The Monthly Line: May 2025

Ramping up the reading

Hello dear readers,

This month of reading caught me in a sweet spot of going on maternity leave but not having a baby, which gave me a lot of time for reading!

We have travelogues, black humour, and French fairytales. Let's dive in.

One. Birding by Rosie Ruane

I picked this up lured by the premise of the members of a former girl band coming back together older and wiser. It didn't quite turn out to be exactly that. The main character is going to stay with her former band mate, but she's reeling from the realisation that an old flame was actually her abuser. Completely separately, a woman trapped by her mother into a co-dependent relationship, is grappling with what it would cost to win her freedom. Overall I think I enjoyed it, but it felt quite clunky in parts, with a lot of telling rather than showing - you could see the cogs turning a little too much. It was also written at the height of the MeToo movement, so it was interesting to read a literary reflection on that.

How I read it: on the tube mostly

Two. The Modern Fairies by Clare Pollard

This very self-aware novel is set in the pomposity and circumstance of the court of Louis XIV. It follows a group of women and a few men, who meet regularly to discuss fairy tales, smuggling deeper meaning about the corruption and decay of the court into their tales. It's loosely based on real events but with a post-modern nod and a wink to the limits of historical research. I enjoyed hearing the first cut of what have become classic (and sanitised) tales, and the intrigue of the court is really fun to read about too, though with a darkness lurking beneath that belies the sparkling exterior.

How I read it: mostly at home, loving the escape to 17th century France

Three. Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld

This pandemic set novel read like a time capsule from a dystopian past, and yet was also a romantic comedy? (The clue is in the name). It's a comedy because our female protagonist - Sally - is a writer on an American comedy show, which is an obvious (and affectionate) rip off of Saturday Night Live, the weekly sketch show which was been running for 50 years. Our male protagonist Noah is one of their famous guest hosts, a musician who Sally deems "too hot" to be flirting with her when they write a sketch together during the prep for the show. It's an OK story, but I found Sally's neuroses quite irritating the third go round the cycle of 'how can he possibly like me' etc. It was fun to imagine how a famous pop star might slot into a "normal" person's life though.

How I read it: on holiday with many friends and little time for reading

Four. My good bright wolf by Sarah Moss

This memoir by the novelist Sarah Moss was a chance find in a great bookshop (Topping and company in Bath for those interested) and I found it fascinating and moving. It follows her lifelong struggle with anorexia, which began as a young girl living an outwardly privileged life but with a family who were borderline neglectful and saw controlling what you eat as being the pinnacle of self-control. The story would be enough in itself, but I loved the additional narration Moss adds. This critical voice undermines the conclusions of the first narrator, critiquing her memories, her recall, her right to feel betrayed and hurt by her parents. She doesn't shy away from the toughest bits, and throughout imagines what she - or a familiar in the shape of a wolf - would say to the scared little girl she was.

How I read it: predominantly on the tube, blocking out the hum of the train

Five. Jollof rice and other revolutions by Omolola Ijeoma Ogunyemi

This slim novel reads more like a series of short stories. It begins with a tragedy - a young girl in Nigeria is arrested following a riot at her school, which she didn't take part in. She dies in police custody. Her friends, who were part of the riot, feel incredible guilt. The stories afterwards follow one of the friends, or one of their extended family. Sometimes so extended that it was hard to figure out how they were even related. As a collection of short stories reflecting on the Nigerian diaspora I found them interesting, but it didn't really hang together as a whole piece. It also finishes on a bizarre futuristic dystopian note which for me totally jarred with the very naturalistic tone of the rest of the book.

How I read it: another tube read

Six. Vacant possession by Hilary Mantel

It was only on reminding myself of the names of the characters that I discovered this early novel by Mantel is actually a sequel, which perhaps explains the slight sense of discombobulation I had on reading. Although on the other hand, it is a pretty twisted tale so it's likely I would have felt the same way even if I knew the background. Although I forgot the names of the characters, their essence is incredibly well drawn, you feel you know everyone in the cast, or can point to someone they remind you of. It also felt incredibly English in tone, and the black humour was some of the darkest I've read.

How I read it: yet another tube one!

Seven. The Border by Erika Fatland

Erika Fatland has had a lifelong fascination with Russia, in this huge travelogue she sets herself the challenge of travelling around all the countries (and seas) that border Russia, in an attempt to learn more about the country from its neighbours. Some of her journey overlaps with her previous book - Sovietistan - and she reflects on how things, or her perception of things, have changed since her earlier visit. Although the book was published in 2017, with her travels predominantly taking pace in 2015, in this current moment it feels timely and important to be trying to understand Russia and the history of this huge nation. I also love history told through personal stories, and this book is stacked with them.

