Lacey's House - Joanne Graham

'I wanted to walk right out of my life and leave it behind.'

Sometimes one way I can see how much I loved a book is by how many sentences or paragraphs I tab with little sticky notes to come back to and think about again once I've finished. There were a lot of places I marked in this book. There were parts of the prose that resonated with me, that moved me, and parts where the use of language particularly appealed to me. In summary, I thought this was a very special book. 

Rachel Moore has suffered a sad loss and moves from Birmingham to the countryside, to get away and start afresh. She is a solitary soul, having grown up in care, though having a brief period with some loving foster parents. She meets Lacey Carmichael, the older lady living next door. Lacey is another isolated soul, teased by the local children, labeled as the mad woman down the road, she is misunderstood and lonely. Then she is accused of a terrible crime.

A connection forms between them, and they begin to trust each other, and to share painful things with each other that they have never told anyone else. They've both experienced such sadness and from sharing their secrets a friendship blossoms despite the difference in their ages. The development of this friendship between Rachel and Lacey over the course of the book is wonderful and fascinating to observe. As time passes, Rachel thinks about how she feels about Lacey: 'I found that I cared for her very deeply, that her vulnerability had somehow pulled me closer and I carried her words, her story, like a heavy cloak about my shoulders.' Rachel attempts to express the pain and sorrow in Lacey's past through her artwork. 

'Her memories came home with me. Walking straight into my studio, I mixed them with acrylics; different shades of blue and deep, swirling turquoise that I threw at the huge canvas as I painted her sorrow, a raging, tumultuous thing that, when I was finished, left me breathless and empty.'

The chapters alternate between the two of them, Rachel's in the first person and Lacey's in the third, and the story progressed and worked really well written in this way.

Rachel likes and trusts Lacey, but doesn't yet know the whole truth; she, and the reader, are kept in suspense. Rachel fears that in the future she too might experience the depths of isolation that Lacey has;

'In fifty years time would it be me standing where Lacey was, with the past eating into me from the inside? I recoiled from the idea of experiencing for myself the stark loneliness that had been so apparent in Lacey's eyes.'

Joanne Graham writes with immense insight, empathy, warmth and poignancy about these women's lives and pasts, and writes sensitively and honestly about themes of mental health, loneliness and loss of a child, about damaging things that happen in people's lives which they are scarred by and understandably spend much time and energy grappling with. I felt emotional as I read, I was angry at the cruelty in Lacey's past, at what people could get away with. So much of a person's past can be hidden away, unknown, unvoiced. I empathised with and liked both Rachel and Lacey, and they both felt very real to me as I was reading. As Lacey thinks to herself, 'How sad for them both that they had to grow up without loving families.' As well as creating engaging, rounded characters, the author tells a powerful story. 

For me, Lacey's House is a wonderful, incredibly moving and very special story of female friendship across generations. It has stayed in my mind since reading it and it made me think. Beautifully, sensitively written, perceptive and touching, I think it was a very worthy recipient of the Luke Bitmead Bursary, a superb debut novel and I'd say it's one of my reading highlights of the year so far.


Thank you to the publisher for kindly sending me a copy of this novel for an honest review. 

Author links - twitter @YarrowH | website

Published by Legend Press

The People in the Photo - Hélène Gestern

'Sometimes I wonder what 'truth' it is we're chasing after exactly, and what kind of state it will leave us in if we find it.'

Hélène Hivert is an archivist in Paris. She places a newspaper advertisement with a photograph, asking for information about the people in it. One of them is her mother, Nathalie, and then there are two men in the photography with her. It was taken in 1971 at a tennis tournament in Interlaken. Hélène's mother died when she was only three years old. She receives a response from Stéphane, informing her that his father Pierre was one of the two men in the photograph. Stéphane is Swiss, a biologist currently living in Kent, England. 

After his initial response, further correspondence is undertaken between the two, and they reveal memories and gaps in their pasts to each other, increasingly able to confide in each other. They uncover more about their pasts and those of their parents. But it remains to be seen whether the things they discover will help or hurt them, bring them relief and understanding or pain and sadness; either way, the revelations will affect and change their lives:

'...I'm aware that digging up the past is risky. Who knows what secrets they were trying to protect us from and at what cost?'

Hélène's father disclosed little about her mother, and she was raised by a loving stepmother too. After her father's death she found the photograph of her mother with the two men, and decided to now try and find out more about Nathalie. Some of the pair's relatives have passed away, so they must look harder sometimes if they are to continue the search for the truth that has been hidden in history.

I loved this book. Once I started reading, I was captivated by the story, I cared about the characters and I didn't want to stop reading until I'd finished it. The narrative is told predominantly through the exchanges between Hélène and Stéphane via the content of their letters, emails and text messages. It was incredibly moving to be an observer of their exchanges, reading how their connection to each other developed and evolved as they corresponded, and to notice the similarities in some of the feelings and emotions they had experienced in their lives:

'I too feel that inner emptiness, which you describe so poignantly. And, as I grow older, I find it increasingly hard to bear.'

There is a very understandable need to find answers, to discover their real background, so that they might feel a truer sense of themselves too:

'You told me you found it difficult to come to terms with your background. As for me, I've been plagued by anxiety my whole life. My mind is filled with images I can't explain, scenes of catastrophe and things falling apart. I have rarely been able to shake this sense of anguish, even at what should have been the happiest times of my life.'

This aspect in particular really appealed to me; who doesn't wonder about those parts of their past and their family's past that they know little of, and if this relates to a parent, even more so. 

Another part to the narrative, interspered amongst the correspondence, are descriptions of further old photographs; these are uncovered as the story progresses, and each sheds light on another aspect of the past. Each is beautifully described by the author, so that without having them in front of us, it is almost as if we do, and we can picture them in our minds eye. 

The People in the Photo is a wonderful, emotional and very moving read, definitely a keeper for me, and a book I'd love to read again. I do like epistolary novels and this form works very well here, brought up to date by the use of email and text. There are themes of love and friendship, identity and memory, confronting and dealing with the past, and finding forgiveness. There's always a sense of intrigue and wonder when we look at old photographs of people and this novel captures this and delivers a great story via this starting point. One of my favourite reads so far this year. Beautifully written and translated, I loved the structure and the way the story was told, so I'd certainly recommend this novel. I hope there will be more novels from this author.


I was kindly sent a review copy of this novel - this is my honest review.

Published by Gallic Books | twitter @gallicbooks
Translated from the French by Emily Boyce and Ros Schwartz

The Memory of Lost Senses - Judith Kinghorn

‘When the journey ended, this was all one was left with, memories.’

I absolutely adored Judith Kinghorn’s debut novel The Last Summer – (read my review here) – it was one of my favourite books of 2012, I felt very emotionally involved in that wonderful story of Clarissa and Tom, and I still clearly remember the weekend I sat reading it, and the bereft feeling on finishing it. I was therefore eagerly anticipating the arrival of this second book, and I was also a little nervous; will I enjoy this one as much, will the story grab hold of me, will the writing be as good? I am pleased to say that the answers were yes, yes and yes.

This is a beautifully written novel that took me back in time again to early in the twentieth century, to places and a period which are vividly evoked and introduced me to fascinating characters whose lives I was enthralled by.

A mysterious elderly lady, a countess in fact, arrives to take up residence in a quiet Hampshire village, and everyone is curious as to her identity and her past. Cecily Chadwick is one such curious neighbour of the countess, eager to find out more about the life of this enigmatic lady who has lived abroad for so many years. Cecily is attracted by this life and keen to hear about Cora’s experiences. However Cora is troubled by threats she has received, and by her memories. Her close and dear friend Sylvia, a novelist, joins her in Hampshire and endeavours to compile a more detailed account of Cora’s past to become her memoirs. The challenge of this process of thinking back over things is acknowledged; 'Sometimes it's not easy to revisit the past. It involves confronting everything we've done and said, all our actions, mistakes, and regrets.'

This is a novel about love, intrigue, memory, mystery and truth. It asks, can we rely on our memories? Place is very important in this story; both Hampshire and also Rome, the expatriate life there, and places within the story are intensely realised, as is the way in which places can offer 'a kind of freedom, and the chance to be whoever one wished to be,' as Cora speaks about Rome. Indeed she entrances Cecily with her strong recollections of her life in Rome: 

'And behind every doorway, no matter how humble, were masterpieces, friezes depicting ancient stories, magnificent frescoes, statues, intricate mosaics and richly marbled floors. Every window and balcony overlooked the antiquities, like one's own museum, one's very own art gallery. It felt to me like the centre of the world. And of course it had been, once. Everywhere one looked were relics, history and art, stupendous art. How could one fail to be inspired in such a place? All of it shaped me, who I am, and like those I have loved, it remains here,' she said, placing her palm flat upon her chest. 'It lives within me...that place.' And how could it not? Cecily thought.'

