This was another of the books in the Reclaim Her Name series, where works by female authors which were published under male pseudonyms are finally released under the author’s real name. Keynotes was originally published under the name George Egerton, and is an example of early modernist work.

As someone who’s not the biggest fan of modernism, I was wary of starting this. I wanted to read all the Reclaim Her Name books, so I did get around it eventually, but I was concerned it might be similar to be experience of Ulysses, which I really struggled with. Fortunately, it was more like my experience with Virginia Woolf (who’s work I quite enjoy).

While I expected this to be a novel, it’s more like a collection of untitled short stories – but none of the pieces really feel like a cohesive whole. They’re glimpses into the lives of several characters, with the emphasis usually on relationships between men and women. Each piece paints a beautiful, vivid picture, and the feelings of the characters as they, for example, contemplate an affair, or consider the waning love in their marriage, come across really well.

I won’t deny, it’s a book that’s hard to follow sometimes. There’s a lot of information on thoughts and histories and so forth, that the lines between past, present, and future, can feel blurred. What is specifically happening in the moment is often unclear, and you may find yourself re-reading certain passages over and over to make sense of them. No doubt this will be off-putting for some, but I still think it’s a beautifully written book.

I don’t think there’s a real, narrative-based connection between the stories, but it is very possible that it simply went over my head. There are certain themes (for example, the relationships between men and women) that run through all of them, but I think that’s the only real connection. If you’re a fan of classics, and especially modernist works, then you might well enjoy this, but I think it’s a book of rather niche appeal.

Rating: 7.7/10

Little Women and its follow-up Good Wives (which are often just considered as a singular piece of work, collectively called Little Women), make up one of my favourite stories in classic literature. The third book in the series, Little Men, doesn’t ever seem to get quite as much attention, and now having read it, I can see why. While I definitely enjoyed this and wouldn’t want to suggest it was bad, it doesn’t feel like much of a meaningful continuation of what came before.

A few of the characters from the first two books appear, but the ones with the biggest role are Jo and her husband. Of all the characters to be a focus for a third book, I am glad that it was Jo, because she was my favourite of the Little Women and what she’s doing at this stage in her life is really cool: helping to run Plumfield – a school for underprivileged children.

Though the thing about this novel is that it is told from the point of view of the children at Plumfield. At the start, a boy named Nat comes to stay with them, and we get the story of him getting used to his new life in the school, getting to know the other kids. Together they all share various little adventures, which prompt them to learn important life lessons (much like the girls did in the original novel), but it feels like a new story in the same setting, rather than strictly being a continuation of the old story – a ‘next generation’ type thing.

It’s a very episodic novel, which each chapter telling a different story, but I actually like that style of storytelling. It gives different characters a chance to step into the spotlight at different times, and means they all get developed quite well. The cast of new characters is pretty great too. Some examples include Nan (one of my favourites), who is a young girl who has too much confidence (which leads to sticky situations), Dan, a boy who grew up on the streets and struggles to adapt to polite society, and Daisy (who is Amy’s daughter), who for a while, is the only girl there.

It’s a wholesome novel that I enjoy for much the same reasons as I liked the first two books, though it felt closer in style to Little Women than to Good Wives, which is a bit of a step down, after how good the second book was. Nonetheless, there’s a lot to be admired here, and I think it’s good for fans to view this as a kind of spin-off, rather than a true sequel, as that will alleviate any disappointment somebody may feel in expecting a third book in the series.

One of my favourite things about the book was the fact that it was generally pretty progressive. Jo thinks that it’s important for boys and girls to be educated together (which was ahead of its time) and also understands that individual students have individual needs. Obviously, there’s the odd bit of dodgy nineteenth century values every now and then, but I think it’s very good for it’s time, and it always makes me happy when authors I like are on the right side of history.

If you’re looking for a cosy read which manages to embrace the darker side of life without losing its positive ethos, then this is a must-read. Fans of Little Women in particular should give this one a go.

Rating: 8.3/10

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In this sequel to Batman: The Long Halloween, we’re given an account of how Batman and Robin first met, and of how the events of the first story took lasting tolls on all the characters involved. In many ways, it’s the perfect sequel, because it feels like a natural continuation of the event in the previous one – although I suppose it’s overall story is quite similar to the first one, which might be disappointing for some.

