Kate Saunders (1) (1960–2023)

I've previously started this book at least 3 times and never gotten past the first page - or even gotten to the first page before being distracted by something else so this time I was determined to get this book read.

It turns out that once I could actually sit down and read more than a handful of words, getting it read wasn't a problem at all. It was a great read! I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The book starts out like it's the middle of an on-going series; it doesn't bother to lay down a bunch show more of background or drag the reader through Mrs. Rodd's start as a discrete detective. But never as the reader was I confused, or felt left in the dark, or plopped into the middle of things. Small moments here and there fill in quite a few blanks; others just aren't that necessary (or perhaps are being saved for future books?) and there's plenty of mystery to take up the pages; the author doesn't need filler.

The widowed Mrs Rodd works through her brother, a distinguished defence attorney, and is called upon to look into the background of a young window deemed thoroughly unsuitable by the rich father of the young man who wants to marry her. But unbeknownst to them all, there are far bigger problems blossoming for the family, and Mrs. Rodd finds herself in the thick of happenings rather diabolical.

According to the author, readers of David Copperfield will recognise her inspiration for this book (I've not read DC). Whatever her inspiration, the characters and setting were pitch perfect and I just enjoyed every minute I spent with Mrs. Rodd and company. Although I sussed out the plot twist very early on, I was too engrossed in the read to notice or care, and the pace remained brisk from beginning to end.

The only niggle I had is a small one: Mrs. Rodd is the widow of an archbishop, so there's every possibility that the heavily spiritual/religious bent to the narrative is just part of her character. It totally fits and it's never, ever preachy, but it's just dominant enough that it could also be the author using the book as a platform to evangelise and that possibility sours, just a tiny bit, what would have been my complete enthusiasm for the book. Thankfully, Mrs. Rodd remains smart, sensible, non-judgemental and with enough humour for the niggle to remain tiny.

The cover implies this is the first of a new series; if so, I'll eagerly be in line to purchase the next one. show less

Quite enjoyable; a nice period mystery wrapped up in interesting characters. I liked the way Mrs. Rodd was able to use her station in society as a way to learn about suspects in the murder. I enjoyed reading about an intelligent, intuitive sleuth, but I also liked that she made mistakes. Saunders did a great job of making her seem real and flawed. I also enjoyed watching the interactions between the characters—the adult siblings, the troubled marriages, the frustrating sister-in-law, the show more lovable curmudgeon, the unflappable best friend—so charming to read. I seem to read a lot of YA books, and even the more grown-up stories I find tend to focus on protagonists in their 20s. I was surprised by how much I loved reading about a woman in her fifties. She's wiser than many younger heroines, she has life experiences to draw on, and she's in a position to better understand the other people she encounters. It was nice to read about a real adult, who is good at adult-ing, and who is interesting to boot. I would like to read more in this series. Such great fun! show less

I read a lot of E. Nesbit when I was about eight or nine years old. At the time, I never really noticed that most of her books follow a reliable - even repetitive - pattern (short story mini-adventures of siblings strung out into a novel, often with a grumpy magical creature involved), that her language and attitude is distinctly upper-class, or that they wouldn't really work outside of their own era. The children Nesbit depicts are both freed from the Victorian rules of their parents and show more more restricted than children of the mid-20th century, and as such, they live in a sort of golden, idyllic England that only existed for a very brief fragment of time...and possibly, only in the rose-tinted glow of fiction.

Kate Saunders' Five Children on the Western Front is both an homage and a goodbye to this twilight time. It is actually inaccurately named; it should be Six Children on the Western Front, with the addition to Cyril, Anthea, Robert, Jane, and the Lamb of a new sibling, Edie. This time, it is Edie and the Lamb who discover the family's old acquaintance, the Psammead, who has lost all of its magic abilities and is trapped in 1914. Why - and what they do about it - is, at least, one of the major strands of the novel, although possibly the least effective.

