If you are a regular reader of my blog then you may well know that Toni Morrison is one of my favourite writers.  I own all of her books (in matching white editions): I cherish her books; I ration them out.  To date I have read six of Morrison’s nine novels and now Love may very well be my new favourite (Beloved is a masterpiece but I was very pleasantly left in awe by Love).  You may also know that my edition of Love is one of my all-time beloved possessions; my boyfriend gave me the newly published hardback on our first Christmas together and wrote a touching inscription inside.  What you may not know is that I LOVED Love.

I read along with three favourite bloggers, Claire of Kiss a Cloud, Steph of Steph and Tony Investigate and Nymeth of Things Mean a Lot; you can read their eloquent views by clicking on their blog links. One of the things I love most about co-reading is when each individual focuses on different aspects of the novel and their personal connection to it.  Conclusively, we all embraced this novel; personally, I loved it with every fibre of my being.

Am I alone in gaining great satisfaction -and butterflies in my tummy- when different strands of narrative come together so perfectly in the last third of quarter or fifth of a novel? So completely and utterly perfect do things slot into place at the end of Love that I sighed with contentment and joy; the resolution, the unveiling of secrets, the realisation that the title is more apt than first believed… all cemented how much I adored this novel.

I savoured Morrison’s lush prose, her beautiful imagery and succinct expressions; I have always known that Morrison was an exceptionally talented writer but her writing is exquisite in Love, often making me gasp. The storyline and themes are every bit as powerful as I have come to expect; the plot itself is simplistic but there are so many threads woven in and out of the text to make it an impressive tapestry of characterisation and universal thematic appeal.  Even though Love is, to date, Morrison’s penultimate novel, I think it is a very good one to start with, especially for those readers intimidated by Morrison; not quite as devastating as her other novels, Love does have one scene of exceptionally uncomfortable violence (a gang rape) and a couple of disconcerting relationships, but I cannot stress enough how much Toni Morrison’s writing is worth the -at times- dark subject matter.

Love has a sometimes confusing non-linear narrative with multiple narrators but it is so expertly crafted.  The Cosey women were and are all obsessed with Bill Cosey; their love is obsessive, all-consuming and the root of a lifetime of jealousies, resentments and hurt.  Cosey is dead and only appears in the novel through reminiscences, all showing him in a different -and sometimes unfavourable- light.  Heed (the Night) and Christine are the surviving Cosey women, living together in acrimony, each feeling betrayed by the other from childhood; their relationship is the crux of the novel.  Hurt, betrayal and the power of memory -and its unreliability and subjectivity- are what makes Love so emotionally-charged and moving.  Evocative and emotional, Love has me reaching for the three unread Morrison novels on my shelf; I want to gorge myself on them instead of ration and then reread them over and over again.

Many thanks to my lovely co-reviewers.

The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver (published by Faber) has won the 2010 Orange Prize for Fiction.  Have you read it?  I have a copy on hand to read but haven’t managed to yet; truth be told, I was uninspired by the shortlist this year and some of the remaining longlisted titles were calling to me louder than any of those that made the cut.  I started off with enthusiasm -if some bemusement- when the longlist was announced and intended to read as many as I could but it wasn’t to be and I soon lost interest; I was supposed to attend the Orange shortlist readings last night but decided to stay home instead as none of the titles really appealed as much as a bottle of wine and a DVD did… Congratulations to Barbara Kingsolver nonetheless and one of these days I will read the winning novel along with The Poisonwood Bible that has been languishing on the shelf for years.

Commiserations to Evie Wyld who lost out in the Award for New Writers; I haven’t read the winning The Boy Next Door by Irene Sabatini but if it is of equal or higher calibre to After the Fire, A Still Small Voice then it is one to add to the to-be-read pile (which also includes the third nominated title, The Book of Fires by Jane Borodale).

There you have it, the oranges have been squeezed and pulped for this year.

The Easter Parade by Richard Yates is a book that I requested from my library some time ago but I had to wait for a couple of others to read it first.  Rachel of Book Snob made this lesser-known Yates novel sound so appealing earlier this year and I’m looking forward to a sunny afternoon to curl up with it.

Comfort Woman by Nora Okja Keller was an inadvertent recommendation.  Whilst recommending previously-nominated Orange Prize titles to (cardigan girl) Verity for her Orange Wednesday feature, I came across Nora Okja Keller’s Fox Girl on a past longlist; the title appealed and I purchased a second-hand copy but I also did some online research into her earlier novel, Comfort Woman, (also longlisted for the prize) and came across this review by Kim of Reading Matters. An account of Korean women used as sex-slaves by Japanese troops during World War II sounded fascinating and an endorsement by Kim did wonders to convince me to read it.

Speaking of wonders, In Other Rooms, Other Wonders by Daniyal Mueenuddin was a book that caught my attention through its eye-catching yellow paperback design in a bookshop.  Some later research and favourable reviews suggested that I would enjoy it and I borrowed it -in hardback- from the stacks the next time I made a visit to the library.

Bone 2: The Great Cow Race is the next installment in Jeff Smith’s acclaimed graphic novel series; I enjoyed the first volume during the read-a-thon and this is the follow-up (the first ended quite abruptly and I suspect that the series would be better read in the complete volumes, which my library does not stock).

Lark and Termite by Jayne Anne Phillips was receiving some buzz the day of the Pulitzer Prize announcement (which it didn’t win); I hadn’t heard anything about it, was intrigued and then more so when I read this review by Jill of Fizzy Thoughts on the same day.  Serendipity assured that I picked up a copy of this to read.

Have you read any of these or looking forward to me doing so first?

Library Loot is a weekly event co-hosted by Eva and Marg encouraging library use and its promotion.

]]> http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/06/07/library-loot-the-unpredictable/feed/ 15 http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/05/15/recent-acquisitions-12/ http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/05/15/recent-acquisitions-12/#comments Sat, 15 May 2010 10:30:40 +0000 Paperback Reader http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/?p=2362 This latest installment of recent acquisitions actually filtered in book by book a few weeks ago but I haven’t had a chance to post about them until now.  These all happen to be review copies sent my publishers but I do have some purchases to share soon.

Alice from Bloomsbury sent me a copy of Paper Towns by John Green, which was only published in the UK this week (it was published in the US in 2008).  Nymeth has raved about it and when she raves about a book, I pay attention; I read this at the beginning of this week and will share my thoughts soon.

Katherine from Harper Press sent me The Book of Fires by Jane Borodale.  This book has been nominated for this year’s Orange Award for New Writers and sounds completely riveting; I am planning to immerse myself in this soon.

Polly from Sceptre sent me Sunnyside by Glen David Gold; I haven’t read Carter Beats the Devil but look forward to reading a fictional account of Charlie Chaplin.

Sophie from Virago sent me the latest re-issued Elizabeth Taylor novel, The Soul of Kindness.  To date, I actually haven’t read any Taylor but this may be the one I start with as the synopsis really appeals.

Gemma from Faber sent me both Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot (I’ve been coveting this book for so long!) and A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore.  The Moore has been shortlisted for the 2010 Orange Prize for Fiction; I’ve fallen behind in my prize reading for this but would like to read this before I attend the shortlist readings earlier next month (if anyone would like to go to this then please let me know as I have a spare ticket).

Have you read any of these?

I have family visiting this weekend and a family event so I’ll probably be a.w.o.l.

]]> http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/05/15/recent-acquisitions-12/feed/ 27 http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/04/19/recent-acquisitions-11/ http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/04/19/recent-acquisitions-11/#comments Mon, 19 Apr 2010 13:57:37 +0000 Paperback Reader http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/?p=2045 Last week I shared with you my birthday loot, either those I received or subsequently bought, and this week my recent acquisitions are courtesy of two generous publishers.  I have received a few more books in the interim but don’t you think these books complement each other very well with their blues and blacks?

The week before last I was lucky enough to attend a delightful afternoon of (lychee) cocktails and (bookish) chat hosted by the generous people of Sceptre for bloggers and new writers.  A surprise goody bag offered proof copies of new books and -photographed above- copies of The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet by David Mitchell and Mr Rosenblum’s List by Natasha Solomons; the former already has a lot of Booker speculation surrounding it and the latter sounds like just the type of delightful book that I will adore (at the time of writing this, I am about to curl up with it, hoping it will be all and everything I hope it to be).

I was also the lucky recipient of some books from Faber & Faber publishers.  The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver and The Wilding by Maria McCann are both on the longlist for the Orange Prize for Fiction but I had been wanting to read them independently of that anyway.  I am making my way through the Orange longlist slowly and have reviews to post once Angela Carter month (and then possibly Persephone Reading Week) have come to a close.

Faber also kindly sent me the second volume of Marina Carr plays, which I have been anticipating for some time.  Marina Carr is an Irish playwright whose plays are often absurdist and heavily-influenced by myth (particularly Greek) and I enjoy both reading and seeing them performed.  Recently I have been very much seeking to incorporate reading drama and theatre back into my life so this volume couldn’t have arrived at a better time.  Moreover, I also have a copy of the new play by Irish writer Sebastian Barry, Anderson’s English, about an unexpected visit Hans Christian Andersen makes to the home of Charles Dickens.

Do any of these appeal to you or are you waiting to hear more about them from me or elsewhere?

It’s clichéd but The Help by Kathryn Stockett is an unputdownable book: I was immersed in the story and despite all the books that I read it is still rare for a book to captivate me so fully that I can think of nothing else but read the book.  I was a little averse to reading The Help because of the hype surrounding it but the thing with hype is that it is gererally justified, as it was in this case.  By no means is the novel flawless but it is a good, engaging story that I enthusiastically recommend.

Stockett set The Help in her native Mississippi during racial segregation and the Civil Rights Movement.  Telling the stories of three women of small-town Jackson in 1962, Stockett examines racial tensions and behaviours in the domestic sphere.  Aibileen and Minny are both black maids working in white households and, in Aibileen’s case, raising white children, whilst Skeeter is a twenty-two year old white woman who has returned from college to find that the maid who raised her, Constantine, has been sacked by her mother, left Jackson, and nobody will tell her why; together the women, at Skeeter’s instigation, write an exposé of domestic help and the relationships between mistresses and maids.

No book with race as its subject can ever be comprehensive but what The Help achieves is a balance between bad and good experiences of the maids and, moreover, it is done with compassion.  As a native Mississippian, from Jackson itself, Stockett does not portray her home-city as one where racism is endemic nor non-existent but objectively shows that it is not a case of black vs. white but that there are many shades of grey.  Of course, an exposé, especially a fictional one, cannot delve deeply enough to cover a multitude of experience, nor satisfy a reader hungry for a meaty overview, but the maids’ stories are multi-faceted and do highlight the positive as well as the negative.  Skeeter’s story comes across as semi-autobiographical, with Stockett’s writing and magazine publishing experience; furthermore, Stockett was raised by her own African- American domestic help in the absence of her own mother.  Stockett’s own experiences as a child and inhabitant of Jackson, Mississippi, obviously influenced her and The Help is an exploration of issues that she grew up with.  The Help is not high literature and nor is it necessarily a prize-winning, novel (it is longlisted for this year’s Orange Prize) but is a book whose mains characters I grew fond of and one that will remain with me.  One of my favourite novels and one that famously deals with race, is To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee; Stockett is no Lee and The Help no Mockingbird but there are echoes of the classic text in the modern one with Skeeter at one stage comparing herself to Boo Radley.

The Help is narrated from the perspectives of Aibileen, Minny and Skeeter in alternating sections; the narratives are distinctive and Aibileen and Minny came to life for me, Skeeter less so.  The Ebonics employed for Aibileen and Minny made their voices credible and they were exceptionally well-characterised; Aibileen is strong, dignified and has literary aspirations whilst Minny is sassy, memorable and a fighter.  Minny talks back and stands up for herself and I loved her as a character; Aibileen is more likeable and sympathetic but Minny is the most vividly realised character that I have met on a page in some time.  I found Skeeter more two-dimesional and irritatingly naïve at times; she seemed to only became consciously aware of the prejudice that surrounded her once her surrogate mother Constantine vanished for her life, at which point she was personally affected.  I though that the clandestine writing of the book, albeit commendable, was self-serving on Skeeter’s part, at least to begin with, and it was only towards the end of the project (and the novel) that she realised its significance and the dangerous implications for everyone involved.  Ultimately I found the the undertaking somewhat idealistic as opposed to plausible; the consequences were at once dissatisfying and disproportionate to the suspense created throughout the novel and apparently the consequences that Stockett herself has faced in the telling of these domestic help stories, with members of her own family no longer speaking to her, were harsher than those faced in an unstable Mississippi in the 1960s.  However, I can recover from my disappointment in the ending as the remainder of the book was thoroughly enjoyable; I was satisfied by characters being rewarded with what they deserved.

