Sweet Treats in London

It’s been a very long term. I've barely managed to see any of my friends from home and it seems we’re all just completely bogged down by the dreaded third year workload. However, for me, last weekend marked the beginning of the end (for this term at least), and even better, the beginning of Christmas! Yes I know it’s mid-November, and no I am not ashamed. I will proudly own up as one of those Christmas loving needs-two-months-to-build-up-excitement types, I always have been and always will be. For me, Christmas is about family, friends, great food, and fun Christmas outings, and this is definitely what this weekend was all about.

On Saturday morning Harriet and I had arranged to have brunch and as the local Londoner I left it up to her to pick the place. She did NOT disappoint! She picked a place I’d never heard of called Honey&Co near Warren Street station. Now I’m one of those controlling weird people who likes to look up the entire menu of a place and take at least 3 days to mull over what I’m going to have – I’m just far too indecisive to choose on the spur of the moment. It’s a problem. However, the Honey&Co website is pretty basic and strange to navigate, with no menu, so alas I’d have to risk the anxiety of choosing on the day.

In the end, this website turned out to reflect the intimate, friendly atmosphere of the café/restaurant. Despite being very tucked away and subtle, the place was packed and we were lucky we’d booked. All the staff were really friendly and accommodating and I felt slightly like I was in someone’s living room rather than a restaurant. However – the best part was, of course, the food. We were recommended ‘the big breakfast’, and it was an AMAZING choice. At £12.95 per person it’s a complete bargain, and it is absolutely perfect for such an indecisive person like me. I should mention brunch in particular is very tricky as I can never choose between the sweet and savoury option – so this combination was a dream come true.

After a few sips of our rose and cinnamon tea we were bombarded with mini plates of Israeli mezze. On the savoury side we had houmous, garlic yogurt, pittas and breads, curried carrots, feta salad and olives, whilst for the sweet tooth there was hands down the best granola I’ve ever tasted (and I am a granola fiend) with yogurt and berries, and delicious varieties of jam. After ALL this we then chose our own option from the main menu – Harriet went for a harrissa sausage roll with a fried egg, whilst revealing that she’d NEVER had a fried egg before – just IMAGINE. After some heavy debating I went for poached eggs baked with wilted spinach and yogurt served with potato bread soldiers – simple but delicious. The eggs were the perfect amount of runniness for me, although I like them preeeetty undercooked so you may want to specify if you prefer a less liquidy egg (yes I know I’m so gross). The combination of the tart yogurt and spices with the creamy textures of the egg and spinach was just right – I could not have made a better choice!

Despite this immense feast, we couldn’t help being tempted by the beautiful array of cakes on display – we’ll blame it on our dangerous seating position RIGHT by the counters. We decided to share a coconut and chocolate cake (so much restraint). I’m not usually a coconut fan but it was actually very subtle and complimented the richness of the chocolate sponge perfectly. A great end to a three course brunch!

Once I had recovered from the morning banquet (and having been further plied with cakes at my sister’s house) we headed to Covent Garden to watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory the musical at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane for my little sister’s 10^th birthday. I’d been really excited about this for the whole week, it’s one of my favourite Roald Dahl books and I was so excited to see how the Wonka World would be translated onto stage. When we got there I realised it hadn’t just been translated onto the stage – the whole foyer of the theatre was decked out in Wonka merchandise and chocolates and really got us in the mood.

We were lucky enough to be sitting in the Royal Box, right at the edge of the stage, I’ve never been so close to the stage before and it was such fun experience actually being able to SEE the faces on stage (a novelty for me even with my glasses on). The whole performance was just really fun, family-friendly, and often very funny – I barely stopped smiling from start to finish. But what really blew me away was the set. The way they’d constructed Charlie’s home – his grandparents’ bed, the falling down walls – and Wonka’s factory – the chocolate garden, the nut testing room, the glass elevator – made it feel like they had plucked it right out of my imagination. The oompa-loompas were also a major highlight and really cleverly done (I could never explain how) to create the illusion of their shortness. However, the real highlight was the curtain call. A steward came into our box and asked the woman next to us to stand up for a minute – next time we turned round Willy Wonka was sitting in her seat chatting to us! He did his curtain call from our box, no doubt slightly marred by our severe blushing in the spotlight, but still a really cute personal touch which just topped off a really feel-good evening.