What I expected when I requested this book from the library was a novel written for adults, one of those books like Geoff Ryman's Was that looks back on a childhood classic with a wistful, knowing, even unsettling air. And there are certainly moments of that here, especially as the story goes on. However, I was extremely surprised to discover that Saunders has actually written a children's book, with a fairly convincing impression of Nesbit's own authorial voice - and while that is often charming, and occasionally even disarming in more tragic moments, it's got its share of problems, too. The upper-class "jolly-hockey-sticks" quality so imbued in the children's language can jar in moments of pathos, and there's an odd tendency - especially in the Psammead's stories of its own past - for Saunders to show instead of tell. It's not a deal-breaker, but it does make some of the book's revelations feel a little bit inconsequential. There's a somewhat heavier book locked away in this one, and I can't help thinking it would have been just a little bit more satisfying.

That said, what Saunders has written is certainly very readable, and it is an interesting way of presenting World War I to the child audience. The Psammead itself is utilized as a sort of child reader surrogate, starting off totally solipsistic and learning, over the course of the novel, to grow and care more about the humans who are so devastated by the war's progress. (Again, some of this transition seems a little bit sudden; even the Psammead's speech patterns become more eloquent and emotive in a very short span of pages.) There are moments of both joy and horror that Saunders carries off with considerable aplomb, and one simple, heart-breaking image at the end of the story that pretty much makes the whole thing worthwhile. It is completely unsurprising to learn, in the afterword, that Saunders' own son died in 2012, and although she doesn't make the connection explicit, it's impossible not to read that as a catalyst for her fictional examination of lost childhood.

As a standalone book, I'm not entirely sure Five Children on the Western Front "works" - but it comes close. As a modern-day-hindsight sequel to Nesbit's classic, however, it has a lot of merit. It will mean the most to those who, when young, cherished the stories of Cyril, Anthea, Robert, Jane and the Lamb, their golden age adventures of time travel and misbegotten wishes, and the little sand fairy who became their friend. show less

Tom always thought he was a nice, normal kid. Until the morning he wakes up to find both his parents missing and an elderly fairy rummaging around in the kitchen. Events move at a breathtaking pace as Tom discovers his father is a fairy and on the run, his mother has been hidden for safekeeping, and only his eccentric godmothers, a punk rocker (who also happens to be a fairy), and his cousin, the most inept fairy that ever lived, stand between his family and a lot of very powerful, very show more angry, very nasty fairies.

I've been booktalking this for a year without reading it (I know, I know, but I do it all the time. I don't always agree that booktalking something you've read is better. Sometimes it's harder to booktalk a book you know intimately, especially if it's something you really love. That's my feeling anyways) but when I finally got around to it, I really enjoyed it. The cover is misleading though - the dragon is a very minor character and only shows up at the end! It was a good cover choice though, since that's why most kids pick up this book.

This was a really refreshing book to read and very British. It seems like American children's literature, especially fantasy, gets more didactic all the time, even if the "lesson" is just How to Be a Good Friend. There's absolutely no lesson in this book. The elderly godmothers enchant children to steal for them, turn millionaires into slaves and cheerfully inform Tom that he's a second-class citizen because he's a demisprite. At the end, they just as cheerfully reform, admit humans do have some good points after all in passing, and everyone lives happily ever after. Tom and his friends incinerate fairy guards with their lightning guns without post-traumatic stress disorder and while his inept cousin does turn out to have some useful abilities, he doesn't magically gain...magical powers.

Verdict: In other words, this is a light, fun, action-packed read. Kids won't care about the holes in the plot when they're breathlessly waiting to find out if Tom disintegrates when he passes through the fairy realm barrier and anyone would forget that their mother was encased in a jar of sun-dried tomatoes when they're caught up in an exciting fairy court case. Magical and delightful, just the thing to add to your collection and balance all the drama-heavy fantasy series.

ISBN: 9780385740777; Published 2012 by Delacorte/Random House; Review copy provided by publisher; Purchased for the library show less