The Sense of an Ending - Julian Barnes   7/10

This is the story of Tony Webster and his clique of three school friends who start out as arrogant intellectuals questioning the world, but then drift apart as they get older. In later life, the past catches up with Webster and this book is a philosophical reflection of his actions.

I’ve read one other book by Barnes, Arthur and George which struggles with its literary identity as it flicks between biography, romance, spirituality and detective novel, all of which make it feel a bit bloated as it swaggers between these different styles. The Sense of an Ending is the exact opposite of that; it is succinct and focuses on the themes of history and memory, divided into two parts.

The first part is a retrospective account of Webster’s school and university days, particularly his interaction with one influential friend, Adrian Finn and his first proper girlfriend, Veronica Ford.

Part two deals primarily with the modern day and adds a further layer of mystery to the story, leading to a climax that feels more like a thriller than the more whimsical opening pages. Yet, perhaps that is the intention?

This book asks a lot of questions about how we perceive time and how our memories affect our actions and conscience. It is short, but the cyclical nature of the story makes it satisfying and I thought it was superbly well written. The recurring themes can get a bit repetitive but they are strong and leave the reader questioning their own perceptions. Would you remember a letter written 40 years ago word for word? No, but you might recall the sentiment of that letter, and that could well be different to how the recipient saw it.

Webster’s character almost prides himself on his middle class dullness, in contrast to those around him who are brilliant and mercurial. The person we display to others is always the most interesting parts of ourselves as we look to impress and seek approval. Webster finds himself dull, is comfortable with that, but I do not think Veronica sees him in this way, even when they are young and she uses her intellect in a way that he finds domineering.

I enjoyed this book and can see why it won the Booker Prize. It is short, but intelligent enough, without being a bore. In fact, I essentially read it in one sitting and was impressed with the ending.

Old Filth – Jane Gardam – 9/10

This is the story of Old Filth (Sir Edward Feathers), a venerated international lawyer and judge and his eventful life from Raj Orphan to retirement and old age.

The book is superbly well written. Gardam creates characters and situations that swoop in and out of vibrant settings with an ease and confidence that allows several hours to have passed before you realise what has happened. The pacing and timing of the prose is excellent and it allows the reader to discover details and piece the narrative together in a subtle way.

Old Filth is all at once an unloved youth, an unsuccessful husband, a legend of the Hong Kong bar and an unhappy old man. Through his eyes we learn of the major events of his life, which mainly stem from his childhood and hint at a disturbing secret which has shaped his life.

The setting is key. The bulk of the story is set in the 1930s-40s or the modern day. He is either a youth under 20 or an old man over 80. The vast majority of his life is merely mentioned in passing, the time where he achieved everything, the time that most people would arguably think of as life, is glossed over. It is an interesting concept, when we are near the end of our lives, which part will we look back upon as making us who we are?

When an author jumps around in time they run the risk of making some parts more interesting than others, the modern day often suffers, but with old Filth Gardam has successfully negotiated this pitfall with a mixture of reality and humour. Her characters are almost uniquely believable, the dialogue is fitting and the gritty scenes have enough dirt and sadness to make them real.

This book is actually one of a trilogy with The Man in the Wooden Hat and Last Friends documenting the lives of Old Filth’s wife Betty and contemporary enemy Vaneering, respectively. Together the books are a tour de force and make for a spectacularly vivid treatise on class, family and society in the last days of the Empire.

The Hundred Year Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared - Jonas Jonasson 5/10


Allan Karlsson is centenarian who decides he is bored with his nursing home life, and absconds just before a party to celebrate his 100th birthday. What follows is a crime-thriller farce, interspersed with extracts from Allan’s life where it transpires he was something of a Forrest Gump-style character, meeting and influencing a number of political leaders across the world.

This book is likeable and charming and I think if it hadn’t struck me as so obviously being a Scandinavian Forrest Gump then I would have enjoyed it more. The translation is pretty good, which is something I’ve felt has suffered in other Scandinavian novels recently (The Steg Larrson Millennium books as an example) and even though most of the characters have the exact same pragmatic approach to life, I still found it a bit of fun.

It’s not a great book though, and the sections set in the modern day tend to drag. Thankfully, the chapters that recount Allan’s life and his unbelievable encounters and influence over famous people and events of the 20th Century grow longer as the book progresses.

The novel is primarily a comedy, but even though the historical events are only lightly touched upon, they are well researched. There is a hint of a theme that runs through the book, warning the reader not to take politics too seriously.

But that is it really. It is not a book of great substance, and does not inspire any great feeling or emotion. The writing style is very light-hearted and easy to get on with, but I didn’t find it laugh-out-loud funny. A nice book if you want a gentle read, without having to think too hard.

