The Surplus Girls by Polly Heron

I’ve been excited about The Surplus Girls ever since fellow Sister Scribe Susanna Bavin (writing for Corvus as Polly Heron) told me about the concept over a year ago. It is just such a brilliant idea to write about the lives of these neglected women, living in the aftermath of the first world war, in the form of a series of sagas.

The surplus girls were, quite simply, the women who lost fiancés and boyfriends (or even just potential partners) in the war. Whatever their class they had been brought up to expect marriage and children, but now there were not enough men to go around and they were ill prepared for any other sort of life. Most would need to find gainful employment with little or no training, and all would have to look for other ways to make their lives as fulfilling as possible.

The Surplus Girls is set in the suburbs of Manchester in the early 1920s, with a cast of characters from both working and middle classes. Belinda Layton, a mill worker, lives with her late fiancé’s family and after four years of deep mourning is beginning to feel a little smothered by their kindness and intense grief. Belinda’s own family is even further down the social scale, living hand-to-mouth as her feckless father drinks away what little they have.

When Belinda bumps into her old teacher she hears the term ‘surplus girls’ for the first time and is forced to consider her future, beginning to dream of leaving the mill and working in an office. At first this seems hopeless, but then she is introduced to spinster sisters, Prudence and Patience Hesketh, who have their own reasons for opening a business school for young ladies.

Polly Heron has a rare talent for portraying the atmosphere of a setting with a few carefully selected sentences, which never detract from the pace of the plot. And pacey plot it is, making The Surplus Girls hard to put down.  The detail of the era is there, forming a rich background tapestry, but I never once felt I was bogged down by it. While I could see, hear and breathe the world the characters inhabited, as I reader I was free to enjoy being transported there and immerse myself in their story. And it takes a great deal of skill for an author to achieve that.

SISTER SCRIBES’ BOOKS OF THE YEAR 2019

 

Kitty: I knew when I was reading it that Circe would be a book that stayed with me for a long time and I’m happy to call it my book of the year. I’m already itching to re-read it, an absolutely wonderful read. 

I finished Circe by Madeline Miller this month and I cannot do justice to how much I loved it. The story of Circe, a woman locked in by her divinity whilst also dealing with the very female roles of mother, daughter, sister and lover. This retelling made Circe much more accessible and empathetic than the male-centric version that I grew up with. Full of self-discovery, courage and empowerment it turns the myth of vicious witch into a story of a true heroine. I loved it so much that having read it once I am going to store it, like a secret treasure, for a re-read in a few months so I can wallow in it slowly and feel the magic again.

Susanna:  I love Carol’s 20th century sagas, but this year she wrote her first Victorian story, which happens to be my favourite historical setting. Carol Rivers + Victorian = one very happy reader!

One of the things I love and admire about books by Carol Rivers is that, while some authors get a bit stale and produce books that feel samey, Carol always writes something fresh, using new ideas, at the same time as remaining true to the drama and strong sense of personal relationships that characterise her books. Christmas Child is a story for any time of year, not just for the festive season. An emotional and enthralling tale, it follows Ettie as she faces up to life’s dangers and challenges and learns the hard way that not everyone deserves to be trusted. I love stories set in Victorian times and I’m delighted that Carol Rivers has, for this book, left behind her customary 20th century setting and moved into the 19th century. I hope there will be more Victorian stories to come from this wonderful writer.

Cass: A hilarious yet poignant story of self discovery, where you are laughing out loud one moment and holding back tears the next.

“Everyone should be adopted, that way you can meet your birth parents when you’re old enough to cope with them.” So says Pippa Dunn, the eponymous heroine of Alison Larkin’s debut novel, The English American (which has its roots in her autobiographical one-woman comedy show of the same name). Adopted as an infant and raised terribly British (attending a posh boarding school, able to make a proper cup of tea and in the ‘love’ camp for Marmite on toast), Pippa – now 28 – discovers her birth parents are American. Finally, she begins to understand why she’s so different from everyone she knows. Pippa sets off for America, soon meeting her creative birth mother and her charismatic birth father. Moving to New York to be nearer to them, Pippa believes she’s found her ‘self’ and everything she thought she wanted. Or has she? This is a hilarious yet poignant story where you are laughing out loud one moment and holding back tears the next. Pippa’s journey is very funny, yet deeply moving, and I highly recommend The English American to anyone who loves to finish a book with a smile on their face and a warm feeling in their heart.

