Sarah Rayner

I was misled by the title: while this is to some extent a book about depression (what it is, its symptoms, causes, possible treatments, and so on) it’s in fact mostly about low mood, feeling down, going through “the blues” and has little to do with the true, full-blown, black hole of a living hell which can swallow up your mind and your life.
    With depression, it is precisely the ability to help yourself, in even the smallest way, which is disabled. You just plummet. So the phrase show more “reach out”, repeated here again and again (“…Please reach out if you feel this low…”, “…reaching out if you hit rock bottom…”) reads almost like a deliberate insult. Or there’s this: “The main advice I would give a person suffering from depression? Please keep putting one foot in front of another…” which felt like an actual slap in the face. And there’s this: “A few years ago, a publisher rejected a novel idea that I’d proposed. I’d spent a couple of months writing the beginning in the hopes of whetting their appetite and was very disappointed when I read the news. The good thing is that I was away on holiday when the email came through. My husband, Tom, and I had just arrived in Rome, and Tom was eager to go sightseeing. I told him what had happened, and he gave me a hug, wiped my tears, then listened to me rant for a few minutes. Within half an hour, we went out to St Peter’s as planned. The result? I got over the rejection much more quickly.” Well, that’s all very lovely I’m sure, but what does any of it have to do with depression? True depression is like becoming unplugged from the mains, like being dead while you’re still alive. Once glimpsed, it changes everything, shifts the whole landscape of your beliefs; it’s unforgettable and nothing ever looks quite the same way again.
    So if it’s help with low mood, feeling down, “the blues” you’re looking for, then this book really might be useful and helpful. But not depression. show less

The Other Half is the story of the affair between Chloe and James and the resulting fallout once the wife (Maggie) discovers what has been going on. The story unfolds in alternating chapters told by Chloe and Maggie. Consequently we get to know about James through the eyes of his wife and his lover, which allows the reader to form their own opinion as we take a more dispassionate view of his actions.

Given the subject matter, I was not inclined to be sympathetic towards the guilty parties, show more as I, like I suspect many other female readers, have an uncompromising stance on adultery. As it happens I don’t think that the characters of Chloe and James are particularly likeable, which is a tribute to Sarah Rayners writing. It would have been easier to make the affair the result of some grand passion that could not be ignored, which we might, albeit reluctantly, have been swept along by. As it is, I find Chloe very childish and selfish with very little moral fibre as she acknowledges that James has a wife and child but puts her own desires first. Similarly James seems to easily ignore his responsibilities at home as he seeks to reclaim the excitement of what he once had in his marriage and a previous relationship. While Chloe might convince herself she is in love, to be honest I can’t see how and why as the relationship seems to be defined by sex, of which there is a lot, something which is worth flagging up as it is probably not for the faint hearted.

While our sympathies should lie with the wronged wife, Maggie is not always a particularly warm and sympathetic character, though that still does not justify the affair, because the true innocent in all of this is their son. James, like many adulterers, uses the justification that while he loves his wife, he is not in love. Well welcome to the real world James, relationships develop and deepen and extend beyond the immediate primal desires of sex and attraction, and for the majority of adults that produces a relationship that is worth fighting for if the going occasionally gets a little tough. In reality I suspect that we are looking at a man who for all his maturity is reluctant to accept reality and is more ruled by his libido that his head. He is a weak character and if Chloe wasn’t available I suspect it would have sought someone else.

I’m not sure I can say I enjoyed the book, in the sense that the subject is one I have difficulty with and I found myself getting annoyed with the characters. On several occasions I wanted to shout at both women, who despite their being intelligent, independent women seemed to need James to validate them. On the other hand, it was thought provoking and insightful, and the characters were well drawn and from that viewpoint it was a good read.

I received a free copy of this book via Netgalley in return for an honest review. show less

Anyone who’s ever sat people-watching on the train may well identify with the opening of this novel, which follows a week in the lives of three passengers aboard the 07:44 from Brighton to London, and therein lies much of its charm – it’s about something that could happen to any of us.

Three women, Lou, Anna and Karen, witness the death of one of their fellow commuters, and this deceptively simple tale follows their lives for a week following that incident. It’s not packed with show more murders or magic, instead it is a subtle exploration of love and loss.

The narrative drive comes from the emotions of the characters – Karen, the man’s wife, who has suddenly lost her beloved husband, Anna, her friend, who is forced to question her own relationship, and Lou, a stranger. All three are brought together by this shared experience. The reviews below suggest ‘not enough happens’ in this novel, and if it’s twists and turns and surprises that make you jump you’re after in a plot, this won’t appeal to you.

It’s not a thriller; it’s more for fans of Patrick Gale or Maggie O’Farrell, I’d say, and I found it intimate and thoughtful and above all believable, and which made a refreshing change. It made me laugh, and because some of the scenes with Karen and her small children are especially moving, also and had me reaching for a tissue on more than one occasion. Ultimately, it’s about self-actualisation: learning to be true to who you really are. The Brighton setting is well-drawn too, so for anyone seeking a contemporary novel about rounded and very likeable characters, I suggest putting this warmly realised novel on your reading list. show less

One of the most striking things about this novel was its clarity: the calm, focussed way it was written. Like walking into a minimally furnished room and admiring it because of its clean uncluttered lines.

There is a concentration on feelings, and a determination to delve into harrowing events and tease out the individual atoms that make up human misery. Taking two young children to see their newly dead father in a funeral home. There can’t be too many books with an event like that so high show more on the billing. It was like a woman’s Sunday supplement crossed with Take a Break magazine, but all the time saved from being trashy by the elegance of the writing, and of course the safety of fiction. Individual details were beautifully drawn, from the irritated and bemused
commuters of the opening chapter, to the scene with Lou and her terminally ill father, to the homeless guy and his cottage cheese sandwiches.

Occasionally the slow moving timeline and focus on minute detail became a bit grating: as where a lengthy internal monologue justifying a particular act is subsequently churned out all over again, as the character explains their thought process to a friend. Likewise, we are treated to such depth of conversation that it is not sufficient to hear a visitor being offered red or white wine, we have to hear which one they choose, as well as a follow up question about whether Sauvignon is acceptable. But these were small irritations. I enjoyed this book, and furthermore it’s the first novel I’ve ever read featuring a proper childminder, my own job until a few weeks ago. Top marks for that definitely. show less