Books

I had at first thought the Meat-Free Kitchen looked and felt like one of the many cookbooks I have at home, and in some ways it certainly is. What stood out though was that each of the recipes within are relatively easy, most ingredients are already staples in my pantry, and for the odd anomaly, i.e. farro, a quick Google search was the only thing between me and a new untried and unheard of grain. Apparently farro is an ancient and complicated wholegrain wheat.

My hands-down favourite fare was the Spinach and Mushroom Pesto Breakfast Bowls. The delectable veggies and move away from my bog standard cereals that shall remain unnamed reminded me of our long-gone Japanese student and how he used to regale us with tales of his fish and vegetable breakfasts. From a healthy perspective and a ‘try something’ new perspective, I certainly can’t argue. Getting up and eating veggies was something new, but I liked it!

As I worked my way through the book, by no means cooking everything I must add, the goalpost for ‘favourite’ deftly moved. The Nut Burger was to me the holy grail. Simple, delicious, and full of nuts, it was in no way lacking from an absence of meat. Many of the Meat-Free Kitchen recipes feature nutritional yeast, another thing I found appealing. The Pepperoni Pizza Burgers were a winner with the youngest family member who thought it a hoot that a pizza was masquerading as a burger – not only that, they tasted great too. It forced me to rethink my definition of a pizza and a burger all at once.

The Meat-Free Kitchen has a whole section on sauces and there’s even The Better Mac, which I’m yet to try. What I love about cooking is that it challenges you to try different things, there’s always a bit of artistic licence, and if something doesn’t work, substituting ingredients and experimenting only adds to the creative process.

After escaping New Zealand via questionable means and surviving a harrowing experience in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Maia and her new companion Lucas find themselves in the soaking ruins of what used to be called California. While they’re a few steps closer to reaching their goal of the Old Arctic Circle, it isn’t long before they find new dangers trying to stop them.

In her latest entry of The Forgotten Ones saga, The Burn of a Thousand Suns, Webster has managed to ratchet up the tension by introducing newer and far deadlier threats than Maia ever faced in Aotearoa. Everything from the harsh deserts of California to marauding gangs in Los Angeles bring a new intensity that I didn’t feel in the first book. Everything in this broken new setting seems to want to harm or kill them by design.

Just like the first book, The Weight of a Thousand Oceans, the world is extraordinary and comes alive off the page. With the dangers ramped up this time, it’s nail-biting stuff. Every time Maia and Lucas found themselves in hot water, I was literally on the edge of my seat eager to see how they would find a way out. 

Maia herself has grown since the first book, and far from being the wide-eyed innocent she was in Webster’s first entry, she has evolved into a confident, strong character who takes on everything thrown at her. Her bond with Lucas (whom she met in the first book) continues to grow. They make something of a dynamic duo who complement each other nicely. I cannot wait to find out if their relationship develops even further than it already has in (hopefully) the next book. 

Reading The Burn of a Thousand Suns was a real treat and once again I find myself in that strange position of not having anything to complain about. All I can do now is sit back and patiently wait for the next instalment of The Forgotten Ones saga.

Anthony Doerr won the Pulitