Catherine Fox's novel Acts and Omissions, the first of The Lindchester Chronicles was named as one of The Guardian's books of 2014 and was followed by two more. The Chronicles were intended to be a trilogy, but the events of 2020 gave Catherine the perfect opportunity to revisit Lindford's residents once more. Tales From Lindford was originally written in real time as a series of blog posts and this makes it very 'of the moment' as you read.
Perhaps this original blog style is also what made me find it a perfect book for picking up and putting down. The dramatic personae at the start does help a bit if, like me, you get a bit muddled as to who's who from time to time. I suspect this was mainly necessary due to the fact I've not (yet!) read the earlier volumes.
There's a bit of something for most people in this book with its wide cast of characters. I loved meeting Fr Dominic who worries for his elderly mother; Jack-in-the-greenhouse and Miss Sherratt who watches for the green card he places in the window each day; various clergy and lay people and their respective families; and my favourites - youngsters Leah and Jess. Honestly, I promise that's not just because we share a surname! Jess's diary is a highlight of the book for me, with her wonderfully pithy commentary on growing up and her tolerant affection for fiery older sister Leah who has strong views and expresses them forcibly. (Small spoiler: Covid comes very close to the Rogers family.) We also see how the ebb and flow of the pandemic affects everyone, with the resulting impact on family life and friendships, some of which show more obvious strain than others.
The overriding reason this all works so enjoyably as a novel is Catherine's brilliant use of prose and the underlying wit which often appears. Early in the book, commenting on Brexit, she writes: 'But whichever way we voted back in June of 2016, the end has manifestly not come with the decisive bang of a Hazard Type 1 professional-only firework. It was more your back garden Catherine Wheel nailed to the clothes prop.' There's lots of political commentary throughout, told from various character's perspectives, and it's likely you'll find something with which you don't agree. (You'll also find strong language from time to time, fyi.) But that's one of the factors which makes this book such a compelling read, and there are plenty of 'day to day' elements which are just fun (maybe even when they aren't funny, strictly speaking). You'll have to read the book to find out the amazing reason why, for example, Mrs Logan wants Turkish Delight. Go to pages 444-446 if you can't bear the anticipation for the entire book! The story (stories?) itself is sometimes 'stoppy-starty' by the very nature of writing about the lives and Time of a village and its surrounds, but anyone who lived in semi-rural England during 2020 will recognise elements of their own lives in its pages.
Halfway through the book, in June, Lindford is waiting eagerly for Lockdown to Lift. 'The pale horse is currently quietly cropping grass in an English meadow, but the horseman will ride again.' Reading this with hindsight, the author was clearly accurate in her expectation. Nearly a year on as I write this review, the pale horse is galloping hard across India even as we are waiting to see, here in the UK, whether all restrictions will be lifted soon. Yet even if they are for many of us 'normal' will be a long time coming. Tales from Lindford is a reminder that across communities people are coping with Covid and other things day to day in many and varied ways, with many and varied influencing pressures apart from The Pandemic itself. It's a clever, witty, engaging, sad, joyous and challenging read which I highly recommend.
Note: for transparency, I was sent an advance copy of this book, but I was not required to write any specific or favourable review. All views herein are my own.
No comments:
Post a Comment