So, basically, what happens is that the killings which coincide with holidays start happening again, and of course, Batman is on the case to investigate it… the problem is, that since everything that happened with Harvey Dent, Batman has become even more isolated than he was before, and it’s effecting his capabilities. He needs someone by his side, so it’s lucky that he happens to meet Robin through the course of his investigation.

What I really liked about this story was the fantastic atmosphere that comes from Jeph Loeb’s writing style and Tim Sale’s art. Some comics are all about the action and the fights, but, like the last part, this is genuinely written with all the depth that you’d find in a murder mystery novel. There’s a moody feeling that runs through all of it, almost like a more modern day noire style, and it gives a strong impression of life in Gotham City.

The setting is just part of it, the biggest thing for me was the fantastic cast of characters. Obviously, there’s Batman and Robin, who are always great, but then there’s also various members of the Falcone crime family, commissioner Gordon, and loads of iconic Batman characters like Catwoman, The Joker, The Riddler, and more.

I think what I liked most of all was the way that it had so many different characters who all had their own unique motivations, and then drama ensued from the way in which their different trajectories through life intersected. I was invested in all of them, and for that reason, several moments throughout the story felt really shocking. If you’ve read The Long Halloween, I definitely recommend following it up with this.

Rating: 9.1/10

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The King in Yellow is a book that’s known to have been an influence on H. P. Lovecraft and the Cthulhu mythos, so going in, I expected the stories in this collection to be fairly similar to Lovecraft’s own, but they’re really very different. The biggest difference is that the collection feels a little more literary.

Something that ties (some) of the stories together is The King in Yellow itself. The King in Yellow is a play that, if read, supposedly drives people mad. Only a few little details about the play itself are revealed within the stories, but the implication is that reading it is a truly shocking and harrowing experience. It’s a fun concept, anyway, and I appreciated how it popped up in all different kinds of stories.

Something that was quite interesting about this collection was the fact that there was a lot of variety among the included stories. One of them shows a dystopian future, one is pretty much a straight ghost story, one is a melancholic tale of heartbreak, another is about the horrors of war. You could say that they’re all about horrible experiences that nobody wants to have, but they are all so different from one another.

Despite all the stories being so different, one of the things that I admired most about this collection is a the bohemian feeling that runs throughout it. There are various stories about troubled artists in Paris, and I love that atmospheric way in which their lives and the setting are described – you really get caught up in their mindset and their lifestyle. It’s great.

I kind of wish that The King in Yellow appeared more frequently in the stories, because it’s a concept that I found really interesting. Unfortunately, it’s in less than half of the stories (which was a surprise, because based on the title, I thought it would play a role in all of them), and sometimes its appearance is a relatively small one. Having said that, I certainly don’t want to suggest that the stories without it were lacking, because I loved them, but I had the distinctive feeling of being left wanting more.

My favourite story was possibly ‘The Repairer of Reputations’ which gives a look at the (then future) year of 1920 and its strange political landscape. “The Demoiselle d’Ys” meanwhile was another favourite. It has a ghostly aspect to it, though interestingly, I have seen that some people interpret it as a time travel story (which I guess is just as valid – what happens is a bit ambiguous). If you love pure horror (or strange fiction), you’ll probably love “The Mask” which is about a liquid that can essentially turn anything it touches into a statue – for me, it was easily the most disturbing in the collection.

Score: 8.6/10

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This lovely poetry collection by A. A. Milne contains the very first appearance of the iconic character Winnie-the-Pooh – although here he’s called Edward Bear. The poem in which he appears “Teddy Bear” is actually a very sweet little piece about him feeling self-conscious about his round belly, but ultimately learning to feel confident about it. For the kindness and warmth that Winnie-the-Pooh is known to embody, this is a very fitting debut for the character.

Having said that, don’t start this poetry collection thinking that it is a collection of Winnie-the-Pooh poems, as it certainly isn’t. Christopher Robin is featured in the collection, but he’s not a character at all, rather A. A. Milne’s real life son who he ended up using as a character in the Winnie-the-Pooh stories. Indeed, one of the earliest poems in the collection is called “Buckingham Palace” and it seems like a heartfelt poetic write up of a trip taken to the titular location by A. A. Milne and Christopher Robin (who seems to have been a very young child at the time).