Jane: Elizabeth Buchan’s The Museum of Broken Promises is, like her other books, a slow starter. I have learnt to be patient while she creates a tapestry of detail so rich and wonderful, holding my breath until to story tips into second, third and fourth gears and becomes unputdownable.

The book is set in Paris in the present day and in Prague in the 1980s. The end of the Cold War was in touching distance, yet nobody knew it, and this adds an additional poignancy to the narrative. Laure, a young woman coming to terms with the death of her father is an au pair to a businessman and party insider, and while trying to make some sense of life behind the Iron Curtain, meets a dissident musician who steals her heart and soul. Years later in France, she sets up the Museum of Broken Promises, full of artefacts people donate in attempt to avenge or assuage the pain of betrayal – and some of them belong to her own past. Slowly the book teases out truths from a long ago Czechoslovakian summer. One moment achingly beautiful, the other shocking in its violence, the whole fits together like a handmade glove. It stayed with me, too – and it’s only now I’m writing this review I finally understand the most important promise. And who broke it. A must read. Honestly.

Kirsten: Beautifully written and no matter how grim the present times feel, at least we are not living in a plague village in 17th century Derbyshire!

I love historical fiction and I was late to the party with  Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks. It was published in 2002 and was recommended to me several times before I finally grabbed myself a copy. The book is set in 1666 and it’s based on a true event. The Great Plague has reaches the quiet Derbyshire village of Eyam through a contaminated piece of cloth that has been sent to a tailor from London. It’s the only place in the region that’s been affected and the villagers make the extraordinary decision to isolate themselves totally so that the plague cannot spread further – so no one allowed in or out until the plague has run its course or everyone has died. This story is told through the eyes of 18-year-old Anna Frith as she confronts ‘the loss of her family, the disintegration of her community and the lure of a dangerous and illicit love’. I loved it. It’s sad and interesting and touching and fascinating and I had no idea that anything like this had happened. I wonder how we’d have reacted in the same situation.

SISTER SCRIBES’ READING ROUND UP: NOVEMBER

Jane:

My first read of the month was The Daughter of the River Valley by Victoria Cornwall and I enjoyed this book so much. It drew me in from the beginning – it was so refreshing to read a story set in Victorian times with a fiery female working class character, and which wasn’t unrelenting doom and gloom. Well written and meticulously researched, I absolutely loved it.

I’ve had a real historical month and also adored Tracy Rees’ Darling Blue (now republished as The Love Note). Set in Richmond in the 1920s it charts the stories of three women, during a year when each of their worlds changes beyond recognition. The cast of characters is beautifully drawn, and rather than being a predictable flapper-fest, the novel addresses some of the important issues of the day, including the way the First World War changed both people and society. But for all that it isn’t a heavy read; it’s sensitive and joyful and at times impossible to put down.

Finally, in the name of research, I read Alice Chetwynd Ley’s A Reputation Dies. It’s a detective story set in London in 1815 and her use of period language is so rich it was a joy to read. I felt completely immersed in the period and enjoyed this historical cosy crime very much indeed.

 

 

Kirsten:

I love historical fiction and I was late to the party with  Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks. It was published in 2002 and was recommended to me several times before I finally grabbed myself a copy. The book is set in 1666 and it’s based on a true event. The Great Plague has reaches the quiet Derbyshire village of Eyam through a contaminated piece of cloth that has been sent to a tailor from London. It’s the only place in the region that’s been affected and the villagers make the extraordinary decision to isolate themselves totally so that the plague cannot spread further – so no one allowed in or out until the plague has run its course or everyone has died. This story is told through the eyes of 18-year-old Anna Frith as she confronts ‘the loss of her family, the disintegration of her community and the lure of a dangerous and illicit love’. I loved it. It’s sad and interesting and touching and fascinating and I had no idea that anything like this had happened. I wonder how we’d have reacted in the same situation.

 

Susanna:

The first two novels in Clare Chase’s Tara Thorpe series, Murder on the Marshes and Death on the River, are set in and around Cambridge and the Fens. In the first book, Tara is an investigative reporter, while in the second, time has moved on and she is now a police officer, which makes an interesting transition that adds depth to the story. The plots are clever, with twists, atmosphere, pace, a range of well-fleshed-out characters and plenty to make you think. The settings in the books are beautifully conveyed and show Clare Chase’s skill as a writer. I enjoyed the chemistry between Tara and Garstin Blake and when I read the second book, I longed all the way through for Tara’s nasty colleague to get his comeuppance. There are two more Tara Thorpe books (Murder Comes to Call and Death in the Fens) and I’m looking forward to reading those.

 

SISTER SCRIBES: SUSANNA BAVIN ON WHY WE NEED LIFE-AFFIRMING STORIES

Certain types of books have a way of touching readers on a very personal level. For example, starting-again stories are deservedly popular. Who hasn’t at some point said to themselves, “If I could go back and do it all again…” or words to that effect? Call it a natural thought process based on experience or disappointment; call it pure fantasy. The point is that wondering “What if…?” it is part of the human condition and starting-again novels speak to us in a direct way that we can all relate to. One such book is the wonderfully funny and fulfilling The Summer of Second Chances by Maddie Please. Written with a light touch and plenty of chuckles along the way, this is a witty romp that deals with serious themes that add depth to the story.

Another type of book that touches readers in a similar way if the life-affirming story, the sort of book that touches on the strength of the human heart, and encompasses the resilience of the individual and a basic belief in goodness and hope.

Take Minty by Christina Banach. This is a YA book, but, as an adult reader, I was completely drawn into it. It deals with the difficult subject of death and bereavement and is beautifully observed and deeply moving. As well as tragedy and grief, there is also humour and wit and both the characterisation and the depiction of relationships are both spot-on. The book’s ending is an extraordinary piece of writing, being both heartbreaking and uplifting, and it will take your breath away. In spite of Minty’s central topic, we are very much in life-affirming territory, thanks to Christina Banach’s skill and empathy as a writer. (If this blog makes you buy the book, I’ll know when you are all reading the ending, because shares in Kleenex will go through the roof.)

Recently I read Christmas at the Foyles Bookshop by Elaine Roberts. This is the last in a trilogy set in the early part of the 20th century, about three friends, Alice, Molly and Victoria, with each girl taking centre stage in one of the stories. Right from the beginning, the girl I most wanted to read about was Victoria, whose parents died tragically when she was just sixteen, at which point she had to assume responsibility for the younger children; but I had to wait until the final book to delve into her life and find out the answers to all those questions. Victoria has known her share of heartache and now she faces the challenge of a family mystery. Set against the backdrop of the First World War, Christmas at the Foyles Bookshop is an emotional story, filled with love and loss, friendship and family, mystery and duty, heartache and hope. Elaine Roberts has written a heart-warming and engrossing saga that rounds off the trilogy perfectly. It gradually builds up to a gloriously satisfying ending brimming with that special life-affirming quality that, put simply, makes the reader feel good about the world.

 

 

SISTER SCRIBES’ READING ROUND UP: JULY

Cass:

“Everyone should be adopted, that way you can meet your birth parents when you’re old enough to cope with them.” So says Pippa Dunn, the eponymous heroine of Alison Larkin’s debut novel, The English American (which has its roots in her autobiographical one-woman comedy show of the same name).

Adopted as an infant and raised terribly British (attending a posh boarding school, able to make a proper cup of tea and in the ‘love’ camp for Marmite on toast), Pippa – now 28 – discovers her birth parents are American. Finally, she begins to understand why she’s so different from everyone she knows.

Pippa sets off for America, soon meeting her creative birth mother and her charismatic birth father. Moving to New York to be nearer to them, Pippa believes she’s found her ‘self’ and everything she thought she wanted. Or has she?

This is a hilarious yet poignant story where you are laughing out loud one moment and holding back tears the next. Pippa’s journey is very funny, yet deeply moving, and I highly recommend The English American to anyone who loves to finish a book with a smile on their face and a warm feeling in their heart.

 

Kitty:

I’ve been in editing mode this month so have listened to audiobooks to relax, sitting there as the words wash over me reminds me of story tapes and childhood and I quickly sink into a blissful state.

Helping me do this was Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere.  Having read rave reviews and knowing it had been optioned made me curious and I was greatly rewarded for being so. I got utterly caught up in the story of the families in this book, Ng’s characterisation deft and skilful with surprises around every corner as she explores themes of motherhood and social class.

I’m currently listening to Sally Rooney’s Normal People and again can’t help but admire the way she captures that insecurity and self-doubt of adolescence that lies behind the masks we don. Two remarkably skilful writers that I highly recommend.

I’ve also devoured Jill Mansell’s Don’t Want To Miss A Thing – in book form. As ever, Jill Mansell can be relied upon to be utterly perfect as she delivers that hit of escapism and brings a smile to your face. Faultless.

 

Jane:

I’ve been reading two books set in Italy this month; both romances and both by members of our ‘Take Four Writers’ team from last year. But apart from that they couldn’t have been more different and it was a joy to be reminded how broad the church of romantic fiction is.

The first was The Tuscan Secret by Angela Petch. This is a dual timeline between the present day and the Second World War and the historical part is loosely based on Angela’s husband’s family. Tuscany is a part of the world she knows very well and her love for it shines through in the achingly beautiful descriptions of the settings. This very gifted writer can certainly take you with her, both in terms of location but also the richness of the story. It’s a much loved trope (daughter is left to discover mother’s secret after her death) and so well told I really missed the characters when I had finished reading.

In complete contrast Lucy Coleman’s Summer on the Italian Lakes is a thoroughly modern love story. After a rather nasty bout of writers’ block, romance author Brie Middleton agrees to help out at a summer retreat on Lake Garda, and of course love is just around the corner. What I particularly liked about this book was the ‘shape’ of the romance – it wasn’t formulaic or predictable – but to say more would be a spoiler. The characterisation was fabulous too and it makes a great holiday read.

SISTER SCRIBES: SUSANNA BAVIN ON SKIPPING

Do you ever skip parts of a book? You don’t want to give up on the book because you’re interested enough to want to know the ending… but, still, you find yourself skipping through bits of it.

I have a group of friends I meet up with each week for coffee – well, hot chocolate, in my case. We talk about all kinds of things, but this week there was a conversation about books and one friend talked about a book she had started reading with pleasure, but then she had gone off it a bit, though she still wanted to know what happened at the end, so she had skipped parts of it.

That got me thinking about what might make a reader skip bits of a book and I have come up with three reasons why I have done it:

 

  1. Padding…

… by which I mean excessive description. Yes, description is important – of course it is. It creates the setting and contributes to the mood and atmosphere. It deepens the reader’s relationship with the character and submerges the reader more fully in the book. But you can have too much of it. It shouldn’t make the description read like a piece of authorial self-indulgence. I’m thinking now of a book in which the writer spent two whole pages describing the kitchen(!). And then there was the novel in which an architect spent a whole chapter walking round a city, admiring its buildings and finding inspiration for his own work. It didn’t advance the plot – or if it did, I missed that part because I skipped to the next chapter.

  1. Lecturing

Or should I call it The Dreaded Lecture? In another novel involving a real theatre, the author had obviously done his homework – the operative word being ‘obviously.’ He couldn’t stop himself sharing every single thing he had learned about the theatre’s history. It turned into a page and a half of lecture. It didn’t advance the plot and nothing in the paragraphs of history was ever referred back to as being a crucial detail later on in the book. In fact, this theatre appeared only once in the narrative and then the action moved on elsewhere. In other words, the author hadn’t understood that, just because you’ve picked it up in the course of research, doesn’t mean you have to commit it to paper.

  1. Back Story

I’m not saying there should never be back story. Some is essential to an understanding of the plot, but entire chapters of it…? I came across a book a while ago, which involved a family which, in spite of minor tensions, was clearly happy and united, with Mother as the lynch-pin. Early on in the plot, Mother died in a freak accident. How would her adoring husband cope? What fresh responsibilities would fall on the shoulders of our young heroine? What would happen next? What actually happened was a trip back in time to wander through Mother’s childhood and see how she grew up to meet and marry Father. I wasn’t interested in that – I wanted to know what happened next.

SISTER SCRIBES: KIRSTEN HESKETH ON LOCAL RADIO STARDOM

I’ve been on TV and radio a number of times.

I’ve appeared on Flog It (in a filthy temper after the runner referred to my children as my grandchildren!). I’ve had a blink-and-you-miss-it appearance in a documentary about the Docklands. I’ve even been an extra in a comedy filmed at my children’s primary school starring Keeley Hawes no less (no, we haven’t stayed in touch!)

But I’ve never been in a real studio and I’ve never done anything linked to my writing.

Until today.

The lovely Claire Dyer asked if I would like to take her place as a guest panellist on Bill Buckley’s Reading Reads on Radio Berkshire.  I was enormously flattered and said yes before I had a chance to say no because it’s miles out of my comfort zone and Claire has very big shoes to fill.

The book we were reviewing this month was Life Death and Cellos by local author Isabel Rogers. I was sent a copy and duly read it, making notes as I went and feeling ridiculously important.  The book is a treat, BTW – a real laugh-out-loud ensemble piece with a big heart.

Panellists also recommend two others books and I plumped for The Girl Next Door, a taut and twisty psychological thriller by Phoebe Morgan and The Deserter’s Daughter, a saga set in 1920s Manchester by my fellow Sister Scribe Susanna Bavin.

The day itself was such an experience. To my husband’s despair and amusement, I started my day with a highly indulgent blow-dry; ‘it’s the radio, darling’.  Of course, no one took a single photo of me all day, but still; it’s how you feel about yourself that counts, isn’t it?

Radio Berkshire is set in an industrial park just outside Reading – the sort of place where your sat nav leads you to somewhere half way along a dual carriageway with no discernible building in sight. I arrived a trifle later and much more stressed than I would have like.

The regular panellist, David Barker, was already in reception and he was very kind and welcoming. He also explained exactly what to expect which was just as well because there is very little briefing or preamble; Radio Reads takes place half way through Bill Buckley’s afternoon show so you’re wheeled into the studio during a song, a few introductions and you’re off. At first I was very aware of the microphones and the production people behind the windows – they reminded me of the one-way mirrors when I am moderating focus groups, but Bill was so warm and friendly that pretty soon it just felt like a chat. There was even time, when songs were playing or the news was on, for Bill to explain his job and all the things he’s constantly juggling – like what to do when the traffic presenter went temporarily AWOL – whilst making it look oh-so-easy and effortless. It was all terrific fun and I was thrilled when Bill and David chose Susanna’s book as the book of the month.

All too soon it was over. I walked though reception on cloud nine, half expecting everyone to stand up and give David and I a rousing round of applause. Nothing. No one batted an eyelid. I switched on my phone. Daughter was feeling sick, could I pick her up from school? A reminder that I have a dentist appointment tomorrow. Husband had found a ring on the archaeological dig.

Life goes on … but what a blast!

Thank you, Claire Dyer, for the opportunity.

 

SISTER SCRIBES: SUSANNA BAVIN ON BEING READ TO

When I was a teacher, I made a practice of reading to the children every day, whether it was a complete story or the continuing story of what the children called a “chapter book.” Often there would be time for both on the same day. The children loved being read to. I remember the near-hysteria that was occasioned time and again by John Prater’s Once Upon a Time, as the young audience glimpsed the fairy tale characters strolling one by one onto the pages; and all those favourites that were loved by class after class, such as Gobbolino, the Witch’s Cat, Red Herring and The Kitnapping of Mittens.

Perhaps my favourite memory is of finishing reading Dick King-Smith’s Lady Daisy to a Year 2 class. There was a moment of breathless silence at the sheer perfection of the ending and then the children burst into spontaneous applause. (Those children will be doing their A levels this summer!)

Frankly, I think that being read to is one of life’s joys. I also think that the pleasure of being read to is something we never grow out of. As an adult, I always have two books on the go – the book I am reading and the one I’m listening to. As well as having favourite authors, I also have favourite readers and there have been times when I have chosen a talking book by an author I have never read, simply because I know I will enjoy the reader’s performance. Yes, reading an audiobook is a performance, a proper acting job, and it takes huge and specialist skill.

The narrator is required to tell the story in a way that conveys character and atmosphere, but without their reading being intrusive. The listener should be absorbed by the story itself and, other than enjoying listening to it, shouldn’t be specially aware of the reader’s voice at the time. Gordon Griffin is the master of this. A veteran of more than six hundred audiobooks, he has a companionable and quietly expressive voice that is easy to listen to.

When The Deserter’s Daughter was published in 2017, the audiobook rights were bought by Isis Soundings and, as a keen talking book listener, I was thrilled to think that my book was going to be recorded. I was curious as to which actress would be chosen. Anxious, too. What if they selected a reader whom I wasn’t keen on? In the event, Julia Franklin was invited to do the job – and I couldn’t be happier. She has been up there among my favourite readers for years and I am enormously proud to have her as ‘my’ reader. Her performances are engaging and unforced, with an intuitive sense of character and timing. I don’t know whether authors are supposed to listen to their own talking books, but I loved listening to The Deserter’s Daughter and A Respectable Woman and am delighted that Julia has added an extra dimension to my books.