I can’t promise a chat with Wonka for everyone, but I can guarantee a great evening out – get tickets here

Revolt - Qaisra Shahraz

So here’s the second instalment in my Arcadia books reviews. I was really pleased to be reading something written by a woman after an entire term of male dominated literature, especially one who is as interested in the universal issues faced by women as Qaisra Shahraz. On her website, Shahraz explains how much of her work is influenced by not only her own experiences as a Muslim woman, but the experiences of those around her. This emotional attachment on the part of the writer was extremely evident and effectively translated into the heart of the reader – something which makes this novel so human and accessible.

Revolt is a multi-layered story of the events – public and private – of a small village in Pakistan, touching on every single resident. The character list is extensive, there is no one protagonist – although the story does take its starting point from the impending marriage of the children of two of the three wealthy land-owning sisters in the village, the bridegroom returning from England for the engagement party. This set-up immediately focuses the story on a set of characters, whilst widening the perspective to the entire rest of the village, as well as stretching the setting across the continents to England. I found this combination of such a large expansion and inclusion of societies, cultures, races and classes with a microcosmic zooming in on each character at any given chapter or paragraph fascinating, its flawless transitions endlessly skilled. From the outset, it is clear this is not just a simple story of the petty worries and events in a random Pakistani village – it is a multi-faceted exploration of the difficulties caught up in the debate concerning the gulf between Muslim Pakistani values and the West – seen through the eyes in turn of each and every character.

Much of the terminology surrounding reviews of this book is along the lines of ‘satisfying’ and ‘journey’ with Editor of Women’s Books Anora McGaha calling it a ‘fascinating ride’. These descriptions could not be more fitting – having sped my way through the gripping thriller Cloudland, Revolt was the perfect antidote. I really took my time reading it, enjoying every chapter and relishing in each new thread of the intricate storyline – it’s not a book you read 10 chapters of at a time, it’s one you slowly weave your way through, pausing to mull over and take in each and every strand. If I were ever to liken a book to a hug, it would be this (and I did) – combined with a big cup of tea and a blanket, it’s the perfect comforting winter warmer.

Every relationship possible is explored in the book, and at the base of it all I felt the characters were being linked with the one same point: no matter your race, gender, class, job, familial/living situation, all humans are equal and prejudices can only ever cause problems. This may sound like an obvious point we take for granted, but I really felt that this book taught me a lot and reinforced this point more than ever – even in the small intricacies of life prejudice needs to be combatted. Despite being mostly based in an almost completely alien situation and location to my own, Revolt forced me to reflect on my own behaviour and actions towards the people in my life. A book that makes a difference to the way you think is the sign of a truly great achievement. Moreover, the ability to make this one point over and over again with different characters without a sense of repetition coming through conveys Sharhraz’s creation of characters developed and emotive enough for the reader to interpret each story differently, whilst maintaining this pervading message.

I was hugely excited to start this book as I am a big fan of anything that teaches me about other cultures and societies – whether it be literature, film, food, or travelling to places themselves. Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things is one of my all-time favourite books, and was what really revealed my love for exotic settings and contrasting cultures. When describing Revolt I was known to call it ‘a watered down version of The God of Small Things’ – this is in no way an insult, although perhaps a flippant, vague statement – but I think it really gets to the bare-bones of the story. Obviously Roy’s novel is set in Hindu India, as different from Muslim Pakistan as England or America, it is also a hell of a lot more serious in tone, character development, and plotline (and eventual outcome) – hence the expression ‘watered down’. However, this exploration and exploitation of the serious problems and dangers surrounding traditional caste and class systems, as well as racism and the ways in which these are inherently engrained in people’s minds and souls, inescapable to even those who want to escape them, is what makes up both books. This is ultimately what made me fall in love with both books.

On the surface Revolt is an involved, intricate story that had me laughing one minute, tearing up the next. I wasn’t expecting to feel as attached to the characters as I inevitably did as their lives and situations unfolded – it’s impossible not to sympathise on some level with each and every character. However, underneath the reflex reactions and emotions, this book really taught me something and opened my mind to new perspectives of struggles regarding sexism, racism, and classism. Undoubtedly, I learnt a lot of fascinating things about the Pakistani culture and traditions, but at the root of the book is the universality that inextricably links the whole of humankind.

Read it NOW: Get it here

A Midsummer Night's Dream at The Noel Coward Theatre

Another weekend, another Shakespeare play. I feel extremely lucky at the moment to be enjoying so many trips to the theatre – some cultural, some less so (I am extremely excited to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory the Musical for my sister’s 10^th birthday in a few weeks…), nonetheless, the theatre is always a great day out. This weekend it was time for the hugely well reviewed A Midsummer Night’s Dream, starring

David Walliams and Sheridan Smith. And yes, I am one of those people who gets ridiculously star struck at even the smallest of sightings (I once met Ben from A1 and got the picture of us printed on a t shirt. Don’t ask who A1 are), so needless to say I was very excited.

Admittedly I was less excited for the actual play than I should have been. A Midsummer Night’s Dream isn’t one of the plays that I’ve extensively studied, but I’d kind of put it down in the same category of ‘overdone comedy’ as Much Ado. Now don’t get me wrong, I love any Shakespeare play - some would say I’m TOO obsessed even - but I am a sucker for the dramatic, haunting tragedies, rather than the comic romances. All I can say in justification of what I have now – post weekend – realised was a far too rash and completely erroneous opinion, is that I have been subjected to far too many mundane and shallow performances of Shakespearean comedy. The comedy had never come alive for me before in the way that tragedy does, it was all so dated and coy.

Well, I can tell you for sure, ‘dated’ and ‘coy’ are probably the two LEAST appropriate words to describe this incredible production. Instead, I’d probably go with hilarious and raunchy, saucy and hysterical, side-splitting and sexy…you get the picture. To start with, there were absolutely no null scenes, no annoying actors, no slow, dragging speeches – the talent of the entire cast and crew was outstanding. I would go as far to say this was the best stage production I’ve ever seen (aside from the pantomime obviously, although at times slightly reminiscent…more on that later), it really flew by and I felt a genuine pang of sadness when I realised it was coming to a close.

Now I realise I need to justify these bold statements, and I’ll try very willingly. First up: the two big names lived up to high expectations. Walliams, as Bottom, was the perfect camp comic archetype – to be honest it’s not hard to imagine his performance: just think of him in Little Britain, or on Britain’s Got Talent, or in Come Fly With Me…you get the picture. He did play his standard character, but I would go with the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ theory in this case. His character suited the play perfectly and seeing it live was even more hilarious.

Sheridan Smith was more of a surprise, I’d never really seen her on anything except Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps, so the transition from pub loving, tracksuit wearing 20-something to glamorous, bohemian queen of the fairies was never going to be a predictable one. Her performance turned out to be really captivating. Her husky, soothing voice delivered any lines with the perfect touch of emotion – whether she was angrily railing against Oberon, lovingly caressing Bottom, or commandingly addressing her fairies, her enchanting charisma was consistent. This was highlighted further by the general atmosphere of the fairy world – it was somewhere in between a boho summer festival and the Christmas pantomime. Dressed in minimal clothing with dreaded hair and sunglasses, the fairies pranced around the stage smoking, singing and lounging. The contrast between this and the more erratic, hyperbolic atmosphere of the lovers I felt emphasised Shakespeare’s mockery of the hysteria of the human characters – as they leap around the stage manically, the fairies retain constant control of both the humans and their own laidback lifestyle.

