Two Gents Productions - Taming of the Shrew

It’s been a while since I’ve seen a show and actually wanted to rush home and write the review immediately – hence a recent lack of posts. But tonight things changed. I almost didn’t get my bum off the sofa and make it to the White Bear pub/theatre to see the Two Gents play Taming of the Shrew. Boy, I’m glad I did.

The Two Gents (for tonight) were literally made up of two actors, one is, in fact, a gent, and one is a woman – Isaac and Dilek. These two are backed by what they describe as a ‘cross cultural touring company’ – you could see from the audience alone the tight bonds within this small group, I recognised a number of the spectators from the backstage pictures on their website.

So how do you perform a play with a 21 strong character list with just two cast members? To find out the answer, you really need to see the Two Gents performing for yourself, but I’ll try to give a bit of a taster. Isaac and Dilek entered the small performance room in plain clothes, bucket in hand, and laid out housekeeping rules and information about the performance to come to the sound of Isaac’s drumming beat on the bucket. This immediately introduced a sense of total ease and comfort – if a line was forgotten or a wrong character trait was used it was laughed off rather than awkwardly covered up, a much more comfortable informal theatre experience in my book.

We were told each character would have their own characteristic to differentiate and make quick transitions clearer – I was dubious about how easy this was going to be to follow. Well, this may sound impossible, but each character was well developed and recognisable. This was potentially down to the camaraderie that both actors kept up with the audience. Taming has a lot of scenes with a lot of characters in them, this was tackled uniquely by targeting specific audience members to fill in the physical absence of more actors – and, with a little bit of imagination on our part, it worked every time.

A word on the Kate and Petruchio storyline. This was particularly important to me as I have recently been reading a lot of feminist criticism on domestic violence in the play. Critics such as Emily Detner have suggested that the play should be taken seriously in today’s society as it dramatically undermines mental manipulation and domestic abuse that effects so many women. I was therefore unsure about seeing the play performed so comically as this production was clearly going to be. Maybe my expectations of the actors were too low, but I was surprised with how well they dealt with it. Dilek played Petruchio and Isaac played Katherina. At first Kate was a butch, aggressive…..shrew? but her (or his should I say?) development into a silent, solemn-faced coward-in-the-corner was truly realistic. Petruchio’s superficial offer of food before refusing to allow a starving Kate to eat without thanking him was a seriously chilling moment in the midst of  all the comedy.

From the flawless switching of characters between each other, to the imagination of props and setting, the chemistry between Isaac and Dilek was perfection. Their relationship drew the audience into a very interactive theatre experience. Admittedly, they nearly lost me at the end with the final speeches, but everyone was fully brought back to life with an updated version of the old-school Shakespearean jig, complete with beat drumming and hip swaying. I will certainly be following this innovative theatre group in all their future endeavours.

Take a look at their next set of dates here

The Comedy of Errors at The Globe

Oh unhappy day, the Globe outdoor season has come to an end. But, to be honest, looking out of the window right now is not inspiring me to purchase a ticket to stand shivering under the clouds with rain dripping off my nose. Not even to watch the hilarious adaptation of Shakespeare’s The Comedy of Errors again. Although, now I think of it, watching the Dromios run and trip their way across a minefield of puddles clothed in sopping robes would potentially add even MORE hilarity to the unrelenting slapstick scenes. If that’s possible.

The ‘ante-show’ was utterly delightful, with Dromio of Ephesus (Jamie Wilkes) trying anything and everything to get that last item of laundry down from the washing line pinned high above the stage. This was a play in which I really appreciated the choreography, and no more than at this point. Dromio’s uncertainty and wobbly movements were such that the whole audience gasped when he fell from the top rung of a ladder. Having got in the mood for the light-hearted physical comedy that was to come, the first scene was, I have to say, a slight disappointment. The Comedy of Errors isn’t a play you go to see for its plotline by any accounts, but Egeon’s explanation of the happenings before the play are crucial to understanding the sets of twins situation – the foundation on which the entire play rests. For me, James Laurenson’s portrayal didn’t quite match up to the emotional, heartbroken old man I had imagined. The speech seemed rather dry, and at times I couldn’t even hear it, meaning that a few audience members looked unsurprisingly lost once he had finished. I did appreciate the image of a lonely widower who has lost all hope, but felt the speech really needed to be amped up to provide more of a setting for the rest of the play.

From then on in, the audience spent two hours ranging from quiet titters to raucous roaring consistently. From the word go, there was no let up from the slapstick scenes, with props being utilised here there and everywhere. There was the oversized fish used for slapping people around the face, the octopus being thrown all around the stage, and of course the turkey with which one of the Dromios spent the majority of a scene with his head in. Every stage direction and every aspect was amped up to its fullest – the witchdoctor scene was a particular highlight, complete with a magical feast for the eyes and ears.

Each cast member was a comic genius in their own right. I found Adriana, played by Hattie Ladbury, specialised in subtle asides and sarcastic improvisations to put her own stamp on the role of neglected wife. Becci Gemmill, meanwhile, played the perfect princess Luciana, balancing innocence with jealous sisterly rivalry to a tee. Out of the four main men, I really couldn’t pick out my favourite twin from each set. Despite knowing the story, I had to double check which Antipholus/Dromio had entered the stage each time, even if they didn’t look absolutely identical, they had sure learnt how to act it. Antipholus of Ephesus (Matthew Needham) was certainly the angrier twin, really mincing the physical scenes for all they were worth, whilst the connection between Dromio and Antipholus of Syracuse seemed that little bit realer (Brodie Ross and Simon Harrison respectively).