Wolf Hall - Hilary Mantel 9/10


Wolf Hall, the first part of a trilogy, documents the political rise of Thomas Cromwell from chief adviser for Cardinal Wolsey, to courtier and close confidante of Henry VIII. The bulk of the book is a focus on how he and the other historical figures attempt to deal with the ‘king’s great matter’ - being that of wanting to break from his wife Katherine of Aragon and to marry Anne Boleyn.

The most immediate thing to say about this book is that I can see why it won such accolades from reviewers, as well as the Man Booker Prize. The depth and complexity of the story is breathtaking, from the cast of dozens of historical figures, to the rich setting of Tudor England, to the speed and style in which it is written.

I heard Mantel on the radio say she had to set up a complex card index system for each historical character she uses to make sure she didn’t accidentally have someone be somewhere they weren’t in real life. This attention to detail is but one of the strengths of the book.

A key distinction from other historical novels is the apparent confidence in the modern reader to either do their own research into the time or to simply imagine what Mantel is mentioning. Some novelists go to great lengths to describe historical aspects that the modern reader might not be familiar with – tools or utensils that we no longer use for example. Mantel does not bother with this at all, and I found that extremely refreshing. It frees the prose up from unnecessary description and helps to maintain the pace of the story.

And it is rapid. I have read some complaint from online reviewers about the style Mantel adopts as being confusing and whilst it is true that it can take a little time to get used to, particularly during interactions between characters, it is worth persevering with as it lends an authoritative stamp on a familiar tale.

It is also an important part of the success of the novel. By focussing on dialogue, especially that of Cromwell and the lesser characters and steering away from large sections of description, Mantel is able to avoid those stereotypes that come hand in hand with an event that so many people are familiar with.

As for the story, she turns the conventional artistic portrayals of Cromwell as the villain in the tale of Henry VIII and his six wives on its head. Instead, she creates a very capable, very likable character who the reader wants to succeed, not least because he seems to be one of the most enlightened men in England at this time. This obviously fits well with his role of overthrowing the monasteries and organising the break from Rome, and Mantel builds this contempt of the monasteries into his character deftly, we see hints of it throughout.

For me, the dramatic irony didn’t ruin the story. I know most of these characters will end up dead before the tale is told over the three books, but that did not stop me enjoying this immensely. I’m excited to get my hands on the next instalment Bring up the Bodies which also won the Man Booker Prize as well as the Costa Prize, a very rare achievement to win both, and wholeheartedly recommend this book for lovers of history and literature alike.

The Gate – Francois Bizot                      9/10

The Gate details the experiences of Francois Bizot, a French ethnologist in Cambodia during the turbulent rise of the Khmer Rouge, as he recounts two episodes: a period of imprisonment in the jungle in 1971 and then as the official interpreter for foreigners in 1975 during the fall of Phnom Penh.

It is very difficult to find fault with this book. At first I thought it did not quite display the horror I was expecting; as Bizot writes with a description that sounds surprisingly human. Yet as the book progresses there is a creeping element of urgency, despair and fear which mirrors the events and is perhaps in parallel with the rise of the Khmer Rouge as a whole.

Bizot recounts two main events from his time in Cambodia, where he had lived for some years prior to the episodes described. The first section of the book deals with him being captured during the guerrilla war in 1971 and taken to a prison camp in the jungle. Here he is kept prisoner for several months and is interrogated by the now infamous Douch, his every answer being carefully judged and weighed against his survival.

The main theme of this first section is the psychological aspect of imprisonment. He strikes up an unlikely rapport with his captor and perhaps because he is intelligent, or perhaps because he is a French national, he is treated with slightly more leniency than the other prisoners. That being said, this time has clearly had a strong mental impact on the writer and it is a fascinating read.

The second section is equally as spellbinding however. In 1975 the Khmer Rouge forces entered Phnom Penh and after a tense meeting between their leaders and some of the foreign diplomats in the city, Bizot is chosen as the lead interpreter and the only foreigner that is allowed to leave the diplomatic compound until their evacuation is organised.

His primary role thereafter is to find food for the 500-1000 ex-pats that are situated in the city, as well as maintain diplomatic relations with the Khmer Rouge military. As the city descends into chaos and anarchy, this becomes an increasingly difficult task.

As someone who knew very little about this dark period of human history, I found The Gate terrifyingly captivating. Bizot’s use of language is flowery at times, but he is adept at building an impending sense of expectation that weighs on the conscious of the reader. He has clearly seen things that you or I will never see, and he has had to make decisions that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

I don’t want to give any more of the tale away, so I urge you to read it for yourself.