The support cast in The Help were strong creations and were exposed for their ignorance, prejudices and naïveté.  Skeeter belongs to a privileged society and Aibileen and Minny are in service to households belonging to Skeeter’s peers. Hilly and Elizabeth (Aibileen’s boss), Jackson socialites, are friends of Skeeter from childhood and it was surprising that Skeeter was not more discerning in who she socialised with, although she was less passive to her surroundings as the novel progressed.  The Help is mainly a book about women and how women exhibit their racism as opposed to the violent racial attacks commited by men.  It is frustrating in its portrayals of the racist attitudes of these women, particularly Hilly who is an odious character; Hilly’s unpleasant nature is even more loathsome because she acts from a place of privilege, convinced that in her ignorance she is helping her family, friends and even the help e.g. in her campaign for segregated toilets within households for sanitation.  What I considered insidious was that nobody surrounding Hilly ever challenged her and that is most frustrating with the treatment of racists, when nobody actively educates them and calls them on their actions.  The only person to stand up to Hilly was Minny -in a key event central to the plot- and then later Skeeter, Aibileen and the other contributing maids.  Hilly was very much a symbol of the accepted status quo; by writing the book and braving her wrath and her possible revenge on the small-scale, the main characters were standing up against what was wrong in society.  Where Minny was one of the more favourably memorable characters from literature that I have come across recently, Hilly will be remembered for her sheer ugliness; what Minny did to Hilly, which is revealed later in the book and acts as their “insurance”, was most definitely Hilly’s just desserts.

The Help enthralled me, it enraged me, it entertained me; a mixture of laughter and tears, this is such an enjoyable read.

The following quotes are taken from each of the individual narratives:

I put the iron down real slow, feel that bitter seed grow in my chest, the one planted after Treelore died.  My face grows hot, my tongue twitchy.  I don’t know what to say to her.  All I know is, I ain’t saying it.  And I know she ain’t saying what she want a say either and it’s a strange thing happening here cause nobody saying nothing and we still managing to have us a conversation.

I nodded that I understood.  I was just smart enough to realize she meant white people.  And even though I still felt miserable, and knew that I was, most likely, ugly, it was the first time she ever talked to me like I was something besides my mother’s white child.  All my life I’d been told what to to believe about politics, coloreds, being a girl.  But with Constantine’s thumb pressed in my hand, I realized I actually had a choice in what I could believe.

And I know there are plenty of other “colored” things that I could do besides telling my stories or going to Shirley Boon’s meetings-the mass meetings in town, the marches in Birmingham, the voting rallies upstate.  But truth is, I don’t care that much about voting.  I don’t care about eating at a counter with white people.  What I care about is, if in ten years, a white lady will call my girls dirty and accuse them of stealing the silver.

The Very Thought of You by Rosie Alison: described as a haunting coming-of-age story and a love story with the backdrop of evacuation in England on the brink of WWII, this is a novel that appealed from reading through the longlist. The historical setting I am familiar with although I doubt it will be a comforting read but one that is emotionally-charged.

The Twisted Heart by Rebecca Gowers: with its literary mystery premise and Oxford setting, is one of the titles that instantly grabbed my attention.  The reviews of this one haven’t been so glowing but I am attempting to go into the Orange titles as blind as possible, without preconceived ideas.

This is How by M.J. Hyland: again, this is where I think knowing less is better and have been advised not to even read the synopsis of this one as it contains spoilers.  I am, however, glad to know that it is “emotionally devastating” and setting it aside for a sunny day!

The White Woman and the Green Bicycle by Monique Roffey: I know even less about this title than the one above.  My library had a copy and I decided to go with it.  The fun thing about prize longlists is that they introduce you to books that may have otherwise passed you by and this may very well be one of them.

Have you read any of these or are you planning on reading titles from the Orange longlist?

Library Loot is a weekly event co-hosted by Eva and Marg encouraging library use and its promotion.

