Tower and Town, June 2019

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A Good Read

I’ve been walking around with a daft grin of pure pleasure on my face lately, because – pause for drumroll – Kate Atkinson has written a new Jackson Brodie novel, Big Sky. This series isn’t exactly detective fiction, though investigation is always at the heart of the narrative. They’re books about people (what other subject is there?), the messiness of life and the horrible mundane sordidness of crime. Set on the Yorkshire coast, the subject matter of Big Sky is definitely grim: sex-trafficking and historical child abuse cases, with shades of Jimmy Savile and Operation Yewtree. So you’ll have to trust me when I say that it’s also lightly funny, the humour in the writing skittering around the darkness of the theme while in no way trivialising it. Kate Atkinson’s intricate and tightly controlled plotting, beady observation of character and loose yet spiky writing have me gibbering with enthusiasm. "Easy reading’s damn hard writing” as the man said (Nathaniel Hawthorne, according to Google, don’t write in), and on that basis I reckon K A must be worn out - fans should club together to send her on a holiday (to somewhere relaxing, like the salt mines). I had to force myself to read slowly, savouring every line and rationing myself to make the book last.

 If you’ve read the J B novels you’ll know why I’m so happy about this latest title and you’ll be delighted at the return of some characters (Reggie’s back, and doing well, also the slightly terrifying Tatiana), and of course, of course, Jackson Brodie himself, currently baffled by his teenage son and wonderfully, wearily, always doing the right thing. (Yes, I am in love with Jackson. I’m not alone.) If you haven’t read them then I almost envy you, because you’ve got four to catch up with, you lucky people. You really need to read this series. I mean it, go away and start with Case Histories. You can thank me later.

Just a couple of lines left to highlight a lovely summer read. When a book is labelled ‘whimsical’ most right-thinking readers should look for the nearest shredder, but it’s hard to find another way to describe Antoine Laurain’s novels. Somehow, though, he gets away with it. (Something to do with being French, perhaps?) Vintage 1954  involves a group of people sharing a bottle of 1954 Beaujolais and being spirited back to the Paris of that year. Yes, it is as fanciful and fluffy as that sounds, but, like all Laurain’s books, it’s warm and wise too and a perfect read for a summer afternoon. Pour a glass of something, find a sunny spot and enjoy it.

Debby Guest