The whole collection seems, pretty much, to have been written from the perspective of early childhood. No doubt, you’ll have been read many of these poems when you were a child, either by parents or at school. That was definitely the case with me, with “The King’s Breakfast” definitely standing out as a poem that I had heard before. Plus, there’s “Halfway Down” which was famously performed on The Muppet Show years later.

Honestly, I don’t have much else to say about this collection. It was something I enjoyed reading and the author seems to be working hard to preserve the precious memories of his son’s childhood. For that reason, it’s something I’m sure a lot of readers will enjoy reading with their kids, but even if you don’t have kids (like me) there’s a lot to appreciate and admire about these poems.

Rating: 7/10

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This was my third Jane Austen book – I thought the first one I read was pretty great, and I thought the second one I read was really boring, so I went into this book feeling like it could go either way. Fortunately, I really enjoyed this one, and perhaps it comes down to the fact that it was written towards the end of Austen’s life (by which point, she’d have had plenty of time to refine her skills).

Persuasion is a novel about a woman named Anne Elliot who has to move (along with her family) into a smaller home in Bath after facing some financial hardship. This, however, brings up tensions from her past, as the new home is owned by someone who’s wife is related to somebody that she was once going to be married to. Of course, the marriage never happened originally and now, at age 27, she doubts that she will ever marry and feels awkward about running into her former fiancé (Captain Wentworth), so she postpones going to Bath by having a prolonged visit with her sister at the nearby Kellynch Hall.

This isn’t a novel with huge amounts of drama or action, but it’s a novel about interesting people who I felt invested in. The social dynamics and the encounters the various characters have with one another were always fun to read. This being Jane Austen, there are often comically biting remarks made between the characters and other humorous interactions.

What I liked about this one in particular (more than the other Austen novels I’ve read) is the greater emphasis on feminism. One scene in particular has a man trying to tell a female character how women behave at large, which she refutes, and he tells her that he has read many books which back up his point of view on the matter, only for her to rightly point out that most of those books will have been written by men. Meanwhile, there’s a character named Mrs. Smith who gives an insight into a poorer person’s life, which is refreshing since Austen novels are usually pretty focused on relatively affluent people.

As someone who lives in Bath, I also appreciated the fact that much of the storyline takes place in my hometown, with descriptions of streets and locations that I know. Around Bath, you’ll find countless references to Jane Austen and the fact that she once lived here, and this novel in particular is one to read for Bath residents who want to find out more about her work.

Overall, this was quite a cosy read. From walks with friends in the countryside, through to long discussions in drawing rooms, there are plenty of conversations between great characters in this book and it’s easy to lose yourself in them. The romance in this novel was one I actually felt invested in (which is rare for something of this era) and it feels relatively short too (which is also refreshing for its period). If you’ve never read a Jane Austen novel before, I recommend this as a good place to start.

Rating: 8.3/10

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The twelfth volume of the Assassination Classroom is mostly all about the mysterious assassin known as The Grim Reaper. Of all the foes that Koro-sensei has faced thus far, this is the one that seems to be the most capable. Of course, he ended up in quite a tight spot during the tropical island storyline, but that was more the result of an opportunistic foe, rather than a capable one.

In this story, The Grim Reaper targets the students of Class-E in order to lure Koro-Sensei into a trap. In my opinion, this storyline is the most tense the story has been since the incident on the island and it makes for fantastic reading. It becomes hard to see exactly how Koro-sensei could save the kids without making himself vulnerable to his foe. Of course, his determination to do this in spite of that risk, highlights how much of a caring person he is.

One thing that I also appreciated about this volume was its use of Ms. Jelavich. She was never one of my favourite characters in Assassination Classroom, in part, because it felt kind of like she was just there for some silly sex appeal, but this volume uses her in a way that I thought was both unexpected, and really interesting.

This is a particularly difficult volume to review without spoiling anything too much, but I will say that the reveals about The Grim Reaper’s identity are really cool, and Jelavich’s actions are quite shocking.

Rating: 8.9/10

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Following on from the end of The Great Hunt, the third book in The Wheel of Time series starts with Rand now knowing that he is indeed the Dragon Reborn. Consequently, he leaves the other characters to do what he thinks he has to do. This makes the book quite different from the first two, because you don’t actually see that much of Rand, with more of the story being about the rest of the cast following after him and having their own adventures.