*I realise that this post does not fit in with my Angela Carter month but I am conscious of 1) overwhelming you with my gushing over my favourite author 2) alienating those readers not interested in Angela Carter 3) falling behind on my other book-related post material.  I am aiming for a balance between Angela Carter and non-Carter related posts this month.

]]> http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/04/07/library-loot-the-longlisted/feed/ 17 http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/03/27/recent-acquisitions-9/ http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/03/27/recent-acquisitions-9/#comments Sat, 27 Mar 2010 17:01:50 +0000 Paperback Reader http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/?p=1842

When I arrived home from London earlier this week I was greeted to a number of book parcels, which cheered me some after a dreadful train (well, six trains) journey and five-hour delay due to signal failure on the west-coast and and then a smashed car window awaiting us. There are a couple more proof copies and early birthday books that aren’t photographed but the latter will hopefully have others to join it in a few days…

The proof copies that are featured were unexpectedly sent to me by Sceptre and Windmill books, respectively; the first is the much-anticipated new novel by David Mitchell, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, and the other is Jasper Jones by Craig Silvey, which has been receiving some very favourable whispers in the book world.

Victoria from Virago (Abacus is another imprint of Little, Brown) offered to send me a copy of Hearts and Minds by Amanda Craig after reading my response to the Orange longlist; this is one of the shortlisted titles that I am most looking forward to reading and whilst I was in Glasgow Verity text me to inform me that it is “AMAZING”.  Now I am conflicted whether to read it before the other Orange title that I am desperate to read: The Still Point by Amy Sackville… which do you suggest I read first?

Virago also sent me a copy of Wilderness Tips by Margaret Atwood after I won it in one of the Twitter competitions they regularly hold. This is a collection of some of Atwood’s short stories and one of the few books of hers that I didn’t own.

I was also the delighted recipient of the Man Booker-winning The Conservationist by Nadine Gordimer from Bloomsbury; I have been wanting to read more Gordimer since reading July’s People earlier this month.

Contests to win a signed copy of Solar by Ian McEwan have been hosted by a few bloggers recently and I was the lucky winner from Simon of Stuck-in-a-Book.  The premise of the novel doesn’t appeal to me all that much but I have a feeling that it’s going to continue to be discussed this year and I’d like to be privy to the content!

I am not a fan of posts that are simply means to show off books that bloggers have been sent by publishers and I realise that this one is quite abundant with books that I have received directly from publishers… if it’s any consolation, I caved and bought The Still Point and Don’t Tell Alfred by Nancy Mitford (in the cute edition that some of you are and aren’t as fond of as I am) as I was keen to read both.

Have you acquired and/or read any of these?

Anyway, on to bookish things and a miscellany that is again end-of-week as opposed to midweek.  How do people feel about annotating books? I tend not to like it; I can understand the convenience of it but if I am taking note of a passage from a book then I tend to take notes.  I use my mobile phone, notebook, macbook, whatever is to hand to record my thoughts and couldn’t even tell you where the closest pencil to me was let alone use it to deface a book … because that’s the thing: if I were to write in a book then it would only be in pencil and it would be a little word here and there or minuscule writing in a a corner.  I do have a few working copies of books but they are ones I used academically and even then it felt inherently wrong to mark a book; I do have to profess my love for fluorescent bible pencils though, which I used to highlight lines and paragraphs, and which make a very convenient (not to mention aesthetically pleasing) study aid.

Bibliophiles’ love or loathing for scribbled annotations is not a new subject matter but I wanted to mention something that I noticed in a library book this week.  On the inscription page someone (a previous borrower) had written (in pencil, I am relieved to inform you) that there was a historical inaccuracy on page 89; on page 89 there was an arrow leading from the erroneous information -at 4 o’clock the narrator announced he was leaving work early as he fancied a drink then proceeded to the closest pub- and an explanation that in 1960s London, where the novel is set, pubs were closed in the afternoon (there was additional times and geographical information but I’m giving you the jist). I was stunned to discover these pencilled notes; I’ve come across a lot of additional commentary before in borrowed books, especially from my university library, but it never fails to shock me how people treat public property.  I think that writing in a library book (or any book that doesn’t belong to you – what you do with your own books is up to you) is graffiti; I wonder whether this same reader who is aware of public house opening times in the 1960s would be so keen to point out mistakes in writing on a road sign or pile of newspapers for sale at the tube station.

