Skip to main content

More Book Reviews!

Still trying to catch up, today's reviews concern a trilogy from Melvyn Bragg. I'm not certain, but there is a fair hint of autobiographical detail within.

Melvyn Bragg, The Soldier's Return

The story for the most part concerns that of a man returning to his wife and son after serving in Burma during WWII. No doubt like many of his generation, the central character feels suffocated by life in small town Wigton (in Cumbria, just out of Carlisle). For mine, Bragg effectively captures the inner turmoil and unrest that must have troubled men like Sam Richardson. Those who didn't serve have a tendency to ask too many painful questions (and would not doubt not really want to hear the answers), and the vivid memories rob Sam of sleep. The shift back to the daily grind of work and home is mundane and demeaning, and the difficulties of rebuilding life with his wife and young son (who he barely knows), is fraught with unease, misapprehension, and an inevitable (but silent) frustration.

Without giving too much away, the book is a thoughtful, sensitive, and sympathetic to the ache and difficulties of relationships under repair. In the creation of the central character, Bragg writes with tremendous delicacy yet significant force about the desire and futile effort to return to a past that time and the war has ensured can never happen. Surprisingly unsentimental (almost gloomy in parts), it is however a magnificent mediation on the key themes of love, responsibility, obligation, pain and healing. The book offers a tremendous insight to those of us who had grandparents who must have experienced similar trials and experiences, and a great work of fiction. Recommended most highly.

Melvyn Bragg, A Son of War

The second of the trilogy, it continues the tale of seemingly insignificant lives that encompasses the broader issues of faith, courage, endurance and aspiration. There is a shift in focus from the first book, away from Sam to his wife and son, with Bragg entering into the hearts and minds of his characters, exploring their milieu. For mine, it lacks the poignancy of the first book, perhaps as the pacing of the narrative is far more irregular than The Soldier's Return, this is perhaps understandable as the central focus becomes Joe (Sam's son) and his reflections upon his parents and their relationship. Yet it remains a warm and engaging book, telling a familiar take in a sympathetic, leisurely and believable manner. Very much recommended, essential if you have read the first.

Melvyn Bragg, Crossing the Lines

The third in the series, and for mine the weakest. For the main, this is due to the narrative shifting to the adolescent struggles of young Joe, which (understandably) lack the complexity or depth to those of his father's post-war readjustment. However, it does explore the difficult choices faced by the immediate post-war generation's adjustment to a brave new world of opportunities and challenges, which differ markedly from their parents. In this, Crossing the Lines offers a measured examination of post-war English life, but it does have the tendency to feel a little uneven, and perhaps lacks the complexity in characterisation that so marked the first two novels. Recommended, even more so if you have read the first two.

Despite my preference for the first text, I very much hope that Bragg continues the series. They are all very good reads, and would recommend anyone even slightly interested to check them out. As Molly would say, do yourself a favour...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

This is the moon. Have I mentioned how much I adore the zoom on my camera? It's Theme Thursday you see, and after last week's limp effort, I have been thinking about how I might redeem myself. Then I clicked on the topic and discover that it was BUTTON. We've been hearing a lot about the moon in the past couple of weeks. Apparently some fellas went up there and played golf and what-not forty-odd years ago. The desire to get to the moon, however, was not simply about enhancing opportunities for Meg and Mog titles and skirting local planning by-laws in the construction of new and innovative golf courses. No, all of your Sputniks , "One small steps" and freeze dried ice cream was about one thing , and one thing only : MAD Now, I don't mean mad in terms of "bloke breaks record for number of scorpions he can get up his bum", no I mean MAD as in Mutual assured destruction . When I was a young man you see, there was a lot of talk about the type of m...

But when the strong were too weak to hurt the weak, the weak had to be strong enough to leave.

Can you believe that it is time for Theme Thursday already? Today we are not talking chocolate , toddlers , mess or ignominy . No, today we're dealing with ANIMAL . Now I could have posted a picture of a possum, numbat, wombat, wallaby or any other furry killing machine that roams our fair isle, but I figure that I'd use a far more deadly creature as an example of an animal . Some people - I know them as fools - have chosen to embrace that highfalutin idea that human beans are for some ungodly reason superior to animals. Of course, what these imbeciles seem to forget is that were are simple animals ourselves ! Anyone with a baby, toddler, teenage boy or Queenslander in their household could tell you this. Look at Henry [above]. One chocolate frog in the back of the car on a sunny day and all of a sudden it's Elagabalus meets Bacchus for a quick shandy in the Serengeti and we're down on all fours carrying on like a cat in heat. Fair dinkum, anyone who chooses to ...