Favourite books of all time (apart from Jane Eyre)

Having mentioned - once or perhaps one hundred times - before that Jane Eyre is my favourite book OF ALL TIME, I decided to review which books apart that hallowed tome were my favourites.  After excluding books I've read this year or last because I felt it was too soon to tell if they will be all-time favourites, I eventually came up a list of five books that I still think about years after first reading them. 

1. Wild Swans by Jung Chang
This epic memoir reviews the lives of three generations of women in Chang's family - Chang's grandmother, Chang's mother, and Chang herself. A beautiful, absorbing tale of these women's lives and the major challenges they faced under Mao's communist regime.

2. Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel
Mantel was so convincing in her account of Thomas Cromwell's rise to power under Henry VIII that I had to keep reminding myself that I was reading a fictional account of his life - that these weren't actually Cromwell's thoughts and feelings. The downside is that it completely ruined historical fiction for me. After reading Wolf Hall, I've struggled to enjoyed reading a historical fiction book (which I often did before) because it is never as good as this.

3. Overcoming low self-esteem by Melanie Fennell
To say that this book changed my life would be an overstatement - to even call it a favourite is an exaggeration. But, it really helped me overcome some "issues" shall we say. While I don't exactly have an abundance of self-esteem these days, I'm a lot more confidence because of this book.

4. 84 Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff
A simply lovely book that charts the correspondence between a somewhat grumpy US writer and a UK bookseller. Read it to remind yourself that being yourself - even if you're grumpy and not that successful - is a perfectly fine thing to be.

5. The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood 
This book within a book (click on the link as Goodreads will be able to describe it better than I can) has long stopped being a favourite for me; other books have pushed it from my memory. So much so that I wasn't going to include it in this list (which is why it's not included in the photo). However, I decided to add it in because I think it was one of the first literary fiction books that I ever read. Retrospectively, the book opened my mind to what writing could be; how stories - that weren't classics - didn't have to follow a set formula but could challenge your expectations. Given that I primarily read literary fiction these days, it seems only fair that I include it in this list.

Favourite books of the year so far..

Given that we are now halfway through the year, I (like pretty much every other book blogger/vlogger) decided to compile a list of the best books I've read during the last six months. Of the 28 books I've read since January, to be honest, there have been many that I didn't enjoy or can't even remember reading (see my earlier post A frustrating reading year). But, I have managed to come up with five that I actually rated five stars on Goodreads - so, in alphabetical order (according to the author's surname), they are as follows:  

Maurice by E.M. Forster
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A wonderful and courageous (given that it was written in 1914) novel. There were definitely some moments of implausibility, but you could say that about many a book that features a heterosexual love story.

What is painfully realistic is the torture that Maurice goes through realising he is "different" and the loneliness he feels because of that difference. His attempts to overcome his difference (i.e. his sexuality) are utterly heartbreaking.

There's a line in the book that England would never legalise homosexuality because the English have an inclination to ignore human nature. It's comforting to know that Forster was wrong on that score (he did actually live long enough to see homosexuality be decriminalised). While things are far from perfect in terms of accepting that some people are gay (or bi or don't otherwise fit into the heterosexual bracket), we have certainly come a long way.

 The Emancipation of B by Jennifer Kavanagh
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I bought this because I know and like the author, Jennifer, so wanted to support her work. My plan was that I would be nice about it on Goodreads if liked it but keep quiet about it if I thought it was rubbish. What was I not expecting was to love it but I did.

This book is amazing. I was genuinely hooked from the first page. Most authors if their plot, as this book does, revolved around a modern-day hermit, would make the said hermit mad or bad - or probably both. But Jennifer's B is neither; he's someone who is fulfilling a lifelong desire for complete solitude. The story focuses on how solitude enables him to truly know himself and to truly understand his life. However, it is also reassuringly realistic. B struggles with the lack of contact with others and, as you might expect, with the sheer boredom of it all.

As an introvert, I've often want to shut the world out - in fact, today, I opted for staying at home by myself to read this book rather than go to a social event where, gasp, I might have to speak to people. Therefore, it was fascinating to read something that explores the idea of total solitude and, more importantly, how it wasn't necessarily a terrible thing.

I am know I biased because I consider Jennifer a friend (with a lowercase f; she'll get the reference), but I think this book probably would have been nominated for award had she'd been more of a "name". She's known as author in Quaker circles and is known for work as a literary agent, but it's a shame she's not better known as a novelist in more general circles. Her work is really interesting and deserves more recognition.

Annie's Ghosts: A Journey into a Family Secret by Steve Luxenberg
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

An absolutely fascinating story of how Luxenburg tries to find out what happened to his mother's "secret" sister Annie - only finding out about her existence a few month's before his mother's death. More than that it explores why his mother kept her sister hidden and how a woman, as Annie was, could be committed to a mental asylum and essentially forgotten about.

I think the book also taps into a fear that you have when someone you love dies - did you really known them? Will some secret come out that changes how you view them? How Luxenberg comes to terms with the fact that his beloved mother kept a major secret from him and his siblings (and possibly his father) is another intriguing element of the book.

