One of the things I have come to love about Susan Hill's Serrailler series is the way that the books almost pretend to be detective novels in order to ask other questions of us. That may sound unfair, because they are very good detective novels in themselves, but is actually a compliment - Hill asks us about community, love, trust and loss and through her beautifully written characters makes us think about what we really mean by these things.
A recurring theme, perhaps because of the nature of the detective novel, is death in its many forms and how we live with it - here while Simon grapples with a series of horrible murders of elderly ladies his sister Cat, in her role as hospice doctor, asks herself questions about the optimal approach to palliative care. The spectre of assisted suicide, the theme from the last book still hovers in the background. Meanwhile the murderer - who has lost his identity and finds that murder is essential to his sense of self - peeps through the pages of the book and asks us - what is it that defines who we are? Echoing the question is Simon himself, struggling with love for his Rachel; Rachel, unsure how to define herself between her love for Simon and her love and commitment to her husband; Molly trying to recapture her own sense of identity, fractured in the assault at the end of the previous book; Sam, grappling badly with the of horrors of teendom and developing personality; and Simon's apparently perfect stepmother, whose at first idyllic marriage may be becoming less wonderful than it seems and changing her with it ...
An absolute joy to read - various commitments went out of the window once I had opened the book. I have enjoyed all of the series so far - but none more than this. If you're already an aficionado you have a treat in store. If not, do start at the beginning and read the lot - they are worth taking in order and enjoying to the full.

Greyladies have dug out another of Noel Streatfeild's grown up books to offer us a little light reading treat. Reflecting as usual some of Streatfeild's fascinating experiences - here of the grandes dames of the theatrical world - we follow beautiful young Beverley, an orphan with a Joan of Arc approach to life, as she take her first governessing job in the house of a major theatrical star "of a certain age". Her children are well on the way to being ruined - alternately indulged and ignored, dressed to set off their mother, and already cutting years off their age so as not to call hers into question. Of course Beverley succeeds with fair play, routine and imagination to begin to win them round and set them fair. But as always there is a pesky man just waiting to throw a spanner in the works. What happens when the diva's favoured boyfriend starts enjoying the kids' company more than hers - and starts noticing the governess....? As often with Noel Streatfeild, between the cracks of an apparently frothy confection one sees some rather bleak life views - if you care to look for them. But don't look too close and it's a very enjoyable light tale.

If you want in depth micropscopic analysis of the Plantagenets, this probably isn't the book for you (but frankly if you thought you'd get that in one book you'd be a bit odd). If you want a good overview of what the up to date scholarship has to say in a rip roaring, page turning form which gives George R Martin a run for his money - well here's your book.
I bought this with an eye to picking holes in the bits I know a bit about, and filling in gaps easily on the bits I don't. To be honest I was so engaged by the book I stopped trying to pick holes very early and surrendered myself to the fun. With short pacy chapters it is easily readable in bits after a hard day's work - and keeps you wanting to find out what's happening in the next chapter (think Dickens). In terms of reliability its not faultless - there is maybe a tendency to chose the most tabloid of the chroniclers' accounts rather than the most reliable where a good story is in question, but it is pretty darn good, and (one particular joy) it doesnt wimp out of taking a view. I would regard it as a fantastic way of doing a catch up on bits of the Plantagents you don't know about (and the fuller scholarship is well indicated for further reading); and I think it would make a great way of capturing young minds to the joys of history. With this in mind I'm getting a copy for each of my elder godchildren when it's out in paperback (they're not strong enough to wrestle with the hardback!)

First off, this is certainly a good read, and it is very good to know more about Vera Atkins, the eminince grise of SOE, who has appeared in the margins of the accounts of numerous SOE operatives' lives and deaths. And for anyone who has not read individual accounts then it will be a fascinating eye opener as to the personalities involved and the terrifying missions they undertook.
However if you are familiar with the broad outlines of the story of SOE this might well be a somewhat frustrating book, which has too much of the author's struggles to follow Vera's trail and too litle evaluation of the controversies - and even ultimately rather too little in the way of conclusions about Vera herself.

I can't praise this little gem highly enough. It is neat, tidy and seems beautifully made for the money - a very nice finish which loses very little to the much more expensive jewellery box it sits next to. It looks even better in real life than it does in the photo. I will certainly buy more as the opportunity arises ...

Louise Wilkinson has done a fine thing in bringing Eleanor de Montfort into the spotlight with this book. She was a woman who had a fascinating life - abandoned by her mother as a child, played into a political marriage as a teen, abandoning a vow of chastity to marry the compelling character Simon de Montfort, and at his side as he battled her own brother, queen in all but name for a year, horribly widowed and losing two of her grown up sons before her own death; yet to date she has appeared really as a bit part player in others' stories (particularly Simon's). This well researched and well written book presents her life as a comprehensive whole, and invites the reader to consider a number of the interesting issues which swirl around her.
Actually this last, to me, is something of a weakness - the issues are certainly presented to us, but it is usually not clear where Wilkinson is coming down on them. As speculation is necessary this may be the correct position for an academic historian, but I am not sure that it is the best course in a book of this sort. I felt that a number of the issues would have benefitted fromm fuller examination, and an author's informed hunch based on that material. Examples include the interesting questions of: was the Montfort match a love match or a money match (with both of them more or less mistaken as to each other's means), to what extent was Eleanor's intransigence around the Treaty of Paris her own work, and to what extent orchestrated by Montfort, and what was the Montfort game plan post Lewes - and did Eleanor subscribe to it (Maddicott tends to favour the view that Montfort was aiming for regime change - with the necessary implication that Henry III and Edward would have to be disposed of)... I also felt that the twists and turns of the Barons' war, and ELeanor's likely reactions to them would have benefitted from greater amplificiation. Albeit she was not a direct player, the issue of the emotional conflict which she must have faced between husband and her own financial interests on one side and her loyalty to her affectionate if hopeless brother on the other deserved more air time. It may be of course that the conclusion is that by then she and Montfort had effectively had it with Henry well before 1258 because of the long running financial conflicts over her dowry - but a detailed consideration of the likely subjective position of the Montforts in the light of the objective facts past and future, would have been very interesting ...
As a result I felt that a longer book would have been an improvement, but that is not to say that the book does not stand well as it is. I should also mention the fascinating insights Wilkinson gives on the subject of the household accounts of Eleanor for the year 1265 - when she and Simon stood at the apex of political power. The workings of a quasi royal household are laid bare to great effect - and the intercessionary role of Eleanor as de facto queen can be observed. A marvellous snapshot of a key year in the life of this interesting woman - which was also a key year in English history.

