LITERARY FICTION
HUMMINGBIRD by Tristan Hughes (Parthian Books £10)
THIS lean, lyrical Canadian novel put me in mind of Appalachian Ron Rash, whose keen appreciation of the natural world ensures his novels are as much about landscapes as the people who live in them.
Fifteen-year-old Zachary lives with his father in a small town by a lake, not far from the house where his mother killed herself when he was small. But he is not the only one blighted by grief in this meagre town — teenage Eva was orphaned when her parents’ plane came down in a nearby swamp and now lives with her uncle, whom she privately blames for the crash.
Zachary narrates, and his calm, simple, teenage voice — as he tries both to understand what his mother did, and to help his dad — is beautifully nuanced and utterly touching.
And then there are the depthless lakes and forests of northern Canada, which provide a resonant backdrop for these damaged people as they emerge from the shadows of what they have lost.
PAGES FOR HER by Sylvia Brownrigg (Picador £14.99)
SYLVIA BROWNRIGG’S new book is a sequel to her 2001 novel Pages For You, but you don’t need to have read that to enjoy this story about Anne and Flannery, who first met when Flannery was a student.
Now, she is a 39-year-old married, heterosexual mother of one who, since the end of her brief, intense love affair with Anne, has published two books — one a successful memoir, the second a novel that sank without trace.
But a writers’ conference has given her an unexpected chance to reacquaint with Anne who, in the intervening years, has had her own big love affair with a man and established herself as a well-respected academic.
Brownrigg’s prose is a bit icky at times, particularly when describing Anne and Flannery’s reunion in a hotel room. But female friendship, platonic or sexual, is a big topic in current fiction and Brownrigg’s novel, which has lots of insightful things to say about the relationship between women’s lives and creativity, is a worthy contribution.
A THOUSAND PAPER BIRDS by Tor Udall (Bloomsbury £16.99)
TOR UDALL’S debut is set mostly in Kew Gardens — a secular Eden steeped in the language of death and renewal. And it proves an abundant and richly suggestive backdrop for this unusual story about young musician Jonah, who is nearly capsized by grief over his recently deceased wife, Audrey, and the children they were unable to have, even while he embarks on a new, somewhat half-hearted affair with artist Chloe.
But then there is Harry, a war veteran and gardener at Kew, whom it seems Audrey had got to know in the months before her death. And who is Milly, the little girl who appears to live in the gardens and who calls Harry dad?
Udall’s book has a severe case of firstnovelitis: it’s over-written, takes itself too seriously and is suffused with whimsy. Yet there is also no doubting the ambition of Udall, as she weaves a complex story about the mysterious ways a life can linger, like a scent, and how grief and love can sometimes feel so vast and overwhelming that no earthly landscape can contain them.