Rose Tremain

Having now read three or four of Rose Tremain's books I find them all very different in terms of plot, setting and characters. And all almost unbelievably well written. Her characters are so wonderfully constructed, and she also has so much compassion for each of them, irrespective of who they are or what the story is about.

There are a whole bunch of quirky and fallible characters presented to us here, mostly from the small Suffolk farming village of Swaithey. Chapters reflect the passing show more years, ranging from 1952 when Mary was six, up to 1980: although there are often gaps of two or three years between them. The events encompassed within this passage of time are told in some sections from the point of Mary and also her mother, Estelle, with the bulk of the book being in the third person. It could be jarring, but it isn't. It follows Mary through her awakening and growing awareness of the fact that she really is a boy, her subsequent difficulties and her slow transformation into Martin. But it is not all about Mary and Martin. The other characters are so richly drawn, and they too have their stories to tell.

For much of it, Sacred Country is a profoundly sad read. Sad, but not depressing, even though depression is certainly present throughout the book. There are moments of light, of hope, of humour, and even of happiness. As Martin says to Jeremiah out in the fields towards the end of the book: "Age isn't the only thing to creep up on us. Sometimes it's happiness."

Sacred Country is a book that will make you think . . . and also hopefully one to make you pull yourself out of that rut you've dug yourself into. show less

First, let me start by saying that this book was a gift from Paul, so thank you Paul for your generosity and also for helping me to discover a new author. I really liked this story and think it is one that I will revisit.

The main character here is Lev, a widower in his forties trying to raise a young daughter and take care of his mother. The sawmill in his village has closed down, and there is no more work for him. He is also still grieving the loss of his wife, so Lev is a bit closed down show more himself. We are not told what country he is from, but the references make it feel like Poland or perhaps Russia. When we meet Lev, he is on his way to London to look for work. He hopes to find a job, but this is much more difficult than he had thought. It is not just that he doesn't speak the language well, it's that everything works so differently and things cost much more than he had anticipated. His story is a familiar one except that Tremain's writing elevates the ordinariness of Lev's journey - it feels real, and the characters feel real, which is what I loved about this book.

I also loved how Lev wanted to move forward but couldn't resist looking back. That's how the heart works - we grieve for what we have lost, for what we can no longer have, and if left unchecked, it can threaten our forward momentum. The book beautifully captures Lev's aloneness - he is surrounded by people, but they are not his people. And Lev is fully human - he is resilient and hard-working, willing to learn and approachable, but often lets his anger get the best of him. He is both selfish and generous. Thoughtful and thoughtless. Like most of us, he is deeply flawed. So we are shown both his beauty and his ugliness. There were times when I wanted to wring his neck or, at the very least, smack him around a bit, but for the most part I genuinely liked him. And I enjoyed his journey.

My only complaint would be that the ending here seemed too abrupt. I felt cheated, and I wanted more. I don't need for things to be neat and tidy, but I like when they feel finished. And that unfinished feeling here is what had me deducting half a star from the rating. Other than that, the book is lovely.

"Lev could see that darkness was falling outside the window and he thought how, in his village, darkness had always arrived in precisely the same way, from the same direction, above the same trees, whether early or late, whether in summer, winter, or spring, for the whole of his life. This darkness - particular to that place, Auror - was how, in Lev's heart, darkness would always fall." show less

Gustav and Anton meet on the first day of kindergarten. It's 1948 in a small town in Switzerland and Gustav responds to Anton's fearful crying by playing with him and distracting him. Gustav's mother, a depressed widow who works in a cheese factory, is not thrilled about her young son's friendship with a boy from a wealthy Jewish family, but Anton and Gustav become best friends nonetheless. Not only are their stations in life vastly different but their apparent prospects are, too. Anton is a show more gifted pianist, a prodigy. All expectations are that he will become a famous concert pianist, a dream that Gustav struggles to support although it evokes a bewildering sense of betrayal and abandonment in him.

We follow the boys' relationship, but the narration also takes us back in time, to 1939 when Gustav's parents met, fell in love, and married, and had their happy life brutally disrupted by the specter of WWII and the fear of a German invasion. Gustav is told by his mother that his father was a hero in those early days of the war and that he sacrificed his life to save the Jews. Ah, but there is so much more to that story.

I thoroughly enjoyed this novel. Tremain develops her flawed characters with compassion and a bit of cynicism. At times I felt the story veered too far into implausibility but it was compelling and satisfying nonetheless. Tremain continues to be an author worth the allocation of my precious reading time. show less

A wonderful, imaginative collection of stories! From the funny tale of a stationmaster at a Russian outpost where Tolstoy stops needing help, to the tragic where the lives of two families who lost loved ones in WWII intersect 30 years later, to a tale of Daphne du Maurier's inspiration for Rebecca, each one is a gem. One character buys a record "Les Feuilles Mortes" which she says is about the way life separates you from people you love. In some sense each story is about the loss of someone show more or something. The tales are poignant, but engrossing and beautifully written. show less