If you have been worried this might not live up to Wolf Hall, put your mind at reat. It may even be the better book of the two! Cromwell walks right back into our lives as if he had never been gone, shining his clear vision on the miscellaneous cast of characters who inhabit Henry's court and confiding his own inner thoughts and visions to us too.
A fascinating book, this - it covers a relatively short period between the death of More and the fall of the Boleyns - scant months, but full of rumour and intrigue, which have been handled by all of Anne Boleyns and Henry's biographers, but never entirely satisfactorily. Cromwell senses the shifts in power at the court, accepts his alienation from Anne and moves to realign himself elsewhere - with the Seymours and ultimately with the older courtiers who look to bring Anne down. Always he must have his eye on Henry's moods, which he half hides and won't acknowledge, requiring Cromwell to perform feats of inference and divination. The atmosphere is wonderfully, tautly conveyed, and never more so than in picturing Anne defeated, fallen in on herself, but still hoping in the flash of her eye for the reprieve which does not come.
The very great achivement of this series of books (and yes, there is to be a third) is to humanise Cromwell - show the man inside the enigma, show his priorities and loyalties. The idea that Anne's "lovers" may have been picked by him in revenge for their actions to Wolsey is fascinating and presented in a way which is very compelling. Certainly the idea of Cromwell as a fundamentally loyal man is one which is attractive, and consistent with his behaviour to Wolsey, as well as with his superhuman efforts to please Henry (which can as well be put down to this as the traditional cold blooded desire for success and power). It also fits with the rather warmer picture of him which emerges from sources which describe him as a clubbable man ...
Finally regardless of the book's status as a truly excellent historical novel, it is also a really well written book. I found Wolf Hall a bit of a struggle in this respect on first reading, though on second reading I came to admire it very much indeed. I think stylistically Bring Up the Bodies has all the merits of Wolf Hall, with fewer of the problematic aspects. A fantastically well written book, which will repay re-reading.

Josephine Elder's books show us that "having it all" - or failing to- is not such a modern dilemma. In "The Encircled Heart" she wrote of a marriage struggling under the strain of the female protagonist's career as a doctor. In this book she goes one further and shows the fate of the (female) doctor's family after her husband walks from the marriage, unable to take being second fiddle to his wife.
The dilemma is rather topical in the context of recent debate about professional women "marrying down" (dreadful phrase) and its consequences. To her she has done no more than organise what needed organising, and encourage him to structure what in a family context needed structuring, while making sure food was on the table; which, if left to him, it might not be. But the cost is their marriage, which dwindles into an empty shell, and his creativity; so when he chooses the high road rather than her road, we are perhaps not as outraged as we'd expect to be.
But will she, as we half expect, be better off without him? And how will her children, the offspring of these two wildly divergent temperaments, fare, jerked out of their placid routine at rather interesting points in their lives?
Elder's view is far from saccharine, that is for sure!

A follow up to "Summer Term" this is another schools story with the emphasis firmly on the staff, not the boys. The charming Head ("the Beak")'s younger daughter Alison returns from finishing school to spend the apparently notoriously difficult spring term at home before casting about for a job. How will she fare with all the young single masters? Will her friendship with one of them turn to romance? Meanwhile will Tim, a junior master in love with a Norwegian au pair, manage to blot his copybook both romantically and professionallyby his fatal predilection for straight talking? And will Oonagh (aka the Swooner), the glamorous temp, fulfil her mission to further her own prospects and disrupt those of as many other people as she can? The plot may not surprise, but there is great fun along the way. A recommended holiday read.

There is no doubt that Preston knows his stuff - he is the "go to" man for this era of Spanish history. So if you want a meticulous authoritiative account, this may well be your resource. One can't say it is a fun or an easy read. The subect matter precludes the former, and the sheer weight of detail precludes the latter.

I would not myself recommend it to a first time reader on this subject; having approached it as such myself I found it really quite a struggle and had to go off and get some background elsewhere to put me in context, after I spent the first hundred pages or so feeling my head was spinning. However I gather from other reviews that if you are less lamentably ignorant on the subject than I was, it is much less of a struggle; so if you know a bit about the subject chances are you will revel in it. And to be fair once I did get a bit settled I found it a hugely informative, if deptressing, book.

My one niggle (and this may be my ignorance, but the Lit Rev reviewer seemed to think this too) - there seemed to be something of a pro-Republican bias. All the republican outrages seemed to be accepted as legitimate revenge for earlier horrors by the rightists; but a rightist outrage, even where it was expressly said to be in revenge (and where Preston accepted such a republican attack had taken place, which he often does not, sometimes without explaining why) never seems to be accepted as justified revenge ...