How I read it: at home, chunk by chunk

Book of the month: for me it has to be Sarah Moss' memoir My good bright wolf, which was moving, surprising, and written in such a startling different way to the average memoir.

That's it for this month! I hope you found something to interest you. Let me know what you've been reading too!

The Monthly Line: April 2025

A bank holiday reading list

Hello all,

I hope you're having a lovely bank holiday, and the sun is shining wherever you are.

This month has a whole host of reading delights, which made it pretty hard to pick my book of the month. We've got internet revelations, murder mysteries, and apples. Let's dive in!

One. North Woods by Daniel Mason

I love a novel that explores different genres, so this mix of literary fiction, horror, song, and more was always going to be catnip to me. I also really like apples, and this story centres around a plot of land where the apple is king. It starts with an injured soldier from the American civil war, who moves with his daughters to the place where he has tasted the most delicious apple he could find. It then skips through time, following his daughters, and then the others who live on the plot, but there is always the spectre of the first people who lived there hanging behind. I found it mystical, earthy, and creepy.

How I read it: on holiday on the Isle of Man

Two. Conspiracyland by Marianna Spring

Spring is the BBC's disinformation correspondent, and spends most of her working life trying to track how different people experience social media. In this book she does a deep dive on conspiracy theories, and the people who believe them, often to the extent of being cut off from their family and friends. She wrote it during the pandemic so Covid-related theories feature quite heavily, but she also speaks to people who think that the Manchester Arena bombing was faked, as well as speaking to some of the victims. The reading experience was a bit choppy - I could tell it was her first book and she usually writes more short form pieces. But nevertheless the investigation is fascinating and alarming in equal measure. It's also just sad to read about all these people living in fantasy worlds entirely on the internet. One of the most sobering strands is how difficult it is to get people out of that world once they've landed in it.

How I read it: a mix of holiday and commuting

Three. The last murder at the end of the world by Stuart Turton

This was such a fun read. Stuart Turton loves to write twisty-turny crime plots set in absurd places. This one is on an island surrounded by a deadly fog, held back by fancy tech, which fails the day the matriarch of the island is found dead. High stakes! I found the plot really engaging, with loads going on and a slow reveal of the key details that lead you to the final dénouement. It's very fast paced, and I enjoyed the central character of Emory who is our sleuth.

How I read it: very quickly on a train up north

Four. Intermezzo by Sally Rooney

It's almost pointless to say what you thought about a Sally Rooney novel because her books are marketed in such an over the top way that you feel everyone must have already read it. Nevertheless, I'm sure some of you are behind the times like me. In this one, she narrates the lives of two brothers, who often misunderstand each other, and whose father has just died. They have their own private cares and joys, centring primarily around romantic relationships, which is what it feels Rooney is mostly interested in. I connected with the characters, and enjoyed the way she made their internal voices so different - I would find myself siding with one brother, only to flip flop to the other when their view was presented. I also like the occasional diversions into intellectual debate, even if I can't quite follow them sometimes.

How I read it: it kept me company before bed for a few nights

Five. Careless People by Sarah Wynn-Williams

What a wild ride! This memoir is by a former (very much former) employee of Facebook, who joined the tech company in the fairly early days, when global domination was coming, but not quite there. She worked directly with Mark Zuckerberg and Sheryl Sandberg, and if even half of what she narrates about their attitudes and working practices is true, then it does leave me fearing for the future. It also has one of the wildest couple of opening chapters I've ever read, which span negotiating with the junta in Myanmar and almost dying from a shark attack. She has been banned from promoting it by Facebook, so of course it's now a bestseller. It was a good companion read to Conspiracyland too!

How I read it: with my mouth agape

Book of the month: actually a really tough one, this was a great and varied reading month, but the one I am recommending most at the moment is Careless People.

That's all for this month, see you in a few weeks. And as ever, do let me know what you're reading!

The Monthly Line: March 2025

Knights and saints

Hello dear readers,

I hope you're having a lovely Easter weekend - happy Easter to all who celebrate. I'm away (kid-free!) for the weekend which might mean April's reading list is a bit longer than March!

But before I get too ahead of myself, here's the lowdown on March, including romance, Arthurian knights, and resisting tyranny.

One. Happy Place by Emily Henry

I found this romance novel much more emotional than Emily Henry's previous books (which I also enjoyed). Don't get me wrong, it still has plenty of wish fulfilment - gorgeous house you can stay in for free thanks to rich friends, heroine is a brain surgeon etc. But the overall tone was much more mature and wistful, with the characters grappling with how you build a life and maintain old relationships when you're out of that early adulthood bubble of no strings, no dependents, free-wheeling existence. I found it took a little too long to get to the point, there was a lot of repetition of allusions to 'something bad' that the main character had done before the actual circumstances were revealed. But overall I really enjoyed it.