Throughout the play, I was looking forward to the end. No, I was by no means desperate for the performance to finish, but I was desperate to witness the reunion of the brothers. To be honest, I was expecting it to be 100% comical. It certainly was comical, as with every other scene in the play, but there was an extremely emotional and touching element to the closing scene, which was unexpected. The two Dromios were the ones who really stole the show in the end, with the final moments given to their brotherly reunion. A mixture of embarrassed bashfulness with social awkwardness and subdued excitement, the two really captured what the situation might actually be like to be reunited with a twin sibling decades later – totally bizarre and stultifying. Once the Dromios finally made their way off-stage, hand in hand, the audience erupted into emotive cheers and applause. A perfectly unanticipated touching ending to an evening of genuine confusion and genuine laughter.

Julius Caesar at The Globe

I have officially started my MA at King’s College and The Globe in Shakespeare Studies. This is exciting for a number of reasons. Firstly, living in London for the first time! Ok, maybe it’s dawned on me that this is less exciting and more terrifying and daunting compared to what now seems teeny tiny lovely Brighton. I’m just about getting to grips with it…I think. But something that has not become any less exciting is going to The Globe every day! Also being able to geek out with all the other geeking outers on the course who don’t bat an eyelid at a little (a lot) geeking out. Our first outing as a group was to see The Globe’s production of Julius Caesar.

Yawn yawn, Julius Caesar, it’s only redeeming feature is the much quoted and surprisingly useful ‘et tu brute?’. Apart from that it’s just boring men boring the rest of us with their boring man issues. Right? WRONG. As may or may not be obvious by now, I have a soft spot for Shakespeare. But we all have those plays we think the world could do without. Probably doesn’t help that I studied the play at the tender age of 13 and all I remember is a rather quaint cartoon (the creepy over-realistic kind, rather than the fun cute kind) of the play being put in front of us perhaps in the vain hope of engaging us. Well, I could now go back and tell my Year 9 teacher that if they’d taken us to see THIS production every single one of us would be JC fanatics to this day.

Before everyone had even taken their seats or picked the perfect standing position, there were plebeians and townsmen ramming a box through the audience, mounting it and chanting ‘CAESAR CAESAR’, forcing us to join in. We were no longer 21^st century audience members dubiously waiting for one of the plays widely acknowledged as LESS exciting than some others, oh no. We were members of the Roman public, part of the mob, pawns in a political crisis, screaming the name of whoever had taken our fancy that day. But more on the mob later.

Caesar (George Irving) emerged. The very first thing that struck me was his humour! Of all things, Caesar was a joker. Maybe an inadvertent, over-cocky and over-assured joker, but a joker nonetheless. After the original spectacle of Caesar’s first scene, complete with a lifesize cow swinging from the ceiling, among other things, my stars of the show came on for their first scene. Brutus and Cassius, often imagined by me as middle-aged men desperate with jealousy, instead materialised as rather dishy socialist heroes (insert cheer here). OK the heroes bit is up for debate, but I think that loaded phrase really encapsulates the political element that makes this play SO exciting – especially the fact that it totally resonates with today’s world. Marc Antony (Luke Thompson) stole the end of the first half, subtly sarcastic lines such as ‘I am no orator as Brutus’ and ‘I only speak right on’ jumped out of his manipulative tone. I felt they could have been said by any Tom Dick or Harry, or maybe Ed, Nick or Dave…the mobilisation of the electric mob mentality that was charging round the entire playhouse momentarily took over from the specificities of the Caesar plot and exploited the vulnerable malleability of people’s opinion through speech alone.

I want to briefly return to Brutus, played by Tom McKay, as this Brutus does now hold a special place in my heart. My first impression was that the actor was a little uneasy and slightly static. But then I realised, he was being such a realistic Brutus that I had almost missed it! Brutus’ internal anguish and indecision was so perfectly epitomised in the tone of every single word he spoke, every movement he made, and every expression of the eyes (I’ll give that as my reason for why I couldn’t stop staring at them). It was because of this close attention to each detail that the exact moment where Brutus switches from hesitant senate member to ring-leading conspirator was so palpable. The relationship between Brutus and Cassius (Anthony Howell) was so emotional that people around me were shedding a tear. Theirs became a love story and it worked perfectly. By the end, when Brutus reveals his wife’s death, and the ghost of Caesar comes to him (spoiler: Caesar dies), his development comes full circle: he returns to the first Brutus we met, full of courage and dignity but hopelessly conscience haunted and pragmatic.

So as not to ramble on TOO much, I have just a few more concise highlights I feel I must mention. The use of music was something I haven’t experienced too much in the theatre before, and the mix between Latin singing and more contemporary, unusual tunes added a trauma and emotion to the traditional bloody murder scenes – a great juxtaposition of spectacle and sombre mood. In particular, the harp song which Lucius plays in the second half as Brutus paces his tent cemented this as my favourite scene by far. The jig at the end was also a new experience for me, I just loved that no matter the mood at the close of the play (spoiler alert #2: it doesn’t end well), everyone breaks into a jolly, energetic dance together to end the show – so uplifiting!

One final thing – tiny details are something I love to seek out in any performance, and Decius’ slow, subtle peeling of a tangerine in the night conspiratorial scene had me in (albeit inappropriate) stitches.

PS DON’T MISS the twist at the end. Pure interpretative gold. Ok I’m done.

It’s on until 11^th October so DO get tickets here! 

See You Tomorrow - Tore Renberg

Coined as a ‘genre defying novel’, See You Tomorrow by Tore Renberg fulfils its undefinable reputation. Don’t be intimidated by the thickness of the book, it is 600 pages of intense emotion and excitement. Written through the eyes of different characters in each chapter, the novel manages to maintain pace and a page-turning aspect the whole way through – something I was surprised about for such a long book. Starting with Pal, a father of two who needs help with his desperate, inescapable secret, the story linking each first-person character gradually unfolds. I found the staggered character introduction very motivating throughout as each time we met someone knew I hoped they would reappear in the next chapter as the protagonist speaker – usually they did.

