he'd left out the Sci-fi part and concentrated more on Billy Pilgrim's life, before, during and after the war, the novel would have been better in my opinion, even if his pre and post war life was mundane.

Parts of this book are narrated, too, which is confusing and might catch you out at first, and added to the fact that Billy Pilgrim's life isn't interesting, the alien abduction childish and weird, the timeline hopping around, which baffled me to the point where I had to go back and retrace my steps a few times, I started wondering whether to just give up and read something else.

Maybe it's because I go in cold on books, doing little to no research before I dive in, so don't know what to expect or maybe it's because this book is boring but, to summarise, if you like your books quirky and slightly baffling then this will certainly please but for me it just didn't work.

Two stars for, Slaughterhouse Five then and another American classic I'll have to add to my, 'Why don't I get on with American Literature,' pile! 😔

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Autumn, book review. (Ali Smith)

Being part one of the author's 'Seasons' series, I first read this about five years ago but, having read Spring and Winter last year (see post 04/09/22 & 06/10/22 respectively), I thought a re-read in order.

With the same style of narrative but lacking the cold of Winter and the brightness of Spring, Autumn is my least favourite of the series so far but it's not all bad. (I'm yet to read Summer ).

There is love and hope and sadness: there is art and war and loneliness, there is growing up and growing old, being young and being bold, angst between family and friendships between neighbours, and not a small amount of chatter about a certain antiques show on the television - no, not the Fiona Bruce one!

Elisabeth meets Daniel, who is seventy years her senior, when they become neighbours and, twenty years later, with Daniel on his death bed, Elisabeth is the only person who visits.

Daniel spends his days asleep, dreaming of his past life, how he fell in love when he was young, fell in love with an artist, the only female Pop Artist in fact and how that love was never reciprocated.

The artist in question, Pauline Boty, influenced Elisabeth enough when she was young for her to become an art lecturer, so Daniel's love for Pauline did, in a way, lead Elisabeth to her chosen career.

Aside from art and love and friendship, this novel is about Brexit, but it's about human failure and human achievement too.

Elisabeth's mother's failure to see her daughter and Daniel's relationship as unusual but healthy, as opposed to just, wrong. Daniel's failure to move on from a love he never had. Elisabeth's failure to form strong bonds with people and find love herself but, then you have to ask: are these really failures or are they choices?

Could it not be an achievement that Daniel dedicated his life to his career and later on helped Elizabeth with hers? That Elisabeth isn't looking for love, or is just plane happy in her own company? Could we not argue that Brexit is both a good and a bad thing, depending on how you look at it?

Autumn is written in a way that leaves me confused. It hops around a bit and the style - as I have eluded to before - is somewhat strange, and I've yet to work out exactly what this book is about. I suppose it's about all of the above: love, friendship, fear and hate, being old and being young, art and division but even though I've had plenty of time for all of that to sink in, I'm still not sure what to take from it, even after a re-read.

Three stars.

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Coming Up For Air, book review. (George Orwell)

If you like books about absolutely nothing but are so beautifully written that you end up speeding through the narrative as if it's the most exciting literary experience you've ever encountered then read, Coming Up For Air by George Orwell.

Our main protagonist, George Bowling is forty-five years old, weighs too much, doesn't much like is wife, thinks his kids are a nuisance and wishes he were young, so he could spend his days fishing.

As a traveling salesman he's reasonably successful, pulling in five to seven pounds a week - it's 1939 by the way - but he has an undeniable passion for his past and what could have been.

A large chunk of this novel is about Bowling's past and is written in a way that, in spite the fact that I could never truly comprehend what living in England was like over a hundred years ago, felt familiar. The author's ability to wrap you up in George Bowling's childhood, his father's work in the shop selling seeds and animal feed, his mother keeping house and what school was like were all superb and made me wonder if there was an autobiographical element to this book.

When war comes, George Bowling signs up and goes to France but is injured so returns home to convalesce before being sent to a small village in Cornwall where he spends a somewhat idyllic few years looking after a supply depot that doesn't exist. After the war he chances across one of his superior officers from the army whilst in London and lands himself a job which sets him on the road to all that follows: a three-bedroom house in the suburbs, a mortgage, a wife, kids and the monotony that is everyday life.

That monotony however is broken when George Bowling wins a bet and, having a whole seventeen pounds of undisclosed cash to his name, decides to take a holiday - telling his wife he's going on a business trip - he head back to his childhood town.

But, the shop his father ran is now a tearoom, the secret pond so full of fish when he was a young boy is no more, and the fields in which he absently wandered all those years before have been built upon and, due to the flashback nature of this book, how much we've been told about George Bowling's childhood and the skill of the author, you can't help but feel a deep sadness, a longing for what came before, and it emanates from the page.

So, Coming Up For Air is a superbly written book about the absolutely ordinary but a book I can and will heartily recommend. Four Star.