How I read it: at home, chilling one evening

Two. Cleopatra and Frankenstein by Coco Mellors

We're in New York in the noughties, meeting Frank - a 40ish owner of an advertising company - and Cleo, a very young woman trying to make it as an artist. They meet leaving a party and very quickly get married. I'm afraid this buzzy novel really hit a few of my negative association buttons: characters who can't care for themselves or others, being rich as a personality, and lots and lots of bad decisions. The most interesting characters for me were either very peripheral or introduced quite near the end. Overall it was pacy, and the plot was propulsive, but it just didn't work for me.

How I read it: during a long wait for a gestational diabetes test (I got the all clear)

Three. On Tyranny by Timothy Snyder

This short non-fiction book of essays takes on a different aspect of tyrannical government for each essay, exploring how they can be fought against by everyday people. It was written as a response to the election of Donald Trump first time round, so in that sense it hasn't lost any of its relevance. It was very clear, and made me think about democracy and tyranny, and the tricks used by leaders to bring people along with them, even against their self-interest. Obviously given its origin story, it is quite American in focus, but I think that can be forgiven as it's so short and streamlined.

How I read it: on the tube in chunks

Four. Perilous Times by Thomas D Lee

I wasn't quite sure what to expect when I picked up this fantasy novel that imagines that the Knights of the Roundtable can be resurrected, whenever the nation needs it. But Mr Caroline had read and enjoyed it so I decided to give it a go! And I was pleasantly surprised. It imagines a United Kingdom that is experiencing extreme climate breakdown, with major cities flooded, refugee camps full of simmering tensions, and the magic of the land simmering underneath but much depleted. It explores deep themes like leadership, the power of community, identity, over a backdrop of dragons and knights and epic myths. Definitely one to pick up if you're a fan of fantasy with a sense of humour and heart.

How I read it: my bedtime book for a while as it's quite a beast

Five. Saints by Amy Jeffs

Jeffs has a few books now along the theme of the forgotten stories and myths of Great Britain. I really enjoyed Storyland, her first book, which recounted some of those myths alongside her gorgeous woodcut illustrations. This book repeats the idea, but with the stories of saints, many British but not all. It's split into the months of the year, with each saint appearing at the appropriate month for their saints day, or because it relates to their story. The stories themselves are fascinating, though she doesn't tell them straight, instead often looking at them from another angle, or re-imagining them slightly. I didn't mind this, but I did find it made the editorial voice a bit loud, I felt like I learned more about her feelings on the saints than on how they contributed to the rich tapestry of British religious culture.

How I read it: a few saints every evening

Book of the month: I think it's going to be Perilous Times for how much I enjoyed the twists and turns of the plot.

That's it for March, I hope you enjoyed reading about last month's reads. See you next month for April's round up!

The Monthly Line: February 2025

Back to darkness

Hello dear readers,

Spring has finally sprung! But I am taking you back to the dark and cold days of February, and what I read to bring a little light into the darkness.

We've got Japanese food, sparkling short stories, and a dystopian reimagining. Let's dive in!

One. Butter by Asako Yuzuki translated by Polly Barton

This Japanese novel has been everywhere lately, I kept seeing people reading it on the tube, so I didn't mind when it was a book club pick, even though at almost 500 pages, it's pretty hefty! It follows a female Japanese journalist investigating the crimes of an alleged female serial killer. But according to the reporting, the greatest crime the woman seems to have committed was being fat, while still being attractive to men. The book explores a version of Japanese society that is deeply fatphobic, leading the journalist to reassess her own relationship with food. There's a lot of descriptions of food in the novel, which I would normally enjoy as I love food and good food writing, but I found the majority of it quite tedious, and a real slog to finish. But on the other hand I have been craving udon noodles a lot since finishing it so it obviously had a slight affect on me!

How I read it: mostly commuting and then also at a spa!

Two. False colours by Georgette Heyer

Another Heyer down! I confess when I came to write this newsletter, I had completely forgotten the entire plot and had to google it. So not a super memorable one! But now I have refreshed my memory, it was a lot of fun. The plot is absolutely absurd - it revolves around two brothers, one of whom has gone missing just at the point when he was about to make an advantageous marriage, so the remaining brother is persuaded to impersonate him. Chaos ensues! And love and hijinks obviously.