The constant switching of perspective seems in theory potentially overly complex and confusing. In reality, however, it totally worked and really showed off Tore Renberg’s talent as such a diverse writer. Each character had their own distinctive voice, to the point where you could recognise who was speaking without the chapter title specification. Obviously, I had my own favourites and less favoured characters – I loved Cecile’s personal story and learning her tragic history. And that really is the beauty of the book: whilst there is the main plot line running through each chapter, every character also has their own personal story slowly developing throughout their own chapters. So even if you don’t love the particular character of a certain chapter, the plot will keep you reading through, and as the characters reveal more about themselves, so too does the overarching story become ever clearer.

Something that I wasn’t expecting to be so noticeable in the novel was the description of and preoccupation with the Norwegian landscape. The partners in crime, Rudi and Jan Inge, who provide much of the psychological thrill, are paired by their obsessive personalities: Jani for running an orderly business and horror films, Rudi for his girlfriend Cecile and his grandmother. Rudi’s monologues are saturated with memories of the landscape of his childhood, truly immersing the reader in the world of the characters and the culture in which they have been created. Renberg has previously been quoted as suggesting there is not much difference between Norwegian and UK culture. Whilst I agree that I was able to relate to and recognise a lot of the focal issues which the novel is preoccupied with, small touches which reveal the unique setting of the novel really brought it to life for me – to the point where I was visually dreaming about it!

As I said before, the transition from perspective to perspective was consistently flawless, each character was so well developed and recognisable – I believe this was certainly in part due to the realism of the language Renberg writes in. As a translated text, credit is of course due to the translator, Sean Kinsella – it is thanks to both him and Renberg that the dialogue and streams of consciousness were so natural and realistic, and therefore believable. This no-frills no-fuss approach made way for a totally raw and unadulterated depiction of each character. Whilst there is a fair amount of swearing and crude language, it never came across as crudity for the sake of crudity as it so often can in novels. Instead, it just became another integral part of the text as a way for us to further get to know the characters and their minds. As well as sex and swearing, the novel deals with some pretty heavy violence, both mentally and physically. I loved that Renberg neither hammed the violence up too much nor shied away from portraying it as brutally as it may be. This fact also led to the darkly comic aspect of the book – just as life has its horrific scenes, there is often a comical edge to everything we do, Renberg beautifully explores this fact simply through maintaining a strong sense of realism throughout.

See You Tomorrow is wonderfully intricate and multi-faceted in both its character development and plot development. I won’t lie, it’s not a question-answering novel, it is most definitely a question-asking novel. The beauty of it is explained in the title: purely focusing on a condensed period of three days, we only see what happens in those days and are left hopelessly (and frantically!) guessing what happens next, as well as what happened before. Frustrating it may be, but I dare you not to fully invest yourself in each character and find yourself caring about even the seemingly most despicable ones.

Read it now! Buy it here

Creation Theatre's Macbeth

Despite a rather hectic summer, I recently had a rather exciting development in my reviewer/writer endeavours. I became an official reviewer for Daily Info. For those non-Oxford dwellers, Daily Info (www.dailyinfo.co.uk) is the one-stop website for all things Oxford - whether you're looking for a job, a babysitter, or a vegetarian Middle Eastern restaurant on a budget, it's the best place for quick advice. Although I haven't had nearly as much time to review for them as I would have liked, when Macbeth produced by Creation Theatre was advertised, I jumped at it. I've been a long-time supporter of this Oxford based theatre company and have been to countless great performances put on by them, from Much Ado about Nothing to A Christmas Carol. One of the things I love most about them is their innovation and passion about the spaces in which they perform. The plays are often outdoors in parks and gardens, one of my favourite experiences has to be watching Antony and Cleopatra on the amphitheatre-style roof of the Said Business School - so authentic! As you'll see in the review, the use of setting and space was once again outstanding in Macbeth.

As a reviewer attending the first night performance, I didn't know what to expect. I took my little notebook (and my mum) along and we were both overly excited when I was presented with a badge and guided into a room with refreshments and lots of important looking people! We were treated to an introductory talk from the lovely Lucy Askew who has my dream job (chief and executive producer) before being led out to the gardens of Lady Margaret Hall which had been transformed into a murderous banquet scene. My review had to be short and concise, but I just want to emphasise again what I really think is Creation Theatre's biggest strength: their relationship with and focus on the audience as participants in the play. After all, that is what the roots of theatre have always been about.

Disclaimer: I had to write this review THE NIGHT of performance and so my comments are completely first impression based. As is always the way with literature and theatre, most concepts need a while to sink in and take shape, that's the point of them. Whilst I still stand by what I've written, the interpretation became a real thinker for me and I have come to more fully appreciate the artistic experimentation of the production.

"An ambitious and successful production, if a slightly problematic interpretation. Creation Theatre’s latest venture reimagines Shakespeare’s Macbeth in the setting of a military sanatorium, acted out in the gardens of Lady Margaret Hall. The experimental use of the setting was certainly one of the highlights: Macbeth, Lady Macbeth et al bounded manically in and out of the surrounding building, shouting out from various windows and bellowing down from the roof observatory. The audience were seated around round tables, much like being at a sinister wedding-cum-massacre, which the cast often marched through, hiding in the shadows and creating that increasing feeling of insecurity which so fits with Macbeth.

The ‘weird sisters’ were effectively disposed of, in their place were women with cloths covering their faces and men wearing gas masks. This worked well with the updating of the play into a war-time England, but I felt that the medieval plot itself could never quite fully be reconciled with the setting of a hospital full of wounded, shell-shocked soldiers. This was in part rectified in the second half, in which the hospital setting became a lot clearer and more interesting. In the end, I decided the interpretation worked well when viewing each character individually as a soldier obsessed with the war going on around him and the tyranny and murder dictating the world.