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To Have and Have Not, book review. (Ernest Hemingway)

What a strange book.

Harry Morgan is a fisherman who just got duped out of over eight hundred dollars by an American tourist (it's the 1930s by the way and the man who chartered Harry's boat, used his bate and lost his rods and reels for three weeks, has scarpered without paying), so he can no longer make a living out of fishing so, instead, he uses his boat illegally to transport both booze and people from Florida to Cuba, or Cuba to Florida.

After the tourist disappears, Harry's first 'job' is to take a dozen Chinamen from Cuba to America for the princely sum of twelve hundred dollars, but surmising a double cross, Harry makes sure he gets the drop on the ring leader and then dumps the twelve men on a local beach.

Then it's booze, which ends up with his boat being seized and him being shot at - which costs him his arm - and so, with no boat, only one arm and a family to feed, he steals a boat and ferries four Cubans from Florida back to Cuba so they can join the revolution.

There is some good writing here: the gunfight at the very beginning, his double-cross of the chief Chinaman, the night at the Veteran's bar and the ambushing of the Cubans before they get to close to home and shot him first, are all standout moments but the rest of the book just jumps around, with some of it being completely pointless.

There's seemingly random chapters about characters that have little or nothing to do with the overall story randomly interjected through the narrative, which is really weird - I can only guess that the author needed a few more 'haves' to balance against Harry and the rest of the 'have nots'.

One example is when Harry walks into Freddy's bar and calls one of the customers a whore, for the book to then shot of on a tangent and follow the loves, lives and affairs of these strangers until Harry comes back a few chapters later and the main story thread continues.

This happens again at the very end of the book when we're randomly taken from cabin to cabin of all the luxury yachts in the marina - in great detail I might add - from a man in his sixties worrying about his outstanding tax bill in America, through a family who are good and wholesome and treat everyone well and so sleep soundly, to a woman who is contemplating whether to take a sleeping draft of not, and again, I thought this was really strange. (Ironically this was one of the better written parts of the book, even though it had nothing to do with the story arc.)

So, To Have and Have Not, is good in parts but those parts are few and far between, so I can't really recommend it. Two stars.

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The Diary of a Young Girl, book review. (Anne Frank)

Okay, this might get a bit controversial but here goes.

Have you ever read a book where the subject matter is so boring but for some reason, be it the overarching premise, a genre you like, a character you gel with - maybe it's a favourite author so you feel obliged to read it - or a myriad other reasons, you still continue? Well, this book is like that, just not for any of the above things I've mentioned.

Let me explain.

Reading three hundred plus pages of anyone's diary when you don't know them, have little to nothing in common with them, grew-up fifty years apart in different countries, would be boring in itself but add to that that the author of the diary was a young girl, that the diary spans over two years of confinement in just one house/apartment, and that she lived with only her parents, her sister and four others, and you might be forgiven for thinking she'd have nothing to say, and to some extent she didn't.

There are many days where Anne Frank documents the mundane: what she ate for lunch and dinner, how she argued with her mother, got frustrated with the selfishness of others, particularly over food, cooking and chores but over time she writes about her love for her father, her total indifferent to her mother and sister, her feelings for the boy they are living with, her periods and how proud she feels at becoming a young woman - she even questions her sexuality at one point - but in most part the book is repetitious in nature. Under the circumstances I wonder what anyone else would have had to say, day in day out, if nothing ever changed, and so the monotony is to be expected.

This diary however is more than that. If you read between the lines, pick up on the subtext it underlines the author's loneliness, her frustrations, her inability to vocalise her feelings - she is the youngest and therefore often chastised for being silly, selfish, ignorant and too young to be told or to know things - so she painstakingly wrote everything down and it is this that takes the diary out of the boring category and adds an element of intrigue.

She writes about her longings for the future, how they spent hours on edge each day making no sound: unable to use the loo, have windows open, even walk around whilst the workers were in the shop below. She writes about her fears when the allied planes fly over, when the anti-aircraft guns fire, when she hears both good and bad news over the radio and dares to dream of an end. How she had the energy, the will power to continue writing through those dark days and nights, is testament to what a strong willed and determined young women she was.

Knowing how this book ends before you've even picked it up, adds a deep sadness to all those hopes when you read them, for as a reader you already know that they have been dashed and that she, Anne Frank and her family - with the exception of her father - will all die before the war's end.

This book is full of emotion: fear, happiness, loneliness, love, and the emotions you as a reader bring to it, but most of all it is filled with hope but, due to the nature of the author's death and that of her family, it left me with a profound feeling of sadness when turning the final page and reading Anne Frank's last diary entry.

I shan't put a star rating on this book and never will, but I have added it to my Goodreads bookshelves as a 'Must Read', which should tell you all you need to know.

Happy Easter to all those who celebrate.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them, message me with your recommendations.