How I read it: also on my spa weekend while feeling deeply relaxed

Three. Survivors by Rebecca Clifford

What if you experienced something terrible as an infant, before you could form long term memories, would it still affect you? These days we would say absolutely yes, in fact the first two years of your life are absolutely foundational for your identity. But in 1945 after world war two, the picture wasn't as clear. This non-fiction book follows the life stories of infant and child survivors of the Holocaust, and the approaches that different countries, organisations, and families took to looking after them. It's heartbreaking - how could it not be - but also incredibly interesting. Some of the more academic bits went over my head slightly but I still found it very enriching.

How I read it: mostly on the tube, and a little on my lunch break

Four. Midsummer night in the workhouse by Diana Athill

This sparkling collection of short stories was such fun to read. They're mostly about relationships and love - sometimes with people who have given up and sometimes with those who are just beginning. It felt very alive and present and I really rolled through it. I'm aiming to pick up one of her memoirs soon.

How I read it: my commuting book, short stories are ideal for that

Five. Julia by Sandra Newman

I got this reimagining of 1984 from a woman's perspective for Christmas, not because I'm particularly interested in 1984 (I think I last read it when I was about 16?), but because it was written by Sandra Newman who I am catching up on (I read The Men by her last month). I think my appreciation of this book would have been heightened by having read 1984 recently, but nevertheless I did find some things to like about it. From what I remember, the woman's experience of the world of Big Brother is not really explored at all in the original, so it was interesting to read along with the thought experiment of how women would be treated. Being preyed upon by men in power, and the worry (and reality) of getting pregnant are unsurprisingly very high on the agenda. For me, the story started to fall apart a bit halfway through and then became fairly baggy, but it was still worth reading as an expansion of the original.

How I read it: my bedtime book (not an ideal one if I'm honest)

Book of the month: I think it has to be Midsummer night in the workhouse, just for how much I enjoyed being swept along by each little nugget.

That's it for this month, see you shortly with March's reads! As always, drop me a line and tell me what you're reading, I'd love to hear.

The Monthly Line: January 2025

It's a whopper

Hello everyone,

I'm sneaking in for the last Sunday of February with my books from January.

I somehow managed to read 12 books in January, which is quite a lot higher than my usual average! I think a combination of the Christmas holidays, and always getting a seat on the tube thanks to my baby on board badge, explains the uptick. An argument for pregnancy if I ever heard one.

This month we've got war-themed non-fiction and a few dystopian novels. Let's dive in.

One. The Book at War by Andrew Pettegree

I got this big non-fiction book for Christmas after spotting it in a bookshop and thinking it might work for me. It's about the role of books - or really of the written word - during European wars. It ostensibly covers a large time period but in reality it spends a lot of time on WW1 and WW2. I enjoyed it for the most part, but I did find the focus on the world wars a little limiting, it would have been interesting to hear more about other conflicts. He also speaks about how different countries have approached the literacy of their fighting troops, which again I could have heard more about.

How I read it: mostly in that funny bit between Christmas and New Year, feeling uncomfortably full

Two. Buried Deep by Naomi Novik

Another Christmas treat, this collection of short stories by my favourite fantasy author went straight onto my list. It has side stories from a bunch of her novels, and I particularly enjoyed the one set in the Scholomance (unsurprisingly). Novik trained herself through writing fan-fiction so it was fun to see her explore that here, by re-imagining Pride and Prejudice in a world full of dragons. There's also a sneak peak of her next novel, which did feel very different in style, I'm excited to read more.

How I read it: probably too quickly, but I'm looking forward to dipping in and out in future

Three. Potty training magic by Amanda Jenner

Not one I would recommend to everyone, given it is an extremely specific guide to potty-training your toddler. Nevertheless, if you're in the market for that then it is clear and helpful, and it seems to have worked! It's very easy to read - you can skim it really.

How I read it: speed-reading one evening to get ready

Four. Rule Britannia by Daphne du Maurier

This is a funny addition to the du Maurier canon, as it's not historical fiction but instead dystopian fiction. It imagines what would happen if the UK became a colony of the USA, and a small group in Cornwall decided to fight back. At the centre is a young woman living with her grandmother and her grandmother's adopted children, a slightly feral pack of boys ranging from 3 to 21. It's odd, but very engaging, and has the sense of foreboding that du Maurier is so good at hinting at throughout a text.

How I read it: a slim paperback so perfect for commuting

Five. The Agency for Scandal by Laura Wood

Avid followers will have noticed I've been ticking off quite a few novels by Laura Wood, who writes incredibly cosy young adult books. This one has a slightly darker heart, as it follows a young woman who has been recruited to be a spy/private detective by an agency that predominantly helps women. It's also a romance, and has a lot of fun exploring the tropes of typical romance novels with a crime setting over the top. The perfect winter evening read.