The first half ended with Banquo’s murder, a wonderful scene which really was a taste of better things to come. The playing out of murders and violence was a real highlight – the characters stood about two metres apart enacting the infliction and reaction, never actually touching each other - a technique that was far more effective and harrowing. The encroaching darkness undoubtedly highlighted the creepy horror story effect that the production was striving for and the actors really came into their own in the second half – well worth waiting for! Although Lady Macbeth wasn’t the best portrayal I’ve seen, the sexual tension between her and Macbeth (Scott Ainslie) was amped up to perfection – there was real chemistry between the actors. The cast was small, which meant a lot of doubling up – quite a difficult feat in a play with such a large cast. However, it did work for the most part, thanks to the diverse skills of the actors – Simon Spencer-Hyde was particularly good in his transition from Banquo to Macduff, the shift was flawless to the point that I wasn’t immediately aware it was the same actor.

All in all, the interpretation needed a lot of thinking about in order to get to grips with it. I wanted it to be a more dramatic reworking, either in making itself more obvious through props and direction, or, preferably, through cutting certain scenes and speeches which became somewhat obsolete within the new context. That said, the production and acting talent made for a thoroughly enjoyable evening. The effort in preparation and dramatic design cannot be faulted. The use of location, props and sound was perfectly balanced with the necessity for audience imagination – an eerie and memorable evening for children and adults alike."

Go and see it now! Grab your tickets here

Typhoon - Qaisra Shahraz

This review is rather overdue. I actually finished the book almost two months ago now, but the fact that I can still remember every character and thread of the story is pure testament to Qaisra Shahraz’s talent as a storyteller and novelist. This is my second review (and second book I’ve read) on this author, the first one being Revolt. Having enjoyed that one so much, I happily received this one in yet another package from the generous people at Arcadia Books. The books aren’t technically part of an ongoing series, but I really loved the feel of familiarity I experienced between the two. The stories remain separate and always totally unpredictable, but the themes Qaisra tackles are always similar.

In my review of Revolt I discussed the wide range of settings and locations the book spans which manages to effect a sense of universality whilst maintaining a focus on the personal lives of the characters. What I found equally engaging in Typhoon was the use of time. The main body of the book only spans a little over 24 hours; it is framed by a narrative set 20 years later, in the present day. The constant sense of retrospect keeps the novel fast paced and exciting, I was always referring back to the first part to try to fit pieces of the puzzle together and reconcile the characters (basically guess the ending!). However, the slow speed at which time moves in the main part of the novel juxtaposes this rapidness, creating a build-up of suspense and allowing the reader to accumulate a mountain of questions. As well as this, I constantly had to remind myself that all this action was happening in just one day. Whilst it is split between characters so it does not seem unrealistic in any way, I believe it is still a difficult feat to keep the reader focussed on such a short space of time for so many pages. I seriously admire Qaisra’s achievement in doing this.

So as not to ruin it, all I’ll say is that the book is centred around three women who all share a burden or shame that they experienced 20 years ago and that has impacted their lives ever since. What I really love about Qaisra’s writing is her ability to introduce and explain issues mostly unknown to women in the Western world of law, religion, shame and duty, whilst simultaneously showing that this is not what wholly dictates life in places such as Pakistan. Books such as Revolt and Typhoon convey that issues of love, jealousy, loss and desire are completely universal and cannot be ignored, even in the face of such ancient values. Not a single character in the novel lacks a sympathetic side, the village as a whole are constantly forging the battle between religious laws that their society is built on and more modern developments and ways of living that they are desperate to keep up with. Some feel they are able to move on, some just cannot accept modern life: it is who falls into which category which keeps the momentum of the story going and creates an emotional and exciting experience for the reader.

Read it now! Get it here

The Unfinished Symphony of You and Me - Lucy Robinson

As is evident from my review of the first Lucy Robinson book I read, beginning this one was an immense undertaking. I needed to clear my Filofax, switch off my phone, and warn all friends and family members that I would be unattainable for the next few days.

OK, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, but Lucy’s books are SO addictive I just knew I’d be dying to read all day every day once I’d started. And I was right. Unfortunately I went on holiday to Florence soon after I started the book (woe is me), but I still somehow managed, in between all the sightseeing and vino guzzling and pizza gorging, to be weeping on the plane home as I reached the last page.

So yes, you could say I had high expectations. I’m a big fan of Lucy’s writing, and regularly visit her blog. Her writing is effortlessly compelling – the perfect balance of subtle wit, and outright hilarity. Luckily, she also knows how to spin a pretty great story, resulting in an amazing novelistic combination. She creates female heroines who are realistic, relatable, un-perfect, and totally imaginable. Unfinished Symphony follows this trend with the introverted Sally Howlett. We join her journey in the present day as she embarks reluctantly (to put it lightly) on the first term of Royal College of Music, all the while getting little snippets of the past few years and childhood of her life as we try to fit the pieces together. I really loved the non-linear structure of the book, it made it even more addictive! Whilst I was in the present scenes I was desperate to learn more about the past leading up to it, but when I was in the past I just wanted to know what was happening back in the present! It also works as an extremely clever and effective technique of making the whole thing entirely unpredictable. Unlike the majority of chick flick reads, the contrasting image of characters as positive or negative in each section of the book made trying to guess the ending impossible.