Now onto the true (unexpected) highlight for me, and who I felt were the unsung heroes of the performance: the four lovers. Performing aside one of the most famous comedians in Britain today must be somewhat of a daunting prospect, but this was at no point evident in any of the four lovers’ performances – they were just as hilarious, if not more so at points. Their scenes together basically consisted of each running after the next across the stage, increasingly wearing less and less clothes. Lysander and Demetrius ended up in no more than tight white boxers – much to mine, my mum and my sister’s delight! Everything was exaggerated, everything was overtly sexual, everything was over the top, everything was brilliant. From Helena predatorily mounting Demetrius in desperation, to spellbound Lysander screaming in his former lover Hermia’s face ‘I hate thee, you DWARF!’, every single scene had me in stitches. The overstated sexuality in this performance transformed phrases like ‘make love’ from the Shakespearean vocal meaning to the physical act it is today – the lovers became contemporary teenagers whose storyline anyone could understand, and everyone was laughing at, despite the potential language barrier.

I said it before and I’ll say it again – this is probably the best stage performance I have ever seen. I never really knew a theatrical piece could be quite SO laugh-out-loud funny. I wouldn’t hesitate to see it again today, tomorrow, the next day! Nothing was lacking for me, every single actor brought something exciting to it. You could tell they were working their absolute hardest to deliver the best performance possible – and they did!

It’s not on for much longer, and tickets are extremely popular so I’d recommend getting them here asap! Alternatively, Henry V featuring Jude Law (YUM) is up next, if anyone wants to get me tickets….

London Weekend Part 2: Macbeth at The Globe

Having spent the interim between lunch and the theatre exploring Angel, having some frozen yogurt, and a glass of wine or two in a very cosy local pub, we made our way over to Southbank for the main event!

Despite being a self-professed Shakespeare lover, much to my shame I have never visited The Globe before – so by the time this weekend finally came round I was ridiculously excited. The Globe does not stick out in the modern London cityscape as I thought it would – as you walk further along Southbank it seamlessly transforms into Shakespeare-land, with statues and signs featuring the likes of Francis Bacon, so that when you approach The Globe, it just feels natural.

After having a little look around the shop (a little, chilled wander for Angus, a rather too excitable dash around for me) we made our way into the grounds surrounding the actual theatre.  Angus had opted for standing tickets, said to be the best way to see a play there, so we took on our roles of Shakespearean groundlings and queued up outside the doors. Once in, we established a great place almost right at the front, definitely within touching distance of the actors (not that I would EVER do that…). My worries of some sort of Shakespeare induced mosh pit full of pushy punters were quickly diminished, everyone was very polite and chilled out and we had more than enough space to enjoy the performance.

The performance began with an eerie drum performance followed by the witches’ first scene. Far from the scraggly old Scottish women in decrepit pointy hats that has so often been the image of Macbeth, these three were beautiful and strong young women – and funny too. Their sexuality was both emphasised and subverted to make fools of the egotistical military heroes such as Macbeth and Banquo, who they fundamentally control. The presence of these three women throughout the play on the balcony above the stage, hiding around pillars on the stage, or orchestrating a song, really highlighted their role as the puppet masters of the action.

Macbeth himself was not only extremely easy to look at, charming, handsome, rugged…I could go on…but he was also strikingly modern. Technically nothing had been updated about the performance, they were all in traditional dress, they used Shakespeare’s script word for word, it wasn’t one of those contemporary interpretations – but that’s what made me realise: Shakespeare doesn’t NEED updating. His pure words performed on a stage speak to an eternal audience, unbound by geography, gender, class or time. The performance showed me that a single phrase featured in the middle of a long speech which is easy to skim over or dismiss as just a linguistic product of its time can actually be one of the most crucial lines of the play – conveying precisely what the character is about and how this relates to us the audience.