How I read it: at home on the sofa in a quiet evening

Six. Held by Anne Michaels

I picked this up because it was on the Booker prize shortlist last year, and I did enjoy the experimental style which relies on you picking up on a lot of clues to determine where you are in the timeline and who you are following. It starts with a young man about to go to the trenches in world war one, but it blossoms out from there to encompass a lot more. I enjoyed the experience of reading it, but I find I haven't thought of it since, so it didn't make a deep impression.

How I read it: on the tube to work, not always conducive to concentrating

Seven. Sovietistan by Erika Fatland

I've had this travelogue on my to-read list for ages, and finally picked it up because I felt in the mood to explore. It follows Fatland, a Norwegian author, as she travels through the central Asian states that were part of the Soviet Union - Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan. I knew nothing about those nations before, and it was truly fascinating to get a snapshot of their history and culture. They are nations with an extremely long past, but she mainly focusses on how they were affected by the Soviet Union and how they have fared since (which for four out of the five is a question of just how bad their dictator has been). She covers so much ground (both literally and historically) that she could never tell you everything but what she does tell you is startling, maddening, and astonishing in equal measure. We have two more of her books at home so I shall be reading them at some point soon.

How I read it: a conveniently long train journey

Eight. Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar

This was a book club pick which I was sceptical about to begin with but I ended feeling like it had a lot going for it. It follows an Iranian-American man in his twenties, a former alcoholic, who is struggling to find his purpose, though he knows he wants to be a poet. I did find him a bit grating initially but as the plot picked up speed he grew on me. His mother died in a plane crash when he was a baby, which understandably had a profound affect on him, and lots of the novel explores the nature of dying, and whether dying for a cause is more noble. It lots its way a bit towards the end, but I liked how it took religion seriously, and the poetic style (the author is also a poet) was beautiful to read in places.

How I read it: commuting with my kindle

Nine. Sweetness in the skin by Ishi Robinson

I can't quite decide how I feel about this one. It had both a fairytale unreality to it, while also holding a darkness that didn't seem to match together. It follows Pumkin, a teenager in Jamaica, whose mother has always been absent, or violent when there, and so she has been mostly brought up by her grandma and aunt Sophie. I loved all the interpersonal dynamics, and how it never landed on one person being bad while another was good. It also explored really powerfully what happens when a young person loses their safety net in one fell swoop and there's no on there to catch them. If you like a lot of plot too, then a whole lot happens so it keeps you reading.

How I read it: my bedtime book, which wasn't ideal actually as the temptation to read another chapter was always very strong

Ten. Hitler, Stalin, Mum & Dad by Daniel Finkelstein

I heard Lord Finkelstein speak to a Holocaust Memorial Day event and picked up his book as a result. His mother was a Holocaust survivor, while his father survived deportation by the Soviets to a barren part of Siberia, alongside his mother. One of the quotes that stayed with me from the event was Finkelstein saying that all stories of survivors of the Holocaust are extraordinary, because if nothing extraordinary happened, you didn't survive, and that certainly rings true with this biography. It's astonishing what they endured and how they survived. It's also very thoroughly researched, while retaining a humanity that I found moving.

How I read it: at home during toddler naps, and my own bedtime

Eleven. The Men by Sandra Newman

Imagine a world where one morning you wake up and all the men have disappeared. Into thin air. And no one knows where or how. What world would rise from the ashes? Newman is an author who likes to explore big questions, and this novel is no exception. It covers climate change, gender-based violence, socialism, power, the mutability of truth... you name it, you can probably find it in there. Despite what sounds like a heavy list, it is short and incredibly engaging. The ending didn't quite work for me, but I imagine it's hard to land a plane which has so many wings.

How I read it: another commuting book

Twelve. When Hitler stole pink rabbit by Judith Kerr

Another one I picked up off the back of Holocaust Memorial Day, as they had a special display at the library. It is a slightly fictionalised account of Kerr and her family's own flight from Germany, first to Switzerland, then to France, and finally, at the end of the book, to England. Despite being written when she was in her fifties she manages to retain the perfect childlike voice as we follow 'Anna' through the family's various moves and challenges. It is written for children, so it never strays too far into giving you the bigger picture, but stays tightly on what she understood at the time. Reading it as an adult, this gives it an extra emotional heft as you can read between the lines and understand what is going on.

How I read it: this was my bedtime book for a few nights

Book of the month: for its clarity and humanity I think it's got to be Hitler, Stalin, Mum and Dad.

Phew, that was a lot of books! Thanks for reading this far, do let me know if you've enjoyed any of these and drop me a line with your recommendations too.