Linda is on the face of it not a very interesting character; she is living the kind of life that millions of people live day by day. Going to work, plodding along, cooking uninspired dinners and pushing the hoover around the house. There is no real communication, or any sense of a spark of connection between Linda and Terry, her husband.
There is plenty of black humour and characters who are all too familiar in this book. From Linda’s mother to nose-in-everything neighbour Malcolm. What happens after the girls on the estate go missing and turn up one by one is very well plotted. I don’t want to say anything more about it all, as I’d hate to spoil it for other readers.
Twisty turny, with a slow-building atmosphere of menace. I had so many questions and thoughts about what might happen when I was not reading, always a good sign of a compelling story.
This novel is deftly plotted, with leaps back and forth in time and to completely different settings. 1989 was interesting, the references took me straight back to my teens. Researching (or just remembering?) that period must have been fun.
The characterisation is solid; because despite a large cast I was never confused about who was who.
It also has to be said (because I bet I’m not the only one) that any book which is set within a large country house and grounds gets my vote too. Woodland, a pool and a view of the sea too? Tick, tick, tick!
My heart was beating so hard by the end. Loved it. This is a book I’ve already recommended to many friends. 5 *****
An engrossing read as we find out exactly what has driven Meredith to stay in her house for over three years, and what happened to cause her to become alienated from her family. Along the way she makes two new friends who have some issues of their own.
Meredith, Alone is in the same genre as Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry and A Man Called Ove. All are linear stories following characters who have deeply personal issues to resolve, as they form new relationships along the way and change through the course of the story.
Meredith is a really sympathetic character, so proactive in her self-care and very likeable, while supportive of others. I imagine the dishes Meredith makes and the items she bakes will inspire. It certainly makes for a cosy read. The food, the cups of tea and the cat. Perfect.
There is one aspect of the story that could have been much darker, which could have changed the path of the story as it moved forward in the present time, but the author chose not to go there.
What a fabulous book! It’s warm hearted, honest and incredibly positive. You feel there is nothing the family won’t overcome, because there’s no such thing as giving up. There’s a problem, then there’s research, teamwork and problem solving. Breadsong is a very uplifting read. Yes, I found myself welling up at times, but then I was laughing out loud and I’m pretty sure there were a few shouted “Hurrays!” And, of course, there is bread. A lot of bread.
I’ve been making bread every week since 2014 when I read The Beach Street Bakery by Jenny Colgan, a warm and cosy novel which really inspired me to make my own. After all I’d grown up eating homemade bread, I knew how much better it was than shop bought. My Mum would come home on a Friday night after working hard all week and make a batch of loaves. I’d wait the minimum amount of time allowed to cut a slice or two. I always spread the crust with butter and honey. For the last 4 years I’ve been baking sourdough, also inspired by some of the bakers Kitty mentions. (Happy 4th Birthday Marve the Marvellous starter!) So, I completely and utterly understand the appeal of dough and baking. It is therapeutic and apart from ending with something hugely tasty to eat, you feel a huge sense of achievement.
I can’t wait to try some of the recipes, in Breadsong. I didn’t realise that there would be so many! HURRAY!
Also I should go and visit the bakery sometime soon. Who can resist a visit after seeing all the beautiful photographs in the book? (And on their wonderful Instagram account.)
Part memoir, part cookbook, this is a very engaging read. I found the descriptions of Ed Ball’s years working in government very interesting. I also loved snippets about Ed’s family life both then and now. Ed always seems likeable on TV and radio appearances and comes across favourably in this well-written book.
I’ve saved some of the recipes to try: including the baked chocolate mousse, the custard (I’ve never actually made custard from scratch, so when it comes around to apple picking time I might make a crumble and serve it with homemade custard, instead of my usual extra thick double cream. My husband will be pleased) the soups and Cajun beans, which I plan to cook this week.
I noted how the finer details of recipes were sometimes lacking, for instance: how big a shoulder of pork for the bbq recipe? Around how many bananas might be required for the stated 425g? Smaller shops do not have scales to weigh produce and it is useful to know in advance. Do you remove the garlic from their skins and eat in the chicken soup, or discard when serving? When making the Yorkshire puddings the instructions state to divide the batter equally, but it does not say around how many portions the roast beef and puddings serves, so it would be rather a guessing game the first time. We tend to take specifics for granted when reading the cookbooks of experienced food writers. None of these are insurmountable problems, but some recipes could be tweaked a little.
Ed’s observations of the Sundays of his youth with the rituals and the patterns of roast lunch, football, the BBC serial and teatime were interesting as he states it was a true day of rest. I’m certain that his Mum didn’t get much rest! However I enjoyed the nostalgia of reading his recalling those quieter, far less commercial Sundays.
I quite often look up unfamiliar words when reading, my favourite in this book was policy wonk! I didn’t think it for a minute it would be in any dictionary. I thought it was probably political slang. Wrong!
I hope there are more books from Ed as I genuinely enjoyed reading his stories and would definitely read another of his books, if it was in a similar vein.
Heartwrenching, hopeful, a testament to love, family and loyalty. There is also humour, a lot of it bleak, but it lightens the reading of what is a devastating story.
Very best wishes to Abi, Jacob and their families.
And there you go, there’s a booklist for your holiday reading, or for lounging about on sunny afternoons (or for cosy winter nights if you’re in the Southern Hemisphere.)
What about you, have you read any corkers lately?