Into that Forest by Louis Nowra, reviewed by Ali Bacon

As far as I know, Into that Forest by Louis Nowra wasn't written specifically with young adults in mind, but it was recommended to me by two teenagers whose enthusiasm persuaded me to read it and I gather it’s a popular school read. It's a story about two teenage girls but it’s told by the heroine in her old age who starts with an apology:

"... me language is bad cos I lost it and had to learn it again" something we sense has been caused by the experiences she’s about to relate. 

Hannah lives in Tasmania and she recounts how as a child her parents drowned in a storm during a family picnic. As a result, Hannah and her friend Becky are lost in the outback where they come face to face with two tigers. Despite their terror, they come to realise that the tigers are their only friends and, in a classic tale of survival against the odds, they eventually form a close-knit family unit with the wild animals, letting go of the conventions of their former life and adopting animal behaviour.

At first this is a source of conflict between the two girls, with tomboyish Hannah happy to adopt the animal habits she sees will keep them alive while Becky clings to the remains of her clothes, her speech, and a memento of her mother, until a run-in with a tiger hunter convinces her that not all humans are better than animals.When, after several years, the girls are rescued, they find it equally difficult to revert to 'normal life' in the way that's expected of them and are subjected to a brutal kind of reprogramming. 

It's a remarkable and dramatic story told in a distinctive way with Hannah’s voice consistent throughout, touchingly recreating the innocence of time at which the 'adventure' took place and from which in some ways she has never moved on. The fact that the teenage readers took it as a true story rather than fiction is testimony to its authenticity. 

For me there were some flaws. I found the latter half of the book, where Hannah is packed off to sea on a whaler, less gripping and there were difficulties in maintaining a single first person narrator when Becky's story of the intervening time has to be filled in. The ending also felt too abrupt and I did wonder why the author chose to tell the story in Hannah's old age rather than in the voice of the younger girl, which would have made the events more immediate and the book perhaps more accessible to younger readers.

However  this is an unusual story excitingly told and an excellent read for much of its length. It clearly had two teenagers completely captivated and I would recommend it to able readers of any age who are ready to tackle an unusual voice and take a step into a very different world. 

The book is also available in paperback.

The Death Card reviewed by Bill Kirton

Fast and all action

This is an object lesson in how to sustain tension and achieve that precious goal of keeping the reader desperate to know ‘What happens next?’. From the lively opening to the cliff hanging conclusion where one conflict may have been resolved but it’s clear that others will ensue, you find yourself in the middle of hectic, violent action, witnessing the increasingly extreme and appalling cruelties of a ship’s captain whose personal vendettas and whims seem to colour all his judgements.

In fact, there’s almost a perverse pleasure for the reader in following the imaginative refinements of the punishments and retributions he conceives. His evil seems to spread to others and we even see the ostensibly ‘decent’ young midshipman Ross finding that battle is ‘such a lot of fun’ and yelling out ‘Oh, this is prima, Charlie, this is just tip-top! I have killed three men, I am certain of it! Just wait until I tell my ma and pa.’

The fortitude, bravery and honourable conduct of Charlie Raven is as nothing beside the felony and treachery of Maxwell, Swift and their supporters, whose evil seems to spread and gather strength as the tale progresses. But as we reach each seeming impasse, where ‘good’ is doomed, Needle conjures up another coup de theatre to twist the narrative off into another hectic, tension-filled direction.

In fact, the whole process, with its extremes, its excitements and the apparently irresistible force of evil is part of the best melodramatic tradition. Evil is always on the verge of triumphing and yet innocence is constantly spared. There’s always the hope and an intimation that it will prevail in the end, but not before it’s been through the wringer several times.

It’s a terrific episode, rich in the flavour of Nelson’s navy, constructed with a miniaturist’s attention to detail and certain to satisfy anyone who likes a good story, told at a cracking pace and with such evident enjoyment.

The Firebird Trilogy by Nick Green reviewed by Julia Jones

I've just read the three parts of Nick Green's Firebird Trilogy as one big book. It's been a terrific experience and I'd happily go back to the beginning and start again.