From the start, the clever structure hints at mysteries. There are secrets hidden in Cora’s past which her grandson Jack, staying with her now, wishes to uncover, to know more about his family’s past. The emotions stirred by the past, and the nature of memories, run throughout the novel. The author illustrates through Cora a keen understanding of the acute pain of joy and sadness deep within our pasts, and how, when we think about the events and feelings in our pasts, it can be overwhelming:

'Numbness had come with old age, but to her bones, not to her heart. And though in public she was careful to keep her emotions in check, to maintain - or try to maintain - a ready smile, a relaxed countenance, in quiet, solitary moments, moments of reflection, and often when least expecting it, she was sometimes plunged under, submerged, left gasping for breath; drowning in a great swell of sorrow and joy and pain and rapture. And it was this, the memory of senses and sensations, that made her weep.'

The quandary with me when reading this book, one that I think other readers will identify with when it comes to a new book by a favourite writer, was that part of me wanted to read it as quickly as I could, to devour it greedily because I couldn’t wait, and part of me wanted to take my time in reading, to savour it; having waited with excitement to read it, I didn’t want to rush it. The prose has a lyrical quality; there were many passages I savoured as I read.

Judith Kinghorn is now very high up on my list of authors that I know I can trust to skillfully create another world on the page for me to venture to and become ensconced in, always with a compelling, beautifully written tale to tell, a gorgeous use of language, with characters I love and relationships that are certain to intrigue me. Definitely recommended; settle yourself in a comfy chair and be captivated by this lovely period story. As with The Last Summer, this is certainly a book that I will keep on my shelves and return to one day.

Published by Headline

Thanks very much to the publisher for kindly sending me a copy of this novel to read and give an honest review.

You can follow the author on twitter @JudithKinghorn and visit her website here.

The White Goddess: An Encounter - Simon Gough

‘What was I frightened of? Of memories. Of the past – Of going back.’

The precise nature of this book is best summed up using the author’s own words in his introductory note: ‘This is a fragment of autobiography written in narrative form in order to breathe new life into a remarkable story which occurred over fifty years ago.’ So we have a combination of autobiographical events and real people yet with an element of fictional writing.

The very first sentence is incredibly striking. We are introduced to the spark behind the book being written. Then we are taken back to 1953, when Simon Gough went to Majorca in 1953 as a ten-year-old boy embarking on an adventure. There, in Deya, a place which is evoked so well here, he will encounter his ‘Grand-Uncle’ Robert, who we know as the author and poet Robert Graves. A picture builds of his reaction to and relationship with him, and with other compelling characters he spends his days with. He returns in 1960 and finds the place changed, liking it even more. In later years we learn of his falling in love with Margot Callas, Robert’s muse. This is a long book, one that I took my time in reading, but it is certainly one that keeps you interested.

The prose is absolutely beautiful, and there were so many times I paused to re-read a certain passage, to mark it in order that I could return to it. Here is one such passage:

‘Memory – so innocent and naïve in itself, so potentially fatal when stirred, like the coiled snake that it was in its pluperfect lair. The past was not to be trifled with; while the present and future move d at their own irrevocable speeds, the past was time spent, time-without-energy, which could be moulded or stretched into infinite versions of remembered truth.’

I feel there is so much self-awareness and insight into how our lives are lived through the way the author looks back on his own life, reflecting on his younger days. There is a need to divulge his story, before it is too late. ‘I had a story to tell – a love story; a true love story. No one else would tell it now.’

The White Goddess: An Encounter is the first of two books from this author about his relationship with his great-uncle Robert Graves and the related events in his life.

Published by Galley Beggar Press

Reviewed by Lindsay Healy

This is the first book from new publishing company, Galley Beggar Press, based in Norfolk.

Find out more about the background to this new publishing company here.

Thank you very much to the publisher for kindly sending a copy of this novel to read and review.