14. The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street

By Helene Hanff

Just squeezed in The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street on the last day of April, with a total of six books read in a month - a new record, I think! One of them was a comic and Raising Girls was a parenting book that I'd been reading piecemeal since my daughter was in preschool.

The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street is the follow-up to 84, Charing Cross Road, which had some modest success upon its publication and was shortly bought by a London publisher to distribute in the UK.  This allowed author Helene Hanff to finally visit England after all these years and the sequel is comprised mostly of her journal entries with some correspondence and notes from her various friends, colleagues and contacts.  Like its predecessor, The Duchess of Bloomsbury was utterly charming and a very quick read. The only thing the sequel lacked was the connection between Frank, who died some years ago, and Helene, which anchored the first book.  In comparison, The Duchess of Bloomsbury felt much breezier, but that's not a bad thing.  This one is very much all about Helene!

Sometimes, it's better to read an introduction afterwards as they often reveal too much.  The intro by Plum Sykes is no exception but it does summarize The Duchess of Bloomsbury (and 84 Charing Cross Rd) perfectly:

I couldn’t put this book down for two reasons. One: It is the charming story of a midlife dream realized. Two: Helen Hanff was a completely and utterly neurotic New Yorker—my favorite kind of heroine. Although she eloquently writes that she would go to England “looking for the England of English literature,” the day before she leaves for London she also admits that she is “terrified of going abroad by myself (I am terrified of going to Queens or Brooklyn by myself; I get lost).” That evening, she confesses, “I got out of bed, had hysterics, a martini and two cigarettes, got back in bed, whiled away the rest of the night composing cables saying I wasn’t coming.”
     Helene does make it onto the plane, on June 17, 1971. The American publication of her book had brought with it avalanches of letters from adoring English fans, as well as offers from various correspondents to take care of her if she ever came to London. A former colonel, who had gone to work at Heathrow Airport after retiring from the army, volunteers to escort her through Customs and Immigration; Nora Doel, Frank’s widow, and his daughter, Sheila, insist on meeting her after Customs. A glamorous-sounding Old Etonian called Pat Buckley even offers to show her literary London. (It’s a very sweet idea, isn’t it, that you publish a book and various strangers offer to take you on jaunts in a foreign country. Nowadays, such offers would be met with a jail term for stalking.)

     Helene soon installs herself in the “shabby-genteel” Kenilworth Hotel, located on the corner of Great Russell and Bloomsbury Streets… Her trip starts in a blaze of glory—interviews with the London Evening Standard, the venerable BBC, and photographic sessions at Marks & Co., although it is no longer in business. There are dinners and lunches with her publishers and important journalists. But all that is just background noise for Helene. What she really craves is time to visit with Nora and Sheila, tour literary landmarks, and eat strawberries and cream with Pat Buckley in his Knightsbridge flat.
     Because she finds herself constantly being picked up at her hotel by someone who is intent on taking her off, in a Rolls-Royce or a Jaguar, on yet another thrilling English expedition, Helene soon christens herself the Duchess of Bloomsbury Street. Life is one long stream of excitement for Helene while in London—very different from her spartan existence in New York City.

There's more, but it's best to just read it yourself!

13. Days of the Bagnold Summer

By Joff Winterhart

I remember Olman getting this 2012 comic from his sister or mom for Xmas a few years ago, but didn't think to read it myself.  

 

Fast forward to 2026.  Our 13 yo daughter has been showing strong signs of teenager-dom, to put it mildly.  She's always been a bit moody and sulky as a child, but lately, she's become even more sensitive to things we say or how we say them.  The smallest comment can trigger a storm of emotions. Her moods have been swingier and her sulks, which used to last a couple of days at most, can now last several days, if not weeks.  What's more, she can also be cruel and mean.  It's like she's become an entirely different person, and in many ways, she is, as she's no longer our sweet little daugher, but a teenager with a raging temper (and hormones).  

So the days leading up to my birthday, we were going through one of her sulks where she would shut herself in her room for hours and give short, neutral yet polite responses to our quotidian inquiries. We would provide snacks and drinks by leaving them outside her door, as if she were our prisoner (Olman quickly ran out of prison references for our little shut-in), though she'd emerge to join us at the table for dinner and weekend meals.  It was a challenge trying to remain supportive while our kid seemed to be turning into a hikikomori, though that wasn't quite accurate, as she was still going to school, keeping up with her studies, seeing her friends and going to her regular Kpop dance classes.  She was just a hikkomori with her parents, whom she found embarrassing and exasperating.  It was clear she was going through a phase and trying to assert her own self/space, but my feeling was, did she have to be such a b*tch about it!

Olman and I would quietly talk about our frustrations and this was when he asked if I had read The Days of Bagnold Summer.  Even though it focuses on middle-aged Sue and Daniel, her 15-year-old metal-head son, there were definitely aspects of their awkward relationship that I could relate to!  

"Poor Sue. She knows she is boring. She knows she cannot communicate with her son, who looks to her "like a big, black, sad kangaroo". Her attempts at bonding – listening to his Megadeth CDs in the car, admiring his "poems" (actually, just the lyrics of a Metallica song he has copied out) – always seem to end in disaster." (from a Guardian review)

Sue and Daniel were supposed to be spending the summer apart, with Daniel visiting his father and pregnant stepmother in Florida and Sue in her suburban England home. But the trip got cancelled and what ensued was a series of awkward, embarrassing, hurtful but sometimes funny and poignant moments between mother and son.  Days of the Bagnold Summer was structured over the six week school holiday, one week per chapter.  One over-arching plot was Sue trying to find suitable shoes for Daniel as they were to attend a wedding to be held at the end of summer.  Eventually, Sue and Daniel found a compromise of sorts, which also symbolized a better understanding of each other as they walked towards the ceremony.  

For me, I thought my daughter's self-imposed isolation would never end and that this dark sulky phase of hers would be the new normal for god knows how long until she grows out of it.  Eventually, she did warm to us again, and then something else triggered her and we were back to where this nightmare started.  

 

Now it's the beginning of June as I write this, and once again, our "real" daughter is back.  She's engaging more with us, listening to her Kpop in the common area and practicing her dance moves in our presence.  She still likes to stay inside her room with the door closed, but sometimes, she'll leave the door open!  I'm learning as a parent of a "new" teenager that the real parenting comes with being able to weather out the storms in understanding and positivity!

There's a 2019 film adaptation (directed by one of the actors from The Inbetweeners) which seems to be well-liked.  Maybe it would make a good candidate for family movie night?  

12. Looking Glass Sound

By Catriona Ward 

Looking Glass Sound was another well-written novel by Catriona Ward and also the third book I've read from her (the first being the impressive Rawblood and disappointing The Last House on Needless Street). 

 

I felt a bit cheated by Looking Glass Sound.  I was interested in the book because it was influenced by Stephen King's mysteries set in Maine, but the the meta-fictional nonlinear narrative complexity sidelined me out of a good story. I didn't want to constantly wonder what/who was real and what/who wasn't nor marvel at the writerliness of it all.  Why spend time on something that swallowed up my time with overly-complicated authorial wanking?

So I'm going to cheat myself and use AI to help provide an overview:

Looking Glass Sound is a complex, meta-fictional psychological thriller that explores the blurring lines between memory, reality, and authorship. Narrated by Wilder Harlow, it focuses on a fateful summer in Maine involving an unlikely friendship between three teenagers, a serial killer (the Dagger Man), stolen narratives, and the haunting, constantly questioning what is real versus what is constructed. 

Layered Narrative: The book is designed like a nesting doll, where stories are told and retold, with small differences revealing how memory and stories are altered.

Plot Outline: Wilder is an awkward teen spending the summer at his belated uncle's house in coastal Maine during the 1980s.  He befriends a local boy named Nat and a red-haired British girl named Harper.  For some years now, the town has been haunted by two mysteries: missing women and "The Dagger Man" who breaks into homes during the night to photograph sleeping children with a dagger by their throat and leaving behind a Polaroid, as if to say, I could've easily have killed them while you were asleep. 

Meta-Fiction: The story deals with a writer (Wilder) whose work is stolen and published by another, leading to a blurred reality where he is haunted by the fictional versions of his friends, not the real people. 

Key Themes: The nature of storytelling, the obsession of writing, trauma, and the vulnerability of adolescence. 

The Title: Refers to the deceptive nature of stories and reality, much like a mirror image or sound echoing, distorted, off the water. 

This WeirdLit reddit thread was very helpful in breaking down the structure of the novel. If I ever want to remember what the hell I had read, I should read this thread.

Back to the plot outline.  The novel began as a kind of coming-of-age story with a murder mystery as a backdrop, and with Maine as the setting, it was meant to intentionally invoke 1980s Stephen King. The kids stumble upon the bodies trapped in oil drums underwater and the murderer was revealed about one-quarter into the novel. Nat dies, Harper moves back to England and Wilder becomes haunted by the events of that summer.  In college he works out his trauma by writing about that summer, but his story is stolen by his best friend, Skye aka Pierce Montague.

Summary:

We begin to read excerpts from both the stolen story and Wilder’s version, following Wilder years down the road as he returns to the coast to finally write his book. But Wilder is haunted by, he eventually discovers, the characters from the stolen book— not the real people, but the fictional versions as written by the two writers. The books and reality blur and, the deeper you go, the more you start to wonder what’s real and what’s not. Ward takes you on a twisty-turny journey to reveal how stories capture people— trapping them forever. The mystery of the dagger man is but a thread in the larger narrative— the killer’s identity being revealed and re-revealed over and over again. In the end, everything you thought to be true isn’t, touching on how point of view radically alters reality.

By the time I figured out what was going on with Looking Glass Sound, I began to lose interest in it. Wilder becomes haunted by the characters from Skye's stolen novel. The ghostly drowned woman that Wilder kept seeing, Rebecca, just kept dragging on and on.  Even though Skye/Pierce was supposed to be dead, Wilder found him in a hole when he tried to kill himself with hemlock. Skye had been trapped there for weeks, feeding on raw crab and cave water!!  Skye and Wilder got back together as old men - one blind and the other missing a hand!  I kept going, what the hell am I reading? Then a supposedly "new" character Pearl was introduced about 3/4 into the narrative. By the time it got to Pearl and Harper meeting at Fairview, I just didn't care that much anymore.  I think the novel had made clear that Pearl and Harper were fictional, with the added meta-ness that other characters were made-up by the characters in the novel. Even if Pearl and Harper were the "real" first-level versions and not meta-authorized creations like Skye/Pierce, I had given up being invested in ANY of the characters. Which was ironic since the friendship between Pearl and Harper felt more constructed than the meta-fabricated characters.  It even felt like Ward was getting tired of her own story, as it was more an overly complex exercise than actual storytelling.

So it turned out Wilder and Nat were half brothers?  Harper really did mercy kill Nat?  Gracie is the daughter of Nat and Harper? Whoop-dee-doo. The reveals came too late!  I felt bad because I had been quite invested in Wilder, but his "true" character had died shortly after his story was stolen by Skye/Pearl.  The older Wilder was actually a fictional recreation by Pearl.  He was never able to get any revenge on or justice from Pearl.  Harper was the tragic figure who lost the ones she loved and the only one who could right some wrongs.  In the end she had her daughter Gracie and they manage to get some kind of reckoning from Pearl.

Back to the reddit thread:  

"But why would that be the case, and why has Ward chosen to write such a confusing book? The theme of narrative ownership and true crime has come up a lot in recent years: The Plot ( Jean Hanff Korelitz) concerns a professor who steals one of his grad students' novel ideas, a decision that comes to enrich and destroy him. In I Have Some Questions for You (Rebecca Makkai) boarding school students re-open the murder case of their teacher's long-ago roommate, while a true-crime podcaster does the same. Trust Exercise (Susan Choi) is a layered puzzle-box of a novel that is about a high school drama class, truth-telling, and feeling your way around in the dark. And then there's the real-life controversies that have rocked the world of letters: a plagiarism allegation lobbed at My Dark Vanessa; the real story behind "Cat Person;" and who could forget the saga of the Bad Art Friend?

Writers are all thieves of a kind, but personal testimony was recently a very powerful kind of currency—subject to counterfeit—and the true crime boom still goes on. We're in the midst of two simultaneous national conversations about authorship (who gets to tell what kind of story) and trauma. Authors are grappling with it in real time."

So I get what Ward was trying to do with Looking Glass Sound.  But did it capture the zeitgeist?  It probably did - I can see how many would consider it brilliant.  However, the meta-fiction genre isn't my jam - I want to lose myself in a narrative, not get confused by it.  I did enjoy parts of it, especially the first act as it had some great fiction writing; lots of lovely passages about the sea, air and land.  The meta parts reminded me so much of House of Leaves and David Mitchell's work.  Talented writers often have the ambition of tackling meta-fiction, but there's always the danger of being burdened by textual slog as the human interest parts of the story get buried under the ambitions of the author to create narrative feats of complexity.  

I acquired this hardcover from https://bookoutlet.ca for only $8 and will be including it in my trade pile when I visit Encore Books on my birthday!

11. Raising Girls

By Steve Biddulph

 

10. The Tokyo Zodiac Murders

By Soji Shimada

Tokyo Zodiac Murders began with a confessional journal entry from the supposed killer.  Heikichi Umezawa was an artist obsessed with astrology/alchemy/the occult and making Japan great again, and he was able to combine his two passions by bringing forth the goddess Azoth. He thought the best way to go about it was to sacrifice his six daughters and nieces and use their "best" body parts to form his demented masterpiece!  

Ooookay then. I was somewhat put off as I thought Tokyo Zodiac Murders would be a straightforward locked room murder mystery without involving incestuous crimes or deviant sexual behaviour.  After Grotesque, I wasn't exactly keen on reading more transgressive fiction about aberrant desires and women being victims of sexual violence. But whatever, my already disturbed mind can handle it.

But after that first chapter, the narrative shifted to two men in present day Tokyo (c.1979) trying to solve this cold case from the 1930s:  Kazumi Ishioka, a freelance illustrator and avid mystery fan, and his friend, astrologer Kiyoshi Mitarai.

There were three murders to solve: the locked room mystery of Heikichi Umezawa (who was murdered in his studio), his eldest daughter Kazue (who was murdered in her home), and the six Umesawa women (whose bodies were found in various locations in Japan over the course of a year).

I've read enough mysteries to not devote too much mental energy to figuring out who the real murderer was because the author controls how the information is revealed to the reader.  Towards the end though, I was surprised to discover that author Soji Shimada broke the fourth wall by addressing the reader. It was clever and cute, and I instantly regretted not paying more attention while reading!  I could only assure myself that in order for someone like yours truly to solve the case, I would've had to take additional time to pore over the details that were provided.  In hindsight, all the clues were indeed there, but you had to review everything and it would've been more fun if a friend had been reading the book at the same time so that we could compare notes.  However, I did at some point deduce enough to hazard a guess... major spoilers ahead!

It was after Detective Takegoshi's letter of confession that I deduced that the murderer was likely a woman, after all.  This was why the suspect had to force a policeman to help bury the bodies. Not only would a woman not have been physically capable of disposing the bodies in the remote locations, one of the amateur detectives had stated women weren't allowed to have driver's licenses back then.  I had also assumed Kazue was probably coerced into having sex with him and was killed afterwards, since semen was found inside her when in fact, she had been killed prior to that.  I had also thought the killer must've been one of the daughters, but then I was stymied by the fact that all six bodies had been found.  I didn't make the leap that their bodies might have been incorrectly identified, since this was long before DNA testing was possible. The bodies had also been cut up and each body was only discovered over the course of a year, so some of the bodies were already in an advanced state of decomposition.

So there was very good reason for the novel to begin with the deranged confession of the supposed murderer.  The first chapter was the red herring, and I fell for it!  I also appreciated Tokiko's backstory (she was Heikichi's first daughter from his first marriage).  What if Cinderella decided she was done with being a doormat and took out her evil stepmother and stepsisters?  Tokiko was a vengeful Cinderella yet also a tragic figure, because the person she was doing this for, her mother, still ended up lonely and sad.  She also lost out on time spent with her mother while she was making her elaborate plans.

One highlight from the novel: a reference to the real 1936 murder case involving Sada Abe, a geisha and prostitute who strangled her lover to death and was carrying his severed gentialia in her kimono when she was found by police. 

Note: I found this secondhand copy of Tokyo Zodiac Murders at Walen Pond Books, Oakland.  This book was also in Olman's list, which reminds me - I should pass this onto him.

9. The Lottery and Other Short Stories

By Shirley Jackson