Sadly it’s impossible to describe every part of the play – but a couple of parts really stood out, on top of what I’ve already mentioned. The Globe is, and always has been, an open air theatre (luckily the weather held out for us), in the majority of Shakespearean or other Renaissance plays there are numerous references to the weather and the heavens, at which point it was likely the actors would gesture to the sky – jokes about the elements or the technicalities of the stage were common and popular. However, in this production, this tradition was updated. Throughout the performance there were planes flying over, muting the actors’ words, and a particularly endearing and unexpected moment was when Macbeth actually referenced the inconvenience of this during one of his speeches. The pure unpredictability and accidental nature of this little addition was just another one of those nice aspects that brings you closer to the actors and their performance, and reminds you of the universality of the theatre.

Now, ghosts can be a bit of a taboo with regards to Shakespeare. I’ve learnt throughout my education that everyone has their own preference of how a ghost should be presented, from being physically on the stage to speaking off stage to the modern fashion of video footage and sound effects. I’m not hugely fussed about it - as long as it goes with the tone of the performance and there isn’t a madman in a white sheet running around the stage, it’s fine by me. Despite my lack of preference, I reckon Banquo’s ghost scene would have satisfied most fussy customers. His physical presence made the scene both terrifyingly haunting and hilarious at the same time. Banquo remained silent for the entire scene, merely following Macbeth around as he erratically leapt over chairs and scrambled around the dining table. The on-stage presence of the ghost made the scene all the more comic as the audience could see what the on-lookers could not – what was causing Macbeth to act so insanely - but his constant eye contact with Macbeth equally hinted that it could indeed all be in his head. This combination of comic and sinister devices, the stark contrast between Macbeth’s slapstick hysteria and Banquo’s eerie silence, encapsulated the entire performance for me. Not only did this production deliver the genre-defying plot and techniques that I feel so define the genius of Shakespeare, but they brought it to life in a modern context, without actually BRINGING it into a modern context – it proved that four centuries on, Shakespeare can still be enjoyed, and refreshed, by all.

Sadly, we caught one of the last performances, but The Globe are constantly showing great performances, I would go every week if I could! Find tickets for the latest shows here

London Weekend Part 1: Ottolenghi's Restaurant

Last weekend had been much anticipated in my calendar for the past two months: my surprise belated birthday weekend arranged by my lovely boyfriend! He combined my two favourite things: eating and Shakespeare, for the ultimate perfect weekend in London.

Angus kept lunch plans well under wraps, and I was completely surprised when I found out we were going to Yotam Ottolenghi’s restaurant in Islington.

I’ve only known about Ottolenghi for about a year, thanks to my Mum receiving his book Plenty and producing out of it the Mediterranean Farro Salad – something that has quickly become a firm staple at any family dinner. It’s totally delicious and always completes the perfect tapas style dinner – my absolute favourite type of meal. Having this limited knowledge of Ottolenghi, the restaurant both met my hopeful expectations and completely surpassed them.

You can’t book for lunchtimes so we went early (12.30) to avoid missing out. We only queued for about half an hour, and were happily seated by 1. I’d advise not going any later than this as soon after we sat down the entire front of the restaurant/shop was a crowd of hungry people. I say restaurant/shop because this is both a sit-down restaurant and a (very posh) take away. As we were queuing a constant stream of yummy mummies and fashionable London-professional-types were running in and out with their boxes of salads and cakes.

As well as this, the front of the shop is lined with shelves of all sorts of Ottolenghi products. For a start: the desserts (I didn’t even know he did desserts!). The front window is packed with an innumerable number of sweet treats, from cupcakes to meringues, chocolate torte to apple tart, if you could name it, it was there. And all beautifully laid out. The other front window is similarly adorned, but this time with various store-cupboard goodies – I was particularly tempted by the homemade granola and jams (yes I am a breakfast fiend). With all this to work your appetite well and truly up, along with the copies of Ottolenghi’s cook books to flick through, AND the table of beautiful, colourful salads to excite you for what you’re about to dig into, the wait literally flew by.