Leo Lloyd Jones is a teenage joy-rider from Salford who is picked – accidentally, he assumes – to be part of an elite group of youngsters who might be required to rehabilitate the world in the case of cosmic catastrophe. This is Project Firebird. Now I don't normally do much in the way of cosmic catastrophe and my appetite for dystopias is distinctly limited. But I love adventure and stroppy teenagers and their capacity for moral decisions and courage and emotion and idealism and that's what Project Firebird gave me.

Leo's quality is leadership, the indefinable sort which is something quite different from ambition or the desire for power. Most of the time he's completely unaware of it but when push comes to shove he's usually able to make the right choices and find the words to inspire others. On his first day at Project Firebird he is sitting next to fourteen year old Rhys Carnavon, the fit, good-looking ' natural leader' who has just trekked back from Antarctica after witnessing the death of his scientist father. The shifting relationship between Leo and Rhys is a main plot strand running throughout the trilogy. It's complex, does not allow for second guessing and has a resonance beyond the individual characters. It's one of the reasons I'd like to read the trilogy again.

Plotting is excellent throughout. For me the books really began to sing at the shift between volumes one and two, Project Firebird to Firebird Dawn. The shock at the beginning of the second volume was, I thought, brilliantly managed – especially when an unexpected twist and additional layer of complexity was revealed later in the book. Another welcome moment was the emergence into the open air. Nick Green seems to be particularly good at evoking effects of light on landscape and glistening natural beauty. Not that the post-disaster countryside is uniformly lovely: there are methane flares from pockets of rotting garbage and a glimpse of a survivor spending his (short) life melting down abandoned plastic. One imaginative insight I especially enjoyed was Leo's occasional sense of his 'own' landscape – Salford, Manchester, the M6 motorway – buried a thousand years below the landscape on which he and his friends are struggling to survive.

There's cruelty and loss in this second volume but I feel somehow that it's the most human of the three. That's a descriptive not an evaluative point. The mainly female Blackwater village, the ruthless Dustral raids are small scale in comparison with the brutalities and stark struggles for existence in the final volume Firebird Radiant. That's fine. I think trilogies should work rather like symphonies with themes introduced, developed and brought to some resounding climax. AS such, however there the obvious danger or predictability and one of Nick Green's clevernesses in his third volume is to counterpoint the megalomaniac’s bid for global domination with the intimate domesticities of broken nights and nappy changing.

There are thrilling action sequences, delicate moments of relationship and some extraordinarily fine descriptive writing throughout the trilogy. There's also plenty of intellectual content and much to reflect on and discuss in our management of the natural world. I rather hope that we are sufficiently co-operative to establish a Global Seed bank to preserve crop varieties – currently I hear more about fragmentation and restrictive patenting. These books could be offered to consumers of The Hunger Games or Malorie Blackman's Noughts and Crosses. Instead each volume is available for £1.85 on Kindle. I don't think this is ideological statement: I think this is 21st century publishing's failure.

Project Firebird Nick Green - reviewed by Susan Price

          Leo is the black sheep of a nice, educated, middle-class family.

Project Firebird by Nick Green

Instead of gaining degrees, like his older brother, he gains street-cred and expertise in twoccing cars. He accidentally becomes a hero when he sees a couple being attacked by a gang, and mistakes them for his brother and girlfriend. He intervenes, steering the stolen car he's driving at the gang, and saving the couple from a beating or worse. It turns out they're strangers - but Leo is not only treated leniently by the court for stealing the car, but is awarded a Firebird Medal, 'a sort of junior George Cross,' for his courage and public spirit.  Leo thinks this hilarious.
          Part of his award is a fortnight's adventure holiday in a remote part of the Lake District. He meets the other Firebird winners, almost all of them high achievers of one kind or another - chess champions, Decathalon Olympic hopefuls, child math prodigies. There's also Rhys Carnarvon, famous for having accompanied his scientist father on a walk to the South Pole, to raise awareness of Global Warming. Carnarvon Senior was killed.
          Leo can't help feeling that he shouldn't be there, that his award was a mistake. If he hadn't thought he was going to the rescue of his brother, he wouldn't have risked taking on the gang.
          At the holiday's end, their cheerful, friendly instructors lock the doors and, taking on a far more military persona, say they can't leave. The Firebird Award was never about rewarding excellence. It's part of the Firebird Project, which is about preserving civilisation for the future.
          A comet is due to strike the Earth. Attempts are being made to deflect it, but there are no guarantees they will work. It can't be predicted exactly when the comet will strike, or where, but it will be soon. The debris thrown into the atmosphere by the comet's impact will cause a winter that will last for years. Crops will fail world-wide. There will be famine, pestilence, war. Civilisation will fall apart.
          The Firebird winners - as intelligent, talented teenagers - have been chosen to survive, and to preserve all that mankind has achieved for the future. An old nuclear bunker under the mountains has been turned into a state-of-the-art home for them, and called 'The Nest.' If the worst happens, they will survive it, and with their own education and knowledge, together with the libraries in the Nest, they can return to humanity all that will be lost.
          Leo feels more than ever out of place. What does a car thief have to offer the future of the world?
          Over the next weeks, housed in The Nest, it is brought home to the teenagers just how helpless and bewildered humanity will be after the comet strikes. One of the instructors asks them to make him a simple cup of tea - first, he says, you'd better trek off to a stream, to get the water. It probably won't be fit to drink. Oh, but wait! - Before that, make a pot to carry it in. And I take milk, so you'll need to have a dairy herd at hand. Sugar? - better start preparing a field to plant the beet. And what about the tea-plants? They don't grow in the Lake District.
          Most of them are unhappy at being parted from their families, even though they're assured that places have been assigned in other bunkers for all their family members. One girl, Paige, is especially unhappy at being parted from the younger sister she cared for and rescued from their abusive home. The little girl is with their adoptive mother, and both will be taken to bunkers, she's told - but Paige doesn't care. She wants the little girl with her, in The Nest.
 

Nick Green

         With the comet's impact imminent, several of the Firebirds combine their ingenuity to help Leo and Paige escape, despite the electronic locks and cameras. Leo twocs a car and they make a desperate drive to London, hoping to get there, snatch the little sister, and make it back to The Nest in time.
           They manage it, but possibly only because the Head Instructor catches up with them in London, and speeds them back to safety. But he abandons them when they're almost at The Nest, while he goes off to try and help his colleagues, who - also searching for Leo and Paige - are trapped in a panicky Manchester. Word of the comet has leaked.
          Back inside The Nest, with the other Firebirds, Leo and Paige watch, on huge screens, as the comet strikes Italy. It's a vividly imagined and described scene. The world goes dark in all senses, and the teenagers realise that their adult instructors are gone, and they are truly alone. They try to contact other bunkers, but there are no replies.
          This is a thoroughly entertaining, exciting, thought-provoking and powerfully written book. The characters are many, all individual and lively - their dialogue is excellent, and witty. They all change, both as they learn more about themselves, and as we learn more about them.
          Eco-conscious teens will love it. Hell, I'm 60 and not very eco-conscious at all, and I loved it.
          Highly recommended. And yet conventional publishers wouldn't publish it. Just as they withdrew from publishing Nick Green's other, highly acclaimed series, The Cat Kin.
          Go figure.

Mad Sir Uchtred of the Hills reviewed by Cally Phillips

S.R.Crockett the 'Vanity Fair' celebrity 

Tomorrow  as you will most likely be completely unaware, is the 100^th anniversary of the death of author S.R.Crockett.  Some of us will be at the Laurieston memorial for 11am and then going off on a walk/picnic/outdoor ‘reading’ of his work – and those who survive will make their way further west to Wigtown for the publication ‘launch’ of The Galloway Collection, which brings Crockett’s Galloway based fiction (all 32 volumes) back into print in a commemorative edition.

So it seemed fitting to put up a review.  I’ve selected Volume 30 which is actually two of his shorter works;  ‘Mad Sir Uchtred of the Hills’ and  ‘The Play Actress.’  

Crockett was a prolific writer (the Galloway Collection only touches about half of his published output) and these two ‘shorts’ which were originally published in serial format and then as novellas, offer something of an insight into the variety of his work. Of course when someone has published over a 30 year career it can be hard to typify their work. With Crockett the underlying elements are History, Adventure and Romance (in various combinations).  You’d think that offered something for everyone then, but why is he no longer read?

Well, in order to be read it helps if your books are in print and people know you ever existed.  And if a weeks a long time in politics, a hundred years is a long time in publishing. Times change. Fashions change. Marketing strategies change.  Writers, yes, even great writers, fall by the wayside. And this is what has happened with Crockett.

Crockett was quite a ‘celebrity’ in the 1890’s – bursting onto the ‘scene’ in 1893 with ‘The Stickit Minister’ ( a collection of short stories from the previous 10 years he’d spent writing for magazines)  This was published by T.Fisher Unwin who was a champion of ‘new’ writers in the 1890’s.  Something obviously clicked, because in 1894 T.Fisher Unwin published Crockett a further 3 times.  ‘The Raiders’ is a smuggling/adventure/romance very much in the vein of R.L.Stevenson (who died in 1894 and who had a friendship by correspondence with S.R.Crockett) and is the one novel anyone who has heard of Crockett might have read.  But T.Fisher Unwin did what all publishers worth their salt do when they put their money behind a ‘new talent’ and in the same year published both ‘Mad Sir Uchtred’ and ‘The Playactress’ in separate editions – talk about flooding the market?! Crockett had already 'proved' himself in the popular magazine market but T.Fisher Unwin gave him the step up to the 6 shilling novel.  In 1894, Crockett was everywhere in the public consciousness – he was the ‘next best thing’  of the late 1890’s. It meant he could get out of a ‘safe’ but somewhat restrictive career as a minister and become a full time writer. Living the dream? He certainly had his day in the sun, but that sun has long set. A hundred years on I think it's time for a new dawn. And like T.Fisher Unwin, I've put my money (and more importantly my time) where my mouth is. 

Writers reading this will appreciate the years that go into becoming an overnight success and will not be surprised that a writer could turn out 4 books in one year. Remember Ian Banks/ Iain M.Banks? And there are numbers of other writers who use pseudonyms when their output is either prodigious or cross genre.  So Crockett’s ‘stats’ are not that unusual. It is true that Crockett was a prolific writer and in the 20 years from his first success in 1894 to his death in 1914 he managed on average 2-3 publications a year.  He loved to write, was a natural storyteller and he of course had bills to pay. He generally wrote one Galloway (or Scottish) based novel (or collection/short stories) a year and one ‘European’ based novel.  His output might seem prodigious but it’s worth remembering that he had a ‘bank’ of writing from the 1880’s to draw from. Yes he worked hard, and yes he worked fast. And yes he wrote to order – he got his ‘break’ and he made the most of it – and yes he wrote in a style that is not ‘fashionable’ today but none of these are reasons NOT to read him.  I come to praise Crockett, not to bury him.

I believe there are a huge number of people who will enjoy reading Crockett’s fiction and the difficulty is in trying to find a place for them to start.  I won’t say that ‘Mad Sir Uchtred of the Hills’ or ‘The Play Actress’ are paradigm examples of his work but they offer a view of the range and, since they are early career works, the promise of what was to come. As such, they are a good place to ‘dip a toe’ into the Crockett stream.

Without more ado:

‘Mad Sir Uchtred of the Hills’ is short and shocking. Originally serialised in a popular magazine in 3 episodes it offers, in its thirteen chapters, a Gothic style story set in Covenanting Times. This in itself is intriguing.  The basic story is of Sir Uchtred who is cursed by a Covenanting Minister (Alexander Renfield.) We are swiftly taken into a world of allegory and symbolism (though you can ignore all this and simply read the fast paced and gruesome story) The curse is that of King Nebuchadnezzar  - which sees him cast out as a beast on the hills.  Crockett’s great strength in writing was his power of natural description and ‘Mad Sir Uchtred’ opens our eyes to this in an immediate fashion but the heavily laden symbolism of the popinjay and the wounded white mountain hare, ensure that for those who want to read a little deeper than the blood and guts and madness, there is much food for thought.

In Crockett’s day there was a furore about his title character’s name. And charges of plagiarism. For the T.Fisher Unwin edition he offers an ‘advertisement’ which points out that the character is not based on William McDowall of Garthland.  It is fiction not fact. The contemporary ‘dispute’ illustrates something that was to dog Crockett all his career – arguments over the nature of ‘historical fiction.’  It was a relatively ‘new’ thing in the 1890’s and Crockett could certainly be credited with an involvement in the emerging ‘genre’ of historical fiction.  Thus reading Crockett is of great interest both to  those who like historical fiction and those who are interested in the development of historical fiction. 