The First Crusade: A New History – Thomas Asbridge                  6/10

This is a non-fictional account of the First Crusade, 1095-1099. The book has a particular focus on the reasons why the crusade started and then chronicles the major events across Europe, Asia Minor and the Middle East, culminating in the capture of Jerusalem by the Christians.

For me, you can divide this book in two. The first three chapters are clearly Asbridge’s motivation for the book, they read like a thesis and the weighting of words given to the section detailing the events leading up to the crusaders actually setting out, is indicative of his priorities. The second section is a more generic account of the main historical events of the crusade.

By no means would I consider myself to be an expert on the crusades, but even I was frustrated with this first section. Asbridge bases his argument for the expedition on the desire of Pope Urban II to expand the power of the papacy and the Christian West. To this end, he downplays tensions and aggressions between Christianity and Islam, claiming the two religions had coexisted peacefully for many years. This opinion flies in the face of prevailing historical thought and ignores a lot of evidence of conflict between the two religions in the 20 or so years leading up to the Council of Claremont, where major Christian strongholds in the near East had been subjugated by the Turks.

Even the scantest research into the topic reveals that there is much debate here, and not many historians agree with Asbridge. That aside, I was almost able to forgive the dreariness of this academic first section, when the liveliness of the second section began to unfurl.

The First Crusade was a marvel of human endeavour and endurance as vast armies from Western Europe marched themselves to virtual destruction before reaching and capturing Jerusalem, their ultimate goal. Asbridge deals with the chronology of events exceptionally well. Lots of the book is given to the year spent trying to capture Antioch for example, an episode that perhaps overshadows the capture of Jerusalem itself, and is thus treated with the significance it deserves.

The major players, the princes of Europe, are brought to life by description. Rightly or wrongly, Asbridge adds character to these historical figures until the reader is entertained by the bombast of Bohemond, the slyness of Raymond of Toulouse and the honesty of Godfrey of Bouillon. He could have dealt with these important people in a more clinical manner, but given that the bulk of the source material that we have from this time concerns the members of the nobility, I think it adds realism to the story.

The achievements of the first crusaders are unparalleled, yet out of a possible 100,000 Europeans who set out, fewer than 15,000 survived to reach Jerusalem. The hardships and disasters faced make for a riveting tale and Asbridge has delivered on this to the point that I am definitely intrigued to read more about the crusades.

If the first section had been as strong a read as the second in terms of entertainment, then I would have scored this higher. I still think it’s a great book for anyone who wants to learn about this period of history, but I would advise that the first three chapters should be read alongside other historians.

Agent Zigzag – Ben Macintyre                               5/10

The true story of Eddie Chapman, a ‘gentleman criminal’ who after a series of events, ends up working for both the German Abwehr and then MI5 as a double agent during the Second World War. 

Why write a sentence once, when you can then reword it three more times and make it into a paragraph? This must surely have been Macintyre’s mantra as he systematically bulked-out what would otherwise have been a fairly compelling story. In fact, there is so much down time in the book that I became increasingly frustrated waiting for the next actual event.

The story itself is good though: The pre-war Chapman is a likeable, cheeky criminal burgeoning into ever more audacious crimes, when he is convicted and sent to prison in Jersey. On mainland Britain he would have been imprisoned for 14 years, but as Jersey is invaded by the Germans he sees a way to escape prison by offering to spy for the German secret service, the Abwehr. After a stint in a hellish prison in France, his application is accepted and he trains with the Germans before being parachuted into Britain as a spy, whereupon he promptly turns himself in to the British authorities and begins life as a double agent working for MI5.

It is an exciting tale that sees Chapman visit several countries across war-torn Europe, particularly reminiscent of James Bond as he is complete with gadgets and girls (Indeed, links to Ian Fleming and Terence Young are mentioned), yet it is told with a desperate lack of panache.

Despite the lack of urgency in the writing, Macintyre does do a few things right. The book is extensively well researched for one. He delves deep into each of the secret services and explains how they operated in detail; the training Chapman receives from the Abwehr for example is especially intriguing.

I also commend Macintyre for taking great pains to remain objective, both with his treatment of Eddie Chapman and with the war as a whole. Chapman is undoubtedly a rogue and at times he is a questionable character. Macintyre does well to maintain this air of unreliability throughout the book, as a reader I don’t think I was ever fully on Chapman’s side. The writing is not jingoistic either, I think factually the British come across as more competent than that Germans, but there is very little flag waving.

I think in the hands of a more experienced thriller writer, this could have been a brilliant book. As it stands, it is still a good read, but it doesn’t quite make the cut for me. Great if you like spy glasses, spud guns and The Eagle, not so great if you’re a fan of good story telling.