A Book Blogger Ties the Knot (Or: How I managed to get as many books into my wedding as possible...)

When my other half proposed in February I knew that somehow we were going to get our two favourite passions into our wedding day – bicycles and books.
Which started, in amongst all the other stressing and panicking, a slow, careful deliberation about which of my many many favourite books I wanted to include in the day. Because when you read as much as I do, you inevitably amass a fairly huge pile of favourites.

I wanted to include favourite books from my childhood, recent favourites, classics I return to again and again, and books we both loved. And unfortunately there was a limit to how many books we could get in their various guises into the marquee. But we were creative…

So when we got married at the end of last month there were an absolute plethora of books in amongst the celebrations.

The tables had books wrapped around the vases on the tables, both to serve as names for each table, but also reading material if anyone got bored and to take away at the end of the night. There were book pages suspended from the bike wheels (of course there were bike wheels, he’s a cycling fanatic!) and the crowning glory? Miniature books decorating the cake. A labour of love done between me, my mother, and my long suffering Boy.

There were favourite cycling books, Terry Pratchett’s and Redwall as his

contribution, but other than that I was granted free reign. And I loved it.

Tamora Pierce, Gerald Durell’s ‘My Family and Other Animals’ and ‘The Princess Bride’ by William Goldman stood for my childhood loves. Harry Potter made an obvious appearance, in amongst more recent favourites like ‘The Fault in our Stars’ by John Green, ‘Seraphina’ by Rachel Hartman and ‘The Night Circus’ by Erin Morgenstern. We had classics like ‘The Time Traveller’s Wife’, ‘American Gods’ and ‘Neverwhere’ and of course the books I cannot live without like the Lady Julia Grey series by Deanna Raybourn, ‘The Scorpio Races’ by Maggie Stiefvater and ‘Unspoken’ by Sarah Rees Brennan. And right at the top, a novel yet to grace the shelves until early next year, the debut by a very great friend, ‘The Last Leaves Falling’ by Sarah Benwell.

They were a talking point, a communal love that had people come racing over to me to tell me how thrilled they were that I loved this particular book and they loved it too. They sparked conversations about books people loved and if you like that you should try this. They forged beginnings of new friendships and I have loved hearing about books that people took away with them and what they thought of them. It was exactly what I wished for as part of my wedding day. A way to celebrate my love of books and sharing them with others, and also to celebrate the books that have brought me and the Boy together over the years.

Review: Wonder by R. J. Palacio

With thanks to Random House Children’s Books for sending me a copy to review.

I won't describe what I look like. Whatever you're thinking, it's probably worse. 
August (Auggie) Pullman was born with a facial deformity that prevented him from going to a mainstream school—until now. He's about to start 5th grade at Beecher Prep, and if you've ever been the new kid then you know how hard that can be. The thing is Auggie's just an ordinary kid, with an extraordinary face. But can he convince his new classmates that he's just like them, despite appearances? 
R. J. Palacio has written a spare, warm, uplifting story that will have readers laughing one minute and wiping away tears the next. With wonderfully realistic family interactions (flawed, but loving), lively school scenes, and short chapters, Wonder is accessible to readers of all levels.

I had heard amazing things about ‘Wonder’ before I started reading it, and they truly didn’t exaggerate.

I was very wary going into the book, after all, you never know with a subject that sometimes requires delicate handling whether the author will handle it or drop it on the floor… hard…

Fortunately R J Palacio tackles it beautifully. The book offers several different viewpoints so that we get to see not only Auggie’s view of himself and the world, but how other people view him to. It also offers us an insight so we see situations from various different angles so what from one person seemed a terribly mean thing to do, would suddenly be seen from a whole new angle.

The different view varied from seeing how Auggie’s sister copes with constantly being pushed to the side in favour of her brother, to how his new friends at school felt about him, to his sister’s boyfriend. It was fascinating and offered a whole new perspective which kept the novel fresh throughout.

Of course the largest sections were from Auggie’s point of view and he was a fascinating narrator. He truly was extraordinary, with his view of the world, of himself, his strength, his kindness and his determination, particularly in the face of some truly horrible taunts, fights and unkindness from those around him.

It was a thought provoking story handled very delicately and I found myself totally enthralled with Auggie’s story. How it feels to be on the inside of a perfectly normal boy who just drew the short straw of the gene pool. He’s not pampered or spoilt, nor is he frustrating, he is an incredibly fresh narrator and I loved sharing his story with him.

It was heart breaking at points to see the cruelty of those around him – not just kids, but adults. There are a series of emails part way through the book that quite literally made my blood boil, and some of the awful things the kids said made me want to reach in and wrap Auggie up in a hug.

My only complaints were that there wasn’t a vast amount of difference between the voices. They all read very much the same, and if I hadn’t been told at the start of each section who was speaking it wouldn’t have been particularly obvious.

It was also, I have to admit a decidedly cheesy ending, but actually, I like happy endings to it didn’t really both me – I know that some people might find it a little too sweet after the trials of the book though.

It does come across as one very decided, white middles class view point of the world, which may be frustrating to some, but because that is the only view point Auggie really has, I didn’t find it too grating.