The majority of the reviews and taglines of the book mention its comedy, hilarity, laugh-out-loud factor etc. This is of course a crucial part of Lucy’s writing, and often hilariously subtle, although the huge emphasis on comedy seemed a bit misleading. What really struck me about the book were not the comic tones, but the more tragic ones. Whilst on the surface remaining a fun-filled romance story, underneath this book really touches upon grave and difficult subjects in an unexpected way. I found Lucy’s subtle treatment of grief, self-confidence, and familial ties very real and very moving. Yes, the book is about opera, and fits its over-dramatic, in-your-face mould, but the constant more serious undercurrents often caught me unawares and made me see both the book, and my own feelings and thoughts, in a new way.

Just writing this post makes me gutted I’ve finished the book, I always say (and probably did say for my last Lucy Robinson review) when you miss the characters once a book has finished, you know it was a good one! I’d love all her books to come to life but I just know nothing would do the characters she creates – the dreamy men, the clumsy heroines, the best friends that always go slightly too far – justice. Whenever picking up one of Lucy’s books, I know there’s the guarantee of all the traits of her writing and imagination, but I also know I’m in for a truly unique and unpredictable read with each different book. I will admit I loved this one a fraction more than the last one, but I think that’s down to pure personal preference and experience. I experienced this book in a very personal way and it has really made me admire Lucy’s writing in a new way. I can’t wait to see what she has in store next!

Read it now! Get it here

Honestly Healthy for Life - Natasha Corrett and Vicki Edgson

The ‘greedy’ half of this blog has somewhat fallen off since it started (a year ago!) – now the title just brings up an image of me physically devouring book after book which is strange and slightly harrowing for most. I’m keen to get the food section back on track as I am a massive food lover, and what better way to re-introduce it than with a combination of my two favourite things? Food AND books!

Now, I’ll be honest, I’m not a big cook. My boyfriend is one of those annoying people who just ‘knows’ what flavours go together and any random concoction of his is some sort of masterpiece. I, on the other hand, need meticulous planning and preparation time (we’re talking over a week) for one meal, and even then there is no guarantee of success – the uncooked-potatoes-burnt-onions-runny-egg Spanish ‘tortilla’ explosion is one of my personal highlights. However, this year I decided to really attempt this whole cooking thing and master culinary greatness (I’m nearly there I promise…). Soup seems to have become my speciality, minimal presentation required and just chucking everything in a blender suits me. However, the Honestly Healthy for Life book is a rare gem that has really got me interested in cooking – and it has soup!

‘Honestly Healthy’ is the creation of Natasha Corrett and Vicki Edgson – the first book was published in 2012, closely followed by a fridge fill service, and this second book. The books promote living an Alkaline lifestyle. In short, eating alkaline foods restores the natural ph of your blood therefore reducing common ailments such as bloating, indigestion, inability to lose weight etc. This is all explained very eloquently and clearly in the first section of the book, and one of the things I love is that this isn’t just a cook book, it’s a book book! It’s well written and informative and I really enjoyed learning more about my own body and the food I put into it. Natasha is a self-taught chef, and the alkaline journey began for her as it will for everybody: through realisation and research. This personal experience really comes through in both the explanations and the recipes of the book – there is literally a healthy alternative to any food in here – it’s magical!

As I said earlier, even when trying to follow a recipe, I seem to take a wrong turning and end up with a lentil-crusted pan and a traumatised oven. What I find great about this book is the chart of acid to alkaline foods at the front. It is extremely extensive, and means that if you can’t get hold of or don’t like an ingredient, you can easily find a swap for it – rigid doomed recipes are a thing of the past! It also makes it so easy to follow the alkaline lifestyle day-to-day, just knowing which foods are at which end of the chart has made me so much more aware of what goes into my body and how it makes me feel. To be honest, I personally didn’t find it that hard to mostly eat alkaline foods. Most acidic foods are meat and dairy and, already being a vegetarian, I didn’t feel I was missing out on too much. The alkaline part is very logical, it basically consists of vegetables, herbs and spices, all things I already loved cooking with and eating. Some things were harder to substitute: I am a cheese fiend, and I love my carbs. However, the book suggests such great alternatives, some of my favourite staples now include goat’s cheese, agave syrup and buckwheat (or other gluten free products).

I’ll admit I don’t follow this lifestyle 100% of the time, I still like a massive pizza, some chocolate, and a glass (bottle) of wine once in a while – but it’s nice to know this book is there to refresh me and my body the next day. Here are some of my favourite recipes from the new book to whet your appetite:

‘My Favourite Granola’

I’ve always loved granola, but ever since someone said to me ‘it’s just eating broken up biscuits with milk’ it’s been slightly tainted. This version is all natural, and nowadays I find it 10 times more delicious than the overly sugary ones you buy in supermarkets. This is guaranteed to make me in a good mood even on the earliest of mornings.

‘Green Love Smoothie’

I have ALWAYS been sceptical of the whole green smoothie craze. Green and lumpy? Ew. However, I spotted this one’s main ingredient was mango – the love of my life that is mango. I’m not a parsley fan so swap it for some extra spinach (see what I said about the swapping?). Its slightly unappetising appearance is totally made up for in refreshing taste.

‘Raw Green Curry with Courgette Noodles’

Ok Ok, I actually left this one to the boyfriend – I was just trying to avert any disasters! This is probably my favourite recipe out of the whole book. Not only is it super easy, the sauce is so fresh and crunchy – perfect for a summer evening. Moreover, since trying these courgette noodles I haven’t looked back. Even Angus, who is NOT a fan of health fads, loves these and admits they fill him up just as much as pasta. Amazing!

‘Moses’s Nutella’

I am a recovering Nutella addict (see picture). Having realised I was getting through large tubs (the REALLY large ones you can only find in selected supermarkets) about once a week with only my teaspoon as a companion, I forced myself to give it up. Until now. I’ve tweaked this recipe a little, and am still perfecting my own favourite version, but waking up to guilt-free Nutella on toast again is something I will not be getting over quickly.