The only downside of this book is that it's difficult to get hold of in the UK (I had to order it via Amazon)

My Own Story: Inspiration for the major motion picture Suffragette by Emmeline Pankhurst
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Emmeline Pankhurst, these days, has a reputation for being stern and deeply unforgiving of those who have the temerity to disagree with her - a reputation that's probably deserved given that she cut off all ties with two of her daughters (even packing one off to Australia).

But, what this book shows is that she was undeniably a great leader who galvanised women into action. While her militancy tactics may or may not have done more harm than good in getting woman the vote, she certainly was instrumental in raising the issue in public consciousness.

I can't help but feel that, like the double standards she so often refers to in this book. history would have treated her differently had been male. There's been many a male leader with just as many personality flaws as Pankhurst but who are remembered for their achievements rather than the fact they were difficult customers.

 The Last Act of Love: The Story of My Brother and His Sister by Cathy Rentzenbrink
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I was totally engrossed with this heartbreaking account of a sister dealing with her brother's accident and the aftermath from the moment I read the first chapter. So much so that I sacked off doing usual Saturday morning chores and spent time reading this instead.

Anyone was ever lost anyone they love will relate to this book - whether their loved one died suddenly or died after a long illness (or in the brother's case, died after being in a permanent vegetative state). The decisions that Cathy and her parents have to make are torturous: if they need to accept all hope is gone and their son/brother will never recover, if they should believe that he is "there" in some form (even if he can't communicate the fact), and what they action they should take if he really is gone. Does make you realise that just because you can keep someone "alive" with modern medicine, you sometimes perhaps shouldn't (note I am not talking about someone who has been left severely disabled; I am talking about someone who has no signs of conscious thought).

What Rentzenbrink does so poignantly is to showcase hard the grief process is, particularly when you're grieving for someone who is technically still alive. The recriminations about what you did and did not do, that you should be coping better, or that you should be living your life a certain way. She doesn't really provide any answers to these questions (because there are none); just that you need to be kind to yourself and learn to accept you'll never be "over it".

A childhood favourite

The Best of Girl Annual 1952-59 (edited by Denis Gifford) - which, despite its name, was actually published in 1990 - was one of my favourite books when I was 10. So much so that I regularly re-read it well into my late teens (and possibly even early 20s). In a fit of nostalgic indulgence, I decided to re-read it (again!) to see if I would find it as enchanting as I first did 26 years ago (eek!).  

But as excited as I was to have the book back in my hands (my childhood copy being long gone, I had to order another one from AbeBooks), I was apprehensive - I remembered that some of the comic strips were "dated" in their views towards people of colour, so I was concerned that these strips would now strike me as so racist that I could no longer think of the book fondly.

Well, the book is - by today's standards - downright racist towards people of colour. Whenever someone not white is featured, they are usually a servant of some sort and, worst still, tend to have a limited vocabulary. In Sumuna's South Sea Isle, for example, both the titular character Sumuna and a character called Loki (black and depicted as just wearing shorts) speak in the third person and look up to the white male hero (fully dressed when not swimming). In fairness, Sumuna is shown to be brave and have initiative as is the character Lotus Flower (!) in the story Martine and The Mystery of Golden Buddha. Plus the plot of one story, Vicky has an adventure in Spain, centres on a gypsy man coming to the rescue of a boy whose father has treated the man with prejudice. Overall, the casual racism makes for uncomfortable reading but as mentioned in my previous post, you do have to judge a book by the standards of when it was written. Therefore, my enjoyment of the book isn't marred - I just wouldn't rush to read it to my nieces (or nephews)!

What I didn't expect when I re-read it was the fun of picking up on all the things I'd missed when I was a naive 10-year-old (and teenager for that matter). There are several instances when the heroines try to help someone who is in "a jam" (they are all, of course, resolutely middle class) but do the exact opposite of what most logically thinking people would do. In Flick and The Vanishing Girl, Flick sets out to rescue the actually kidnapped girl but at no point considers calling the police (if she's was in a horror film, she'd no doubt go down into the cellar rather than run out the door) and doesn't even explain to Jim the Milkman (wearing a flat cap just to stress the fact he's working class) why she needs him to give her a lift (other than "it's terribly urgent"). Obviously, as per the Famous Five, being have-a-go heroes works out for them and they always end up saving the day. 

Then there's the star profiles, which are masterclasses in glossing over the complex parts of celebrities' lives. They neglect to dwell on why Dirk Bogarde was the star who "shuns the bright lights" (er because he couldn't live openly as a gay man) and make no mention of the deeply unfair bad press that Gracie Fields received during the War because she had had the temerity to marry an Italian-born man (who had actually emigrated to USA in 1914). Mind you, there's a lot to be said about not mentioning everything about a celebrity's life. I know more stuff about Kim Kardashian than I actually ever wanted to because I am constantly bombarded by headlines every time she as much as sneezes. 

In summary, I do still have great affection for the book. Yes, it's dated but not all of the values belong in the 1950s, It shows girls being brave, clever, and kind - which is a good message for all children (whatever their gender identity) I think.