Now onto the important stuff…the lunch menu is a ranging option of about 10 salads and 6 mains – there are various choices of how to mix and match these, but we both went for ‘normal’ (their subtler way of saying large) – 1 main accompanied by 3 salads. We chose to share these so all in all we had (get ready for this): Sundried tomato, caramelised onion and goat’s cheese quiche, seared tuna, grilled peppers with mint yogurt, spiced cauliflower with curried almonds, quinoa and giant cous cous with gorgonzola, roasted aubergine with pomegranate seeds and yogurt, roasted butternut squash with chargrilled sweetcorn and feta AND roasted new potatoes with an anchovy tapenade. Phew. Not your average green soggy salad from the supermarket.

Everything was absolutely incredible, even the things I wasn’t expecting to love (butternut squash – not a huge fan) I wolfed down. My favourite was definitely the aubergine – I always go for an aubergine dish in a restaurant as I can never recreate it at home - but with its perfectly chargrilled aftertaste and crispy skin, combined with the thick yogurt, this was by far the best aubergine dish I’ve tried. Having mopped up the rest with the generous assortment of bread, which was also really unique and unrivalled by any ‘bread baskets’ I’ve had before, we were well and truly stuffed.

Dessert is self-service; you simply go and pick which cake/pastry/tart/chocolate monstrosity you want from the front window. Having been desperate to sample these at the start, we decided we definitely needed a bit of a wander to work off our main...we’ll have to sample those another day!

Although we weren’t having dessert, the staff were extremely polite and accommodating. We weren’t rushed out at all, and were left to have our coffees in peace. Despite there being an ever growing queue of waiting diners we were under no pressure to leave, unlike in some busy restaurants. As well as an unrivalled meal and perfect service (as if you need another reason to pay a visit immediately), the prices are extremely reasonable. For what I’d definitely call a large plate of the most delicious, perfected and creative mixture of dishes you pay £16, and that’s the most expensive choice on the menu! Pretty good for a wonderful, filling meal at the restaurant of one of the most innovative and unique chefs around today.

Thank you, Ottolenghi! (And Angus…)

Ottolenghi also has restaurants in Soho, Notting Hill and Belgravia – you can find information and sample menus for them all here

Pride and Prejudice - Regent's Park Open Air Theatre

Emma, Sense and Sensibility, Northanger Abbey….you really can’t beat a bit of Jane Austen. When I saw this play version in Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre advertised, I could not resist. I booked tickets with my sisters for the next available performance, and loaded with crudités, homemade houmous, and a blanket, we excitedly made our way over there on Tuesday night.

Adapted for the stage by Simon Reade, and directed by Deborah Bruce, for me (and probably most of the audience) this production had a LOT to live up to. I am a massive Austen fan, and I find her novels are some of the only ones that film adaptations can really do justice to – assuming her satirical hilarity is maintained throughout. Everyone has their personal favourite, usually involving Colin Firth or Kiera Knightley. Personally, I’m in the Kiera Knightley boat – it’s become somewhat of a tradition to lie on the sofa on New Year’s Day in a less-than-healthy state and delight in the period costumes, the dancing, the sexily broody Mr Darcy, and obviously Kiera’s go-to ‘sticking-my-chin-out-to-convey-emotion’ face. But I digress, this is not a review on my favourite film (sob). However, it was necessary to express my extreme adoration for the film to convey my expectations, which were, it’s safe to say………………….COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY FULFILLED (nice bit of suspense there).

Hidden away in a corner of Regent’s park, we felt like we were walking into an enchanted forest. We’re talking gigantic trees delicately fitted with fairy and tea lights surrounding the stage in a semi-circle against a backdrop of a beautiful summer’s evening. The stage itself was circular, with a balcony in the middle. Much to my delight, it rotated with each scene change (and even during certain scenes), giving swift, unnoticeable transitions, and making sure each member of the audience got every perspective of the on-stage action.