Crockett stated that he wrote ‘Mad Sir Uchtred’ complete in one sitting, on waking from a dream, and it certainly has that nightmare, chaotic quality one would expect from such a work.  Shades perhaps of Coleridge’s ‘dream’ poem Kubla Khan – but in prose form.  While not thoroughly typical of Crockett’s historical or adventure writing, it is a good place to start an exploration of the writer – if you like to be gripped and hurled along a story from beginning to end.

The new Collection, published April 16.

In ‘The Galloway Collection’ edition ‘Mad Sir Uchtred’ is followed by the other ‘short’ work published in 1894 by Unwin’ ‘The Play Actress.’  This is on the surface a completely different kettle of fish.  The obvious  biblical analogy it is that of the prodigal son (daughter or even grand-daughter in this case) but it is a contemporary story which travels between the rural world of Galloway and the urban poverty of London.  As  an author, Crockett writes about social history but is also himself a part of a social history. Another good reason to read him. 

Gilbert Rutherford is preaching locally and at the end of the service a woman dressed in black brings him a grand-daughter (Ailie) he never knew of. This is the child of his now deceased son which Bessie (the child’s aunt) has taken from her dissolute mother (the dead son’s wish)and brought to be reared by his grandfather.  This presents Gilbert with all sorts of emotional and practical challenges.  He does not shirk his duty but he also determines to challenge his prejudices and, once Ailie is set up happily in Galloway, he travels to London to find out what is behind this ‘story’  and deal with the family issues. He is drawn into what he has always believed is the immoral world of the theatre and finds himself both facing the reality of urban poverty, and challenging his views of ‘goodness.’   This is an urban reality we might recognise from a Dickens novel and is every bit as good.  Crockett developed this story theme several times in his later work (most notably in ‘The Moss Troopers’ where he considers the ‘evils’ of London and in ‘Sandy’s Love’ where he delves into ‘the theatre’ and London life once again.)

So, with ‘Mad Sir Uchtred’ and ‘The Playactress’ the reader has the opportunity to see Crockett’s take on history, adventure and romance and hopefully the two short stories will whet the modern  reader’s appetite for more. The good news is that now there are plenty of Crockett novels to choose from in ebook and paperback format.

You can buy The Galloway Collection ebooks direct from the publisher HERE and paperbacks (as well as Kindle ebooks) are available from Amazon.   If you want to find out more about S.R.Crockett (and why wouldn’t you?) you can join The Galloway Raiders – a free online society founded  on the 100^th anniversary of his death to bring him back to life at least in the only form of immortality currently available – fiction.  If you join The Galloway Raiders this week there are special deals on ebooks and you could have read ‘Mad Sir Uchtred’ and ‘the Playactress’ by the time everyone is gathered at the memorial to pay their own tribute.  You may become a fan. You’ll certainly have found a whole new library of books to read. Let’s hope it’s a long, hot summer. 

Review of The Lion of Sole Bay by Julia Jones

In ‘The Strong Winds’ Trilogy, Julia Jones pulls off something quite remarkable.  To suggest it was conceived as an ‘homage’ to Arthur Ransome perhaps does both authors a disservice, because what Jones achieves in her trilogy of children’s books; in which the key features of Ransome also appear – sailing, adventure and the resourcefulness of youth in the face of an alien adult world – is something which will appeal to Ransome fans, but also to those for whom Ransome’s style and characterisation is locked in a bygone age. The ‘Strong Winds’ Trilogy is Ransome for our times. Julia Jones gives us 21^st century children facing modern, everyday, real problems. Whether you like Ransome or not, you can enjoy ‘Strong Winds.’  These are contemporary stories, with ‘issues’ but without being ‘issue based.’ More than that, the adventures are founded in the reality of the lives of these very ‘real’ characters.

I thoroughly enjoyed all three books of ‘The Strong Winds’ Trilogy and could recommend them to both adults and young people alike. These are the sort of books you revel in reading for yourself and make the perfect present for other people. They are books that will sit on many a shelf for a lifetime. The only criticism I could have of ‘The Strong Winds’ Trilogy, is that, like all good things, they had to come to an end.