This truly is a wonderful book – thought provoking, funny, incredibly hard to read at some points, and joyful at others. I would recommend reading it with a box of tissues though…

Review: The Fault In Our Stars by John Green

Diagnosed with Stage IV thyroid cancer at 12, Hazel was prepared to die until, at 14, a medical miracle shrunk the tumours in her lungs... for now. 
Two years post-miracle, sixteen-year-old Hazel is post-everything else, too; post-high school, post-friends and post-normalcy. And even though she could live for a long time (whatever that means), Hazel lives tethered to an oxygen tank, the tumours tenuously kept at bay with a constant chemical assault. 
Enter Augustus Waters. A match made at cancer kid support group, Augustus is gorgeous, in remission, and shockingly to her, interested in Hazel. Being with Augustus is both an unexpected destination and a long-needed journey, pushing Hazel to re-examine how sickness and health, life and death, will define her and the legacy that everyone leaves behind.

This book is stunningly beautiful.

I’ve spent a long time after finishing it thinking about what I wanted to say in my review. So much of it has already been said before in the numerous reviews out there that talk about how beautiful, how heartbreaking, how tragic this book is, and I feel like I’m just going to repeat all of that, but here goes.

I loved this book. I loved Hazel. Her strength, her quiet determination to try to just keep going each day, her humour, her realistic outlook – it was pitched absolutely perfectly. She was such an incredible character and was the perfect narrator to take us through. At moments I was laughing out loud.
“Congratulations! You’re a woman! NOW DIE.”
And then I would be sobbing my heart out because it was so unfair and horrible and downright depressing, and yet Green manages to keep the story as a compelling a beautiful piece of artwork, instead of some morbid look at cancer children.

I adored Augustus, he was such a fantastic character, and the two of them bounced off each other and created some beautifully funny, poignant and touching scenes. They made such a fantastic pair, the humour, the realistic outlook on life, the downright tragic moments. It was written so beautifully

That’s one of the things I love most about Green’s books. His writing is so unbelievably beautiful. I can’t even put into words how stunning it is. I first found it in ‘Looking for Alaska’ and I wondered if that was a one off, or whether this book would speak to me in the same way, and it really really does. It’s so incredibly beautiful, and it was for his writing that I originally picked up this book. Not for the story – I’m more of a fantasy kind of girl – but his prose.
Although once I started reading I couldn’t help but fall in love with the story.

At the same time Green has made it very accessible and relatable even to those who aren’t cancer sufferers. I have chronic pain syndrome, something that makes me similarly have good and bad days, try out a plethora of new and exciting medications to ease the pain, and provokes a reaction in friends not unlike the reaction Hazel experiences. Whilst I am in no way comparing my own experiences to those of Hazels, I still found some of her thoughts and sentiments about those things to really strike home in a way that I truly wasn’t expecting from this book. It suddenly made it feel more personal in a way that I wasn’t prepared for. And I was impressed. When I went into the book I almost expected it to be some sort of cloying preaching book about cancer that I, as someone with no experience of it personally or in my family, wouldn’t really connect with. Whereas in reality it was a touching book that brought so much to the table, and allowed me to identify with it in ways that I wouldn’t have expected.

And I cried. God how I cried. It was inevitable and yet utterly heart breaking, and despite the fact that it was a book, and despite the fact that I had only known these characters for a couple of hours, it touched me and provoked emotional responses in me that I didn’t expect to have.

I loved this book. I cannot recommend it enough. It is beautiful, and heart breaking, and took my breath away. And stayed with me long after I turned the last page.

Review: Everything Beautiful Began After by Simon Van Booy

Simon Van Booy brings to the page his unique talent for poetic dialogue and sumptuous imagery in this his remarkable debut novel of love and loss, dependence and independence. Rebecca has come to Athens to paint. Born and raised in the south of France, Rebecca's mother abandoned her and her sister when they were very young, left to be raised by her loving yet distant grandfather. Young and lost, she seeks solace in the heat of Athens. George has come to Athens to translate language. Dropped off at a New England boarding school when he was a child, he has close to no relationships with anyone, except the study of ancient language and alcohol. Henry has come to Athens to dig. An archaeologist, Henry is on-site at Athens during the day, and roams the Agora on the weekend. Three lost and lonely souls whose worlds become inexorable enmeshed with consequences that ripple far among the ruins of ancient Athens.

Simon Van Booy has a beautiful way with prose that left me in tears at some points when reading his two short story collections ‘Love Begins in Winter’ and ‘The Secret Lives of People in Love’. So I was eagerly anticipating his first full novel ‘Everything Beautiful Began After.’

And it does contain a lot of the things that I loved in Booy’s shorter prose. His trademark lyrical beauty and skill with words is present throughout, but unfortunately some of the skill that weaves his stories together isn’t quite as tight when lengthened to encompass an entire novel.

The story is divided into four ‘books’, each dealing with a new phase in the story. Book one covers half of the span of the novel and is exquisite. Told in third person the story details Rebecca, Henry and George in both the present and the events in their past that have shaped them into the people they’ve become. It twines their lives together beautifully and I loved reading this section. I was swept away in the descriptions, the scenes and the use of all the senses to create the world of Athens. It’s melancholy, stunning, a little depressing but utterly gorgeous.

However, books two and three really didn’t do it for me. They’re told in second person perspective although still from Henry’s side. The lyrical beauty of the first book is turned here into an overly obsessive list of things that ‘Henry’ can see, feel and hear. It became overly depressive and as a result I just wanted it to be over. I don’t mind depressive books – book one is depressing, but it couples that with beauty. This was just pressing and heavy and I wanted to finish it as quickly as I could.
That’s not to say it wasn’t still good and well written – it just wasn’t my cup of tea.

Book four made me feel a little less like sitting in a corner and crying – it offers hope at the end of grief and darkness, and leaves the reader with a lot to think about long after the last page has been turned.

Van Booy’s first book is a gorgeously melancholy look at love, grief, death and the way that grief can distort our memories and thoughts, and take on a life of its own.