Am I overreacting?  This is a book that was only published last year and yet now I balk at reading something that isn’t fresh, that is stained in a way, let alone something that somebody else is pointing out the lack of veracity in. Bloggers occasionally point out mistakes that authors have made, mistakes easily made, and we do that publicly so is it also fair to point out a discrepancy to future readers on the book?  I felt condescended to and mostly I wondered “what does it matter?” but then I thought upon it some more and I do expect as a reader, for the most part, for a writer to be historically accurate (I write “for the most part” because the writer could be creating their own world, timeline or reality); I read primarily for entertainment but I also read for education and trust a writer as I would a teacher, therefore being given inaccurate information is unacceptable, is it not? The specifics of the inaccuracy itself has no bearing on my thoughts -it does not enrich my life knowing or not knowing the opening times of drinking establishments in 1960s London- but I would hope that writers were capable of doing their research; in this case I think that it is an honest oversight and, as I said, is meaningless as it doesn’t detract from the story in any way, but I worry that now instead of learning something new from a book, I now learn something that I have to then verify as true because I can’t trust the writer to have their facts straight… all this from one fellow reader who had the audacity to point out the historical inaccuracy in a book on the book itself.

Over the last week there has been a number of posts about the Orange Prize for Fiction longlist for 2010 and subsequent reactions to it and relevant reviews; one fellow book blogger asked on Twitter whether she was the one who hadn’t written about it, which amused me.  I was, however, one of the guilty but I love the Orange Prize; I love women’s writing and I view the prize as a means of discovering writers and books that otherwise may have escaped my notice.  I am enjoying the surrounding buzz, hype, and posts devoted to the prize and plan on contributing where I can; in particular I am enjoying the Reading the Orange Prize updates from Kirsty of Other Stories; the digested criticism from The Omnivore; the close-up detail of the longlist at Eve’s Alexandria.  I am also very excited by Verity’s new blog feature, Orange Wednesdays; I look forward to following Verity’s progress (she is one for ventures, isn’t she?!) and I am most envious of such a wonderful title for a regular blog slot.

The longlist for the 2010 Orange Prize for Fiction has been announced and I am delighted/dismayed/disconcerted (delete where appropriate) that 1) I only managed to predict 5/20 of the titles on the list 2) I have read 3.5 (I’m in the middle of The Help) of those included. Perhaps the apparent unpredictability of it is a good thing as it means there are some wonderful books to discover? Dismayed is an instant reaction but that is more due to the lack of familiarity and the realisation that I have only read/heard of a small portion of the books already.  I am delighted to see Hearts and Minds by Amanda Craig on the list as I’ve been meaning to read that since Nicola Beauman of Persephone Books recommended it to me and I have been intrigued by The Wilding by Maria McCann; the others I know little or nothing about and look forward to researching them and seeing what my library has available.  I am devastated that After the Fire, a Still Small Voice by Evie Wyld didn’t make the cut as I was certain it was going to win! My other prediction of a place on the list (in my reviews of this year), The Rehearsal by Eleanor Catton did make it and my current read, White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi, which I was sure from the opening pages would be on the longlist, sadly didn’t.  Margaret Atwood’s The Year of the Flood is missing also, which comes as a surprise to me, although there are some other big name authors both absent and present; immediately my reaction is that there is a nice mix of established and debut novelists featured (there are seven first novels on the list).

Last year I had read one of the longlist before it was announced (A Mercy by Toni Morrison); read another upon its inclusion on the list and Bloomsbury issuing a celebratory e-text of it (Burnt Shadows by Kamila Shamsie); read a third as the prize was awarded, one that made it to the shortlist, was given rave reviews, later made it to the Booker longlist (The Wilderness by Samantha Harvey). Pre-blogging I never tackled an entire longlist but did attempt a few Orange shortlists along the way (in 2007 and 2006 I managed three and four books respectively, including the winners above).  This year I hope to read the shortlist and whichever other titles catch my interest but I’ll make more of an informed decision in the coming days/weeks once I’ve read more about the books themselves.

This is a short and singularly-focused Claire’s Corner this week as it is past my bed-time and I have a busy day ahead tomorrow; I wanted to share my immediate response to the Orange Prize 2010 nomines in cosy and comfortable surroundings.  What are you impressions of this year’s contenders?