‘Fennel and Leek Soup’

Yay for soup! I’m aware that a lot of people don’t love fennel, but it’s one of my absolute favourites so I was gleeful to read that it is one of the best veg for reducing bloating and water retention, something I (and most people in the world) suffer from. This soup is so thick and creamy it’s hard to believe it’s purely vegetables – I’m itching to go and make another batch just writing this.

So that concludes my (somewhat extensive) review of Honestly Healthy For Life, but I really feel this book deserves the recognition, and I wanted to share it with as many people as possible so they too can uncover this foodie-lover’s revelation.

Read it now! Buy it here.

Visit their website for extra info and recipes here

Tash is also very helpful and responsive on Twitter, which I love! @HonestlyHealthy

Top 5 Books from my Degree

I’m ashamed. Over the past six months the blog has taken the backest of the back seats possible in my priorities. Who knew final term of third year would be so time-consuming? Now that I’ve finished my degree (sob) I’m going through a slight mourning period – hence this post. Looking back on my degree, I feel so lucky that there hasn’t been a single minute I haven’t enjoyed. True, I haven’t loved (or read) every single text on the course – trying to plough my way through abstract concepts of history and time at one am the day of the seminar definitely made me realise I am not an inhabitant of the philosophical literature camp. However, every single thing I have read and studied has taught me something, and further ignited my passion.

To pay homage to the past three years I’ve compiled a list of the five best novels I have been introduced to and read throughout my degree. This was hard – there are just so many! At heart, I’m an early modern Shakespeare kinda gal (that doesn’t sound nerdy at all) but I don’t want to neglect the huge range of literature and culture that I might never have discovered if it wasn’t for my time at Sussex.

The God of Small Things – Arundhati Roy

I’ve mentioned this book before in my previous posts, usually with regards to the exotic Indian culture it introduced me to. The book was written in 1997 – significantly 50 years after India gained independence from the British Empire (in 1947). The fact that the novel won the Booker Prize perhaps points to the fact that this is a novel aimed at and written for the West, yet drenched in Indian culture and tradition. Although Roy was accused of trivialising the political struggles in India at the time, such as the rise of Communism, the domestication of these issues only further proves the gulf that is still so prevalent between Indian culture and the West. Mammaji’s obsession with the television and the culture of soap operas, for instance, is skilfully juxtaposed with her unwavering loyalty to ancient Indian traditions of caste and class – a point of contention which the entire text pivots around.

However, the emphasis lies in the title itself – this book is about the small things as impacted by the wider world. The family relationships are genuine and tangible and the questions of love – ‘where does the love go?’ ‘what are the laws of love?’ ‘can you love too much?’ -  draw the non-linear plot together around the twins Estha and Rahel. A novel combining culture differentiation, archaic traditions, and human relationships, The God of Small Things maintains an emotional connection with any reader whilst providing an exciting exoticism.

Read it now! Get it here

       The Golden Notebook – Doris Lessing

I encountered this book right at the other end of my degree, in fact only a few months ago. Not to sound corny, but I do feel that this book changed my life, and I annoyingly harp on about it to literally everyone. I can’t help it – I just can’t see how someone could read it and not feel an alteration in their thinking and living. This is the first (hopefully of many) books I’ve read by Doris Lessing, but from reading her introduction to the book (and watching a video of her casually dismissing being awarded the Nobel Prize) she seems like a pretty great lady. In the introduction, Lessing goes to great lengths to dismiss all the things critics have suggested the book is about (feminism, communism, racism, fascism). However, whilst for Lessing this book is ‘about’ none of these things, for me it is about ALL of them.

Revolving around the life of writer Anna Wulf, the novel is split into sections: the ‘true’ novel Free Women, and then Anna’s notebooks: Red, Yellow, Blue and Black. Finally, there is the Golden Notebook. It’s hard to discuss the book briefly, there is just SO MUCH to say on it. But it is also an intensely personal reading experience – Lessing’s philosophy is firm: the reader gets out what he or she is searching for. So I’ll leave you to get out of it what you will and interpret in your own way. What I will say is that it’s the most informative piece of fiction I’ve ever read and I’m still working my way through all the political, sexual and psychological contexts in which the text is written. This novel is a masterpiece – yes it is a heavy read and yes it is long, but it is also necessary and relevant. I will never stop avidly (forcibly…) recommending The Golden Notebook to people.

Read it now! Get it here

       Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov

I read this for a course on satire in literature which, I have to say, wasn’t my favourite course. I loved the satirical traditions of the ancient worlds, but the modern satires ultimately revolving around sex and brutal violence weren’t for me. It was potentially discussing these in a room full of men as one of the only women which put me off. However, as part of the course I did read a book I never would otherwise have picked up: Lolita.

The novel has so many different textures and layers, just thinking about it makes me want to go back and read it again. It’s one of those books that I think you have to read multiple times in order to get the most enjoyment out of it. Known today as one of the infamous ‘Banned Books’ people can still get a little shamefaced talking about it. The story is of self-concious, loner Humbert, who falls in love with young verging-on-pubescent Lolita. Nabokov’s genius really comes in as the tables begin to turn as Lolita becomes the manipulative villain and Humbert the blithering idiot victim. The reader asks themselves ‘how can his love be a crime?’. It is only when we step back out of Humbert’s own narration that we can see the situation with fresh eyes. Nabokov’s manipulation of characters and distortion of right and wrong is what sticks in the mind once the novel is over, it is a novel which throws up more questions than it answers, begging to be read over and over.