One of the storylines I enjoyed reading about was Mat being taken to The White Tower in order to be healed of his corruption. As always, I enjoy anything about the Aes Sedai, and it’s good to see Min, Egwene, and Nynaeve making their way as novices. Meanwhile, Mat starts to get back to his old self a little (which was good to see, because I never liked his evil/weakened selff) and he even gets to reunite with Thom Merrilin, with whom he has a good dynamic.

Moiraine, my favourite character in the series, gets to play a larger role in this one than she did in The Great Hunt (which was a welcome development), and Verin becomes a much more important character too. The more Aes Sedai the better, as far as I’m concerned and these two both enhance the novel.

The book also introduced a new character called Faile, a hunter of the horn who joins Perrin and the gang in pursuing Rand. Though there’s nothing too bad with this character overall, she mainly seems to have been introduced in order to be a love interest for Perrin, and, gosh, is it an obnoxious romance. They’re both endlessly bickering and disrespectful towards one another, and yet for some reason we’re supposed to accept that they love one another. Why? They’re both so awful to each other that there’d be no time for a romance to grow.

The Perrin/Faile romance is probably the most annoying part of the book, but it really embodies the slight issues that start to rear their head in this one. While the first two books have men and women thinking to themselves “gosh, the opposite sex is impossible to understand” which is kind of silly, but perfectly harmless, this one seems to make a point of showing all romantic relationships as being based on endless arguments. It also starts to seem like every woman who meets Rand falls in love with him, which feels too silly to me.

Overall, this was a good book. I’m invested in the characters and world, so seeing what happened next to them all was great. Meanwhile, there are little things like a further exploration of the parallel worlds that I found absolutely fascinating, and which make the setting even more interesting. Rand goes off the rails a little as well, and questioning whether or not he has maintained his sanity adds some good tension. It all comes together in a satisfying climax as well, it’s just a shame that there’s a fair share of rubbish annoying bits sprinkled in, which was never really a problem in the first two books.

Rating: 8/10

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The third and final novel in the Howl series feels much closer in tone to the first book, rather than the second, and for that reason, I think it was probably my second favourite of the three. There’s a whimsical charm to it, but its story definitely feels slightly more focused than the first one (even though I prefer the first).

In this book, a girl named Charmain is sent to house sit for her uncle, a wizard, who has had to visit elves in order to recover from an illness. This house is bigger on the inside, and doesn’t have a consistent layout – there are ‘many ways’ and it’s difficult for her to figure out which halls lead to which parts of the house. Meanwhile, most of the stuff in there is enchanted with some kind of magic, so she keeps inadvertently causing all kinds of bizarre things to happen which she doesn’t understand.

One of the book’s biggest strengths is its great sense of setting. You get a real feel for this mysterious old cottage with its seemingly endless corridors. Though it is very, very different to the classic gothic novels, in this regard, it does remind me of them, with the beautifully described house, out in the middle of nowhere, that the protagonist is trying to adjust to.

Charmain herself is a great character too, who gets paired up with a boy named Peter for most of the book after he arrives to come and work with her uncle as an apprentice (not knowing he isn’t there). Peter is pretty arrogant, and Charmain’s endless frustrations with him are really funny sometimes.

Characters from the first book do also return, but in a similar way to Castle in the Air. I won’t spoil anything, but I laughed out loud when I found out how a certain character factored into what was happening in this one. I definitely didn’t see it coming either – a wonderful twist.

However, as much as this novel can be really funny at times, it is also a lot darker than the other two. We’re introduced to a creature called a Lubbock, which is a humanoid insect that lays eggs in people’s stomachs. When the eggs hatch, they burst out and kill the host – or if the host is female, they are born like a regular human, then sneakily live out their life looking like a normal human, but secretly trying to create more Lubbocks. They’re so sinister, I genuinely think they could have been the villains in a straight horror novel, rather than a whimsical fantasy book.

Overall, the only real criticism I can aim at this book is that it doesn’t really feel like a conclusion to the Howl novels – just another story. This isn’t really a problem, but as I enjoyed all three books, it would have been nice to have some kind of closure. Maybe we would have had some too, if Diana Wynne Jones hadn’t died just a few years after this was published. I think it’s best to view them all as novels that share a world, rather than a trilogy, because there’s not much of an over-reaching storyline that ties them together (though you definitely benefit from reading them in order). If you’ve read the first two, I strongly recommend you round it off with this one.

Rating: 9/10

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