Review

Review of 'An Ungodly Child' at the
Bluechrome Blog

Available at Amazon.co.uk (will be back in stock this week, I'm told) or at Amazon.com, or order from your local bookshop or library.

Book Review

Wooden Womb Man – Elizabeth O’Neill

Amazon Synopsis

The Legg family are a nightmare, and it is only that good if you are part of it. Domestic violence, heavy drinking, junk food and cigarettes are the staples of everyday life and an unholy interest in eggs only adds a surreal twist to the misery Gregg Legg has to put up with. He has always been bullied and the bullying seems as though it will continue throughout his life, being only marginally better since he decided to marry Peggy Legg, who doesn’t let anyone bully her husband except herself. But now there is their son to think about and Gregg doesn’t want history to repeat itself. “Wooden Womb Man” is a surreal, darkly hilarious and often terrifying novel, which digs into the heart of an ASBO community and finds it to be as healthy as the ash from a packet of Kensitas Club. Set in Irvine, Elizabeth O’Neill writes in dialect and describes the horror of domestic abuse and its effects from a new and refreshing perspective, the darkness of the story leavened with some of the worst puns ever set in print.

My Thoughts

I read this novel on the plane to Ireland and struggled with it not because of the Scots dialect it is written in (which actually trips easily off the mind’s tongue after a few pages), nor with the subject matter which is bother horrifying and darkly humourous. The naming of characters in a running inside joke annoyed me greatly – I was constantly thrown out of the story by yet another intentional – and contrived – rhyme. Not a single character aroused my sympathies except perhaps the boy, but there is no focus on his development.

The end is as tragic as any I have read, though Peg’s journey is the most tragic of all, since it seems she learned nothing from it.

Although not to my taste I would recommend this book as a snapshot of life in the first decade of the twentieth century, much as I view Bill Naughton’s novels from the viewpoint of growing up in the sixties.

Many thanks to Anthony at Bluechrome for sending me a review copy.

Buy it Here

Fence, Sky, Books, Wants

Fence

A traditional council iron fence. You just don't seem to see these anymore.
Painted in traditional council green with just the beginnings of rust showing through.

Give me one of these instead of a chain-link fence anyday.

Don't you just love winter skies?
The majesty of the sun lighting heavy rain clouds.

Even better when they're taken in July and it's warm enough to take them with just your tee-shirt on.

Boythorpe cemetery of course.
There aren't that many places I can take three dogs at once when one of them only has six-inch-long legs.

I love surprises.

I shouldn't have asked for a copy of this because I have so many other books on my 'to read' pile but Anthony at Bluechrome Publishing sent it to me anyway.

It's a proof copy of "A Portrait of the Arsonist as a Young Man" by Andrew McGuinness and I must saw I'm really rather looking forward to reading it.

The back copy does look rather enticing.

Gods! I'm such a book whore!

Last night I coveted these three books but I really can't afford them. I'd be so tempted to write a murder story set in Laverstone if I had them. I haven't dodne one of those since Screaming Yellow in 2006.

Books and... bagels?

Ah! That solves it. I answered a post on the Bluechrome Books blog which was offering a free book to any blogger that was offering to read and review it. I put my name down. This, remember, was at the end of April. Imagine my surprise this morning when a parcel arrives with FOURTEEN books in it -- all fresh off the press. One of them I already have - Your Messages, the result of a highly inventive online collaboration which ran during November 2007, where contributors were given a single day to write a response in exactly 300 words to a message of exactly 300 words created by Lynne Rees and Sarah Salway. I loved this book, though I would say that because its packed full of stories by people I know both in blogland and in real life and, of course, one by me.


Freshly mown fields. There's nothing quite like them. True, this is a piece of council recreation ground rather than a real field cultivated and mown for hay - Ah! what memories of childhood antics that evokes -- but still, pleasant enough.

Is it a sign that I'm an adult, I wonder, that although i want to lie on the grass and look up at the sky, I don't because (a) my clothes would get covered with bits of grass and it's me that does the washing and (b) I have too much to do at home - two stories and a novel to get on with, for a start!

Rust.

A year ago these were two brightly polished Chinese massage balls - the kind that tinkle when you manipulate them with your fingers. They had a couple of spots of rust on them and K was throwing them out. I took them for the garden instead. The gravel they stand on used to be cobalt blue but had faded over time.

I think they look stunning now. I'm very partial to the absolute beauty of rust. If I had a large enough bank account, I'd commission sculptures in raw steel.




And K made lunch so I didn't have a bagel after all.