Read it now! Get it here

       New Grub Street – George Gissing

Bit of a different one here – but I do love my Victorian novels. Gissing is a bit different from more conventional Victorian writers such as Austen or Hardy, his stance wavers between traditionalism set out by earlier writers and experimental modernism that would be taken up by writers such as Joyce. As well as testing out new fictional styles and novel forms, Gissing takes up fascinating questions of growing capitalism, industrialisation, and economic pressure within his own context – questions which were adopted by political writers such as Orwell and Wells much later.

The novel follows the lives of a number of different aspiring and established writers in an ever-expanding London. In true realist fashion, Gissing creates each character around a set of values and social constructs, forcing them to partake in a survival of the fittest style competition. Gissing shows how the life of a writer is all encompassing – from the physical manifestations of writers’ block, to the crippling restrictions of age and gender. Coupling this with the metatextuality imposed by Gissing’s own writing and critical background, New Grub Street is one of the best representations of the impact of capitalism on the world of literature and culture of its time, and has resonated with each generation since.

Read it now! Get it here

       Gulliver’s Travels – Jonathan Swift

As the saying goes… ‘an oldie but a goodie’. My sister is appalled I’m including this in the list, but I just love this book! (and most of Swift’s other work). I’ve studied it a few times over the years and each time I find something new to laugh at, it’s just such a good piece of satirical fiction. I won’t say much on this one as it’s very well known – people probably know it best for the Land of the Lilliputs. But even the less known sections, such as the world of the Houyhnhnms, are enthralling and so enlightening. Swift’s not-so-subtle digs at humankind and the physicality of the body are not only hilarious, but also say a lot about the controversial nature of his writing and views on society. One of the earliest examples of social satire – this one is a classic and a must-read.

Read it now! Get it here

Zenith Hotel - Oscar Coop-Phane

Recently I was lucky enough to be featured on the back cover of Arcadia's brand spanking new release Zenith Hotel. They sent me the mini-novel with the task of writing an 140 character review for twitter - I felt so modern. And now my quote is on the back of the book itself (which is published today), so exciting! So I thought it was time to write a proper review to truly honour this snapshot of literary brilliance

In my tweet review I called the story 'raw and unashamedly honest'. It follows the days of Nanou, a French street prostitute, her perspective is disjointed by the stories of her various (and very varying) clients. There is no sensationalising or glamorising in this novel, it is as purely frank as I could imagine an account of this way of life could be. What especially struck me was the base, simplistic details of each of Nanou's clients' lives that Coop-Phane tells us. The mundanity, instead of making the stories tedious and boring, increases the candid realism of the novel. Nothing is left out, and similarly nothing is unnecessarily added in. So many novels concerning abuse or prostitution are saturated in an over-exaggeration of sexual language and images, and disturbing details, I find they take away from the story and characters in their quest to shock the reader.

Zenith Hotel completely avoids this trap and Coop-Phane handles such a dark theme through making it the backdrop for the stories, but not letting it dictate the entire novel. Instead, he uses the prostitution to blacken the tone of each story and exploit the desperation and isolation of the characters' lives.

Inspired by this overarching quality in the book, I called it a 'flash of the unity of loneliness within the crowd of humanity' - this came out of the way the characters were so contrasting - from ex-con to caretaker to frustrated husband - and yet all linked through the extreme loneliness that drives them to Nanou. Her service becomes less sexual and more emotional - if only for a few minutes. Through this, the choice of each character becomes random, they are each a chance cross-section of humanity, through their own detachment from it they convey it in all its terrifying immensity.

In my opinion, a review of a somewhat minimalist book should itself be no more than minimal. Coop-Phane leaves the book open to the reader, not to judge, but not interpret, and I can guarantee you will be interpreting it over and over again for days after you've finished it.

Read it now: Get it here (and look out for my quote under @laraegood!)

Catch-Up Reviews

Call me naive, but I was NOT expecting this term to get so hectic. Final year final term, I probably should've guessed....I've been so busy with various birthdays and events, let alone writing and handing in the PENULTIMATE essay of my degree, I literally haven't had a spare second to attend to my poor blog.

Luckily, my reading week is coming up so I'm hoping to get some precious *leisurely* reading time in, as well as catching up on a few posts about some delicious new recipes and restaurants I've tried. But, for now, I have a quick flash review of two books that I've finally managed to finish in the past week!

Lettice and Victoria - Susanna Johnston

First up, another book I was generously sent by the wonderful Arcadia Books. I begged them for a copy after seeing various online reviews heralding it as a hilarious black comedy - the title really gives nothing away and I didn't know what to expect. It was unclear (for me, anyway) exactly when the novel is set - although there are enough references to authors such as Henry James, not to mention the fixation on the English Manners tradition, to place  it in the early 20th century. Coincidentally, I began reading it as I was writing an essay on Evelyn Waugh, so the incessant mockery of the shallow 'manners' of English society along with the unlikeability of almost every character was really highlighted for me, and placed Johnston within this literary satirical tradition.

Loosely, we follow Victoria, a young woman starting off as a live-in 'amanuensis' to an old, blind man of letters in an isolated house in Italy. I say loosely because the perspective of narration often changes - sometimes we get Victoria, sometimes Lettice - her competitive mother-in-law - and often more minor characters, merely for a sentence or two. The story indeed follows Victoria, but each new character becomes an accessory to whatever part of her life they appear in, nothing more. Although this begins to beg the question: to what end are these accessories a means? The novel is one of the most fast paced I've read, spanning almost an entire lifetime in 166 pages, mostly consisting of short sentences and dialogue. This achieves a certain nihilism in the plot itself - the characters could be anyone, the story could detail anything, the true point of this novel seemed to be an unrelenting mockery of the 'keeping up appearances' tradition to the point of utmost stupidity and ridiculousness. Lettice is the main vehicle of this, Victoria the onlooker, unwillingly caught up. 

