Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo

There is a wall that seperates Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport from the neighbouring Annawadi slum in Mumbai. Along the wall are adverts for Italian floor tiles with the corporate slogan 'Beautiful Forever' running it's length. This extraordinary work of narrative non-fiction is about the slum dwellers of Annawadi residing behind the 'Beautiful Forever' wall, hidden and without a voice, until now. This was an undertaking of 3 years that involved documenting conversations and observations, working with translators,  using video and audio tape and verifiying data using over 3000 public records. As such, this book a testament to the value of rigorous research and the skill of a seasoned journalist who not only knows how to handle data, but can tell a ripping yarn too.

The stories of Annawadi residents are played out against a backdrop of the sorry state of the Indian justice system and of the abuse of vital resources that rarely reach those they aim to help. It is utterly hopeless and unbelievable at the same time, and nothing brings this more into focus than when one young girl ingests rat poison as a way out. Behind the Beautiful Forevers is not an easy read, but you will not want to put it down when you start.

The Library Book (published by Profile Books in support of The Reading Agency)

Confession: when I read the press release about The Library Book last year, I approached Profile Books on a whim, hoping they would be interested in including extracts of my Living Library research as an ‘epilogue.’ I knew I was living in la-la-land just clicking the SEND button, but to quote my brilliant mum ‘if you not ask, then you won’t be getting...” I got my quickest rejection to date: 3 minutes for a ‘no thank you and good luck’ (I posted an extract here instead, and found out last month that it got a readership of over 3500). So, when The Library Book finally made it to the shelves of my local library, I couldn’t wait to review it. The library, of course, had to jump through hoops to get it: justify the spend on this book, approve the spend, order it, receive the order, catalogue it, ring me to tell me it’s arrived, put it somewhere for me to pick up. This process took 4 months. Good grief, I could have handmade a copy in that time. But I have it now, and it was worth the wait.

The book consists of memoir, essays and extracts of novels. Many are testimonies to what the libraries have given the authors, whilst others present fictional worlds, or form the backdrop to pivotal events. As with any collection of writing, some contributions are more engaging than others. The standout piece for me was by Bella Bathurst, simply because I recognise so much of what she writes about in the libraries that I visited during my residency. She gathers stories from librarians and patrons (which no other contributor does) to bring the modern public library to life. My other favourites include Zadie Smith, whose account of the library as a ‘gateway’ for her entire family is beautifully written and gathers pace to question the concept of Big Society. Caitlin Moran too provides a similar argument with lightless. Anita Anand and Hardeep Singh Kohli offer engaging insights into the immigrant experience (again, I can relate to this), and Val McDermid’s reliance on libraries as a writer echoes my own. Fictional work by Julian Barnes and Kate Mosse are superb, and Susan Hill’s memory of accidently meeting E.M. Forster and T.S. Elliott is spellbinding (I think I held my breath for the last two paragraphs). Robin Turner’s interview with Nicky Wire of the Manic Street Preachers provides a much needed departure from some of the more clichéd appreciations of libraries (and is tightly written), and Karin Slaughter’s call to action makes for a sharp conclusion.

For all the weightiness of the subject matter, it is a light read. I clearly have my favourites, and there’s enough in this slim volume for you to discover your own. You get the gist, this is a book worth reading.

Book review: Get Her Off The Pitch! by Lynne Truss

For four years, Lynne Truss was a sports writer for The Times. Plucked from her comfort zone of writing theatre reviews, she launched into the worlds of boxing, tennis, golf and football. Navigating each world brought its own particular tensions, and she recalls her experiences with an enthusiasm that eventually ebbed away. As she moves through her four year journey, her exhaustion becomes palpable, and her stoicism against the cold-shouldering of colleagues is admirable. I’m guessing that the temptation to punch the gits who made her life miserable must have been ever-present. It’s a touching tribute to an important part of her life. She says goodbye to this part of her career with a sentiment one would reserve for an ex-boyfriend who was tolerated for too long and turned out to be a pain in the arse. When she leaves sports writing, she is free again.

It is told with humour and she becomes more open about her frustrations as she continues her narrative through the different events she covered. Chapters are peppered with detailed statistics on sporting particulars, and her rants about Alan Shearer and the football fraternity are priceless.

It’s worth picking up this book just to scrutinise the cover photo of Truss with Lineker (that’s Gary, in case you didn’t know). Funny, frank, and a good holiday read.

Book review: The Manual of Detection by Jedediah Berry

Hmmm, I’m not sure about this one. Charles Unwin is a clerk in a detective agency. When a lead investigator goes missing, Unwin finds himself leading the search. He is aided by the Manual of Detection, with the mysterious ‘Chapter 18’ missing and a sprinkling of characters who are clearly moulded from the detective genre. Some are sly and secretive, others are henchman or masterminds. What will our hero do? So far, intriguing. The story shows promise – who doesn’t like a good mystery? – but when Unwin starts to delve into the darker recesses of his surroundings, the story begins to dip, the pace becomes a little choppy, and the hard work put into making the beginning so strong begins to unravel somewhat. That said, the writing deftly weaves the characters’ charming little quirks, and the city they inhabit, into a surreal landscape, and then again into an eerie dreamscape. Better as a novella? Possibly. Odd, surreal and intriguing in equal measure.