Now onto the important stuff – the actual performance. I have quite an immense amount to say about this, mainly because I loved it so much, so to prevent this from turning into some sort of dissertation I’m just going to do a run down of the principle characters:

Mrs Bennett – Initially I was apprehensive, I wasn’t sure if I could deal with her shrillness and exaggerated acting for the entire duration, however you soon come to realise that Mrs Bennett cannot be played in any other way. The whole POINT of her is exaggeration, and Rebecca Lacey captured her insufferability and fickle nature absolutely perfectly. I did not stop laughing/grinning throughout the entire second half.

Lizzie – This Lizzie gave a fresh perspective to her, and I have a sneaky feeling perhaps more what Austen may have intended (obviously pure speculation, but ya know). She was less quietly stubborn and a bit petulant, and more headstrong and wilful, making her somewhat rapid transition from utter disgust to unconditional love for Mr Darcy slightly more understandable.

Mr Darcy – At the beginning, a tad too posh and stiff for my liking. Obviously he’s meant to be like this, but I felt a bit more humour wouldn’t have gone amiss, and his aggressiveness came across as slightly too vicious at times rather than endearingly tongue-in-cheek.

Mr Bingley – Undoubtedly, in any production he is always one of my favourite characters – it’s probably down to the way he’s written (bashful, nervous, slightly clumsy) so it would be hard to get him wrong. But I especially loved the subtle touches Rob Heaps gave to the character. Period adaptations so often get stifled and trapped in the age they were written – we all know that generic tone of voice we used to put on when forced to ‘perform’ (drone out) Shakespeare extracts at school – but the characters were not afraid to deliver the lines in the modern, casual way that we would speak today, outlining the absolute timelessness of Austen’s writing.

Mr Collins – Completely and utterly pantomime. But I loved it! His acting was so physical that you couldn’t help but laugh, and it was a happy relief from some of the slightly-too-long serious scenes (namely involving Catherine de Bourgh). His comic timing was completely spot on and, like Mrs Bennett, whilst playing the surface character Austen has created, he managed to leave enough space for the audience to infer his own self-satire – something I’m sure Jane would have been very satisfied with.

Mr Bennett – For me, the only downside of the production as a whole. His extreme switches between comical, happy, angry, depressed, and even slightly nihilistic were just a bit too much, they made him impossible to grasp as a rounded character and he didn’t really fulfil the constant, family figurehead that I was expecting.

Bennett sisters - Added that sense of hysteria which is so present in Austen’s satire of social climbing, small-village communities. Think Kardashian, but slightly less annoying and a lot more endearing.

All in all, I loved this – I was beaming from start to finish, and I was pleasantly surprised by the extent to which it actually made me laugh out loud. Its unforced and natural mixture of Austen’s setting, style and characters with a contemporary, updated view was completely graceful and reminded me exactly why I adore snuggling up with a cup of tea and an Austen novel so much.

Now….where’s a copy of Mansfield Park?

See it now: Get tickets here, we went for the cheapest, were on the back row right at the top and could see absolutely everything!

Wednesday Wishlist

On The Road - The Original Scroll Jack Kerouac

This week and last week I have been lucky enough to have the opportunity to do work experience in Michael Joseph, the commercial imprint of Penguin. Being able to listen in on discussions about up and coming authors and books (and sometimes being involved!) is completely invaluable and so interesting! Another perk of the job is all the books lying around the office which I have been taking advantage of at any point I can. Literally a book lover’s heaven. Michael Joseph does a lot of cookery, celebrity books, diet books and women’s fiction, some of which I will be reviewing soon, but here’s something I came across the other day from the actual Penguin general branch, and I personally think it’s pretty special…

I’ve actually got this as a present for someone who's a BIG fan so shhh…but you can get your own copy here. On the Road isn’t my typical choice of book, but seeing other people’s passion for it and understanding its importance in its own period and culture, ie the ‘beat’ generation, makes it one of those books you just HAVE to read - somewhat of a rite of passage for all travellers/writers/general free spirits. I’m not going to write a whole review on it, but this original scroll (Kerouac initially wrote it on a 120 foot piece of teletype paper in 3 weeks - pictured below) edition is a must have for both hard-core Kerouac fans and those trying something new – reading something exactly as the author wrote it with no interruptions or editing is always more exciting, and gives you that priceless sense of intimacy with the author.