I realised I wasn't reading on because I cared dramatically about any of the characters, but  to find out how they would get out of each new problematic situation whilst maintaining the all-encompassing necessity for manners that dictates each of their lives. Johnson has achieved a novel that left me laughing still after the last word, loving the simultaneous implausibility and plausibility of the whole thing.

Just Kids - Patti Smith

Now onto a book that couldn't be more opposite. I'm not going to write a huge amount on this, when I've read a book and finished thinking 'this person is a true genius' I don't feel I can justify actually 'reviewing' them myself - it just feels a bit egotistical.

I picked this book up randomly on sale in HMV one day - I'd of course heard of Patti Smith, I'd heard some of her music and her spoken poetry, but I wanted to know more.

This book documents the story of her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe alongside the growth of both of their careers - and it is truly beautiful. Although autobiographical, the book could easily pass for fiction in the style it's written - each sentence conjures an image of the creative passion of the author without any of the pretentious tone you might find in a fictional work. For me it was this writing that paid perfect tribute to both Patti and Robert's talent.

This is a love story about every kind of love: sexual love, romantic love, artistic love, passionate love, and ultimately the love of friendship and companionship, without which neither Robert or Patti would've achieved the fame or artistic acclaim they have today. One of the truest memoirs I have read, this is not a completely gritty, glorifying account of the rock and roll lifestyle, it's ultimately a tribute to the relationship between two people - the unabashed honesty makes it often sad, often funny, always fascinating. 

A must read for any fan of Patti Smith or Robert Mapplethorpe, incredible in the way it opens up both of their work to a new light and level of enjoyment and emotion, but also an incredibly moving, beautiful story of the strength of love and creative connection between two people.

Robert Mapplethorpe - Self-portrait 1972

Paris Requiem - Lisa Appignanesi

It would be an understatement to say it’s been a busy couple of months. What with all the Christmas preparation (I have infinite family members to buy presents for), family festivities, reuniting with friends, and the not-so-teeny task of dissertation writing and exam revision it’s been easy to neglect the blog. But I’ve managed to not neglect my reading so much, and it’s been a real treat having Lisa Appignanesi’s Paris Requiem to cuddle up with each night at the end of a cold, hectic (but fun!) day.

Paris Requiem is not a short novel. At about 500 pages it’s not a quick, or easy, read. For me it was happily a slow burner, the thing I dedicated the reading part of my mind to for a good six weeks. I would challenge anyone to read this book in much less time, it is extremely demanding both in the complex twists and turns of the storyline, and in the descriptive language. I found it hard to read more than two chapters in one sitting, and I needed at least 24 hours to let all the information and drama that each chapter is saturated with sink in and settle in my mind. Looking back on the experience of reading the book, I think the length of each chapter allows Appignanesi to indulge in both a richly gripping detective story and a lyricism of language and engulfing description of Paris, two things which crime writers often choose between, usually letting the latter go in favour of a shorter, more accessible storyline. To me, having read Paris Requiem, this is a regrettable error on the part of other writers, and the combination of the two is a testament to the author’s dedication to an all-encompassing tale that demands not just dramatic events and exciting dialogue, but a conjured up image of Paris which entirely envelops and transports the reader to the period and location of the novel. Understanding one could not be possible without the other, which is what made this so much more than a ‘psychological thriller’ for me.

Yet another novel that’s near impossible to write a brief summary of, but I’ll give it a go. Paris Requiem follows the reluctant, emotionally closed off American James Norton sent to Paris by his mother to retrieve his rebellious younger brother Raf and their fragile but eccentric sister Ellie. As soon as he arrives in Paris, James is swept up in the whirlwind of his siblings’ lives, hunting down the murderer of Raf’s drowned lover whilst simultaneously revealing the corruption of underground Paris and his own forgotten past. Appignanesi’s talent lies in her ability to tie together so many central strands into one story, managing to encompass an entire historical period through one family’s experiences. Despite having such a specific time and place setting, this book reminded me of one of the first novels I remember truly loving: Daphne Du Maurier’s The Parasites. This too explores the inner workings of the relationships between 3 siblings within the wider context of historical events, clashing intimate familial issues with huge world-changing events. Of course, the desire to reveal the solution to the thriller is what keeps you reading in Paris Requiem, but what really stayed with me afterwards was the tension in sibling relationships between competitiveness, jealously, rivalry, and an eternal, unbreakable attachment and unconditional love. The initial uptight, by-the-book nature of James is crucial to the impact of this tension, and the emotional dramatic irony of us realising the depths of his relationships before he does is not wasted.

At the same time as keeping us invested in the relatable familial storyline, Appignanesi flawlessly transports us to turn of the century Paris as if it is the most natural location in the world. Paris – the eternally romantic, magical city of love – becomes through Appiganesi’s description a dark and terrifying place, haunted with shadows of past, present and future. The narrative is one of those that no one can quite explain but everyone understands – one that gives you that claustrophobic feeling of danger and suffocation. At each corner that James turned, a fresh description, each dimmer than the previous, seizes the reader, and despite my ability to put the book down, I found myself just as incapable of shaking of that tainted, dirty feeling of the surroundings that James does.

Once again (thanks to Arcardia Books), I have finished a book a whole lot more knowledgeable about a place and time than I was before. This time, late 19^th century Paris - with its corruption which spreads like a disease to bond all aspects of society from the aristocratic politicians, to the powerful police, to the trusted doctors, to the seedy world of trafficking and prostitution - was laid out before me, and brought more shocking revelations as I turned each page. The American origins of our protagonists removes them from the story in the same way as the reader is, whilst the revelation that they may not be so innocently uninvolved in the Parisian world as they at first seem seduces us too into a world of inescapable corruption.

Read it now: Get it here