With ‘The Lion of Sole Bay’, Julia Jones has opened the sea chest again. Moving beyond the Trilogy ‘Strong Winds’ is destined to become a series – and I for one hope that Jone will find the time and energy to match Ransome’s Swallows and Amazons series by writing (at least) twelve novels. 

You can read ‘The Lion of Sole Bay’ as a standalone, and if you do so, you’ll rush back to read the Trilogy. If you have read the Trilogy in advance you’ll find in ‘The Lion of Sole Bay’ an author in full stride, completely comfortable with her writing style. This is a tour de force.  Certainly I have grown into the Jones style of storytelling over the past three novels and this time I sat down with some expectations, which were not disappointed.  Jones managed to far exceed my already high expectations. She has taken a ‘minor’ character from the Trilogy, Luke, to be the ‘hero’ of this tale.  In doing so she reminds us that there are no ‘minor’ characters, that everyone has a story.  Jones’ ability to present the world through the eyes of a twelve year old is impressive, and we get lost in Luke’s ‘imagination’ to the point that we start to ‘believe’ as he does. 

‘The Lion of Sole Bay’ has two ‘heroines’, both unlikely – Angel has ADHD and Helen is being reared by a seriously demented mother. The result is the sense of a ‘community’ story, with characters’ lives interwoven and the reader feels every bit a part of the story.  Jones is, as ever, uncompromising in her portrayal of such ‘issues’ as drugs and disability, but the issues are so embedded into the narrative that they never jar or threaten the storyline. They simply make the characters more real because they have the ‘real’ flaws of ‘real’ people.  This requires expertise and sensitivity on the part of an author, and Jones never skips a beat.  I am particularly impressed by the way Jones draws adult characters such as ‘mad’ Peter, and Helen’s drug-fuelled mother Hendrike. While these are shown in a way that helps a child to make sense of them, they are also convincing enough portrayals for adults to stop and think about the relationship between adults and children. We see the child’s perspective and it makes us consider our own responsibilities.  Julia Jones draws both adults and children into her narrative web, and all can learn from the story.

As for the sailing, I leave it to those more knowledgeable than myself to debate the in’s and out’s of that aspect.  Given Jones’ knowledge and love of sailing I’m sure it’s all accurate and ‘ship shape.’ For an ‘armchair’ sailor like myself, I’ll simply say it’s all thrilling enough and interesting enough to form the basis of the story.  But there’s much more to it than sailing.

Structurally the plot moves along with perfect pacing. I found myself slowing down as I read to the end, not wanting the story to end, but desperate to know what happens next. That, for me, is the sign of a truly well written novel. Using a truncated time frame, round Halloween, worked really well on a number of levels and the linking of historical ‘fact’ with the present is an element I enjoyed immensely.

The central story is further enhanced by the opportunity for the reader to ‘engage’ even more.  The ‘Sole Bay Lectures’, delivered to the children by Angel’s father in their entirety (offstage so to speak) during a particularly tense time in the story, are written out at the end for anyone who wants to know more about the original Battle of Sole Bay 1672 which forms an historical backdrop (and in some senses a metaphorical parallel) of the modern ‘adventure’ part of the story.  We are left questioning the ‘fictionality’ of M.V.Vandervelde which is a writer’s conceit I particularly enjoy.

 I get the feeling Jones enjoys writing her fiction as much as I enjoy reading it, and feeling that bond between writer and reader engagement is rare and powerful.   Julia ‘gives’ throughout the novel is so many ways.  She also gives us additional ‘material’  in the form of personal snippets such as reference to Ransome’s Picts and the Martyrs, and The Lady of Stavoren.  None of this reads like ‘research’ but all of it adds an extra dimension to the ‘story.’ As does the ‘Tales from the Wheelhouse’ section at the end where Jones explains her personal connection to the Red Lion.  Add to this a glossary of Dutch words, maps, pictures of the ‘craft’ and a set of wonderfully evocative illustrations by Claudia Myatt, and you are getting an absolute gem for your money.

I have a sense of sadness whenever I finish a Jones novel, knowing I’m going to have to wait a while for the next. But now, with four ‘Strong Winds’ to read again and twelve Ransome to keep me company till the next one comes out, I may just survive until number five hits the shelves? Next year please Julia!

Review by Cally Phillips