Forfatter: Mirthful

In which we go spying.

The second book borrowed from Theresa was Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh. I really don’t have a lot to say about this one either. I enjoyed it is praise enough. One thing I wasn’t quite happy with was that the child psychologist seemed to make a point – worth noting, I thought – of how Harriet was less able to concentrate on what was actually happening around her when she was taking notes all the time, and I felt that that point was never really taken up again. But that was really all I had to complain about, and it wasn’t very important at that.

In which we revert to childhood, briefly.

Theresa forced (ok, so I didn’t exactly protest loudly, I think my response to «You really must borrow..» was «Yes, please!») a couple of American classics on me the last time I visited and I’ve just finished two. The first was Charlotte’s Web, which was sweet and touching and that’s pretty much all I have to say about it.

In which we are enchanted in a soberly fashion.

Waiting for Snow in Havana: Confessions of a Cuban Boy had to wait, half-read, on the shelf while I made my way through Hobb and Fforde. This was an unwarranted slight on my part, and I apologise. Eire describes his childhood in Cuba in vivid detail and on occasion you almost feel the sun on your face as you watch him and his brother blow up lizards. From his father – who thinks he is the reincarnation of a French king – to the tiny figure of Castro as he addresses the people, the book invokes a magical – though by no means problem-free – childhood turned upside down because of a revolution.

In which we become clairvoyant.

Claudine Cullimore’s Small-Town Girl is a pleasant read. There is really not much more to be said about it.

Oh, go on then. It’s got the right mix of romance, friendship, character growth and serves-you-right-ness. The language is flawless, and never intrudes upon the flow of the story with odd springs (whether on purpose or mistakenly). The only negative thing about it is the predictability (I guessed all the major twists of plot way in advance of the «reveal»), but what can you expect?

Perhaps I should have left it at «a pleasant read» after all.

In which we ramble through Africa.

I picked up Peter Moore’s Swahili for the Broken-Hearted in the aforementioned 3 for 2 sale at Waterstone’s in Brighton, and started it shortly after finishing Fforde back in July. So why haven’t I reviewed before now? Well, things have been happening and book reviews haven’t exactly been my top priority.

Anyway. It’s pretty good. Nothing spectacular, but a decent, mildly entertaining read. I won’t ruch out to buy any more of Moore’s books, but if I come across one of them in another three-for-two sale, I might just buy it.