The Fault In Our Stars - John Green

My sister passed this book on to me and it has fast become my favourite book, I’ve since run around feverishly recommending it to anyone and everyone and have subsequently concluded that I am a serious late comer to this whole John Green obsession.

The Fault in our Stars was actually first released in January 2012. On the mere announcement of its title in June 2011 it shot to the top of both Amazon and Barnes & Noble bestseller lists. So clearly I have been rather slow off the mark. Forgive me, I’m an English Literature student - put simply, 30 weeks of compulsory reading a year. But the important thing is that I did finally get round to reading it, and it proved the perfect procrastination to revision for my 2^nd year exams.

Written in the first person of Hazel, a teenage girl with terminal cancer, this book was always doomed to end in tears. And I have to admit, for me, it did. A whole 45 minutes of them. But despite its hopeless premise, this story remains unpredictable and truly gripping throughout.

Having been forced to go to cancer support group by her loving but suffocating parents, Hazel meets the effortlessly cool, exceedingly intelligent, philosophical, and obviously drop dead gorgeous (albeit slightly arrogant) Augustus Waters…..did I hear someone say Edward Cullen? I’ll admit, when I first started the book I really wasn’t into it, I did feel it was a complete Twilight type, which obviously I adored slightly too much when I was younger (who didn’t?), but in retrospect is a just a slightly shallow, badly written book with pretentious characters. At first I found Augustus and Hazel’s quick-witted banter similarly unrealistic and slightly irritating, but oh how quickly I realised how utterly wrong I was.

This book is not just a superficial adolescent, angsty love story; the cancer plagues the story in a tragic but engrossing way. You’re forced to simultaneously deal with the gritty reality of the constant side effects of actually living with cancer and the dark humour the characters are driven to find in their impossible situations. For me, cancer is no longer just this terrible ominous monster; it is also, for the characters suffering, a routine, an everyday life that they just have to contend with. Perhaps this is just the ignorance of someone who has been lucky enough never to have a direct experience with cancer, but I think John Green deals with it in an important way for any reader.

Whilst the cancer pervades the entire story, and is a constant, tense presence, it does not drown the captivating, endearing love story of Hazel and Augustus. At heart this book is a deliciously soppy-in-a-good-way tale that made me physically grin and smirk on behalf of Hazel in certain (most) parts. Augustus’ one liners made me feel all fluttery and nervous and I guarantee they will have the same effect on ANYONE. I’m not ashamed to say that I fell so utterly in love with him that, having conjured him up so visibly in my head, I was CERTAIN that I saw him across the street just a couple of days after finishing the book. Alas, it was not him, seemingly just a side effect of my post-TFIOS-depression period. Warning prospective readers: this period lasts a while. For me, this is the true sign of a brilliant, beautifully written book, when even after finishing, you can’t get the characters out of your head, and you physically miss them as if they were your best friends. The best consolation I had was a boyfriend called Gus I could pretend was the wonderful Augustus Waters, in a strictly non-creepy way….obviously. Perhaps a slighter better consolation for the rest of you may be the announcement of a film on the cards. Although I am slightly apprehensive, as we all are, of my new favourite characters being physically brought to life without me being in COMPLETE CONTROL, I am certainly excited to see how Hazel’s hilarious, philosophical, metaphysical observations will be brought onto the big screen. 

Greed satisfaction scale: I was left craving much more of these characters and feeling less than full, but in retrospect this is what the most talented of chefs strive for: the perfectly sized meal that doesn't fill you to that sickening level but leaves enough space to retain it in your memory for a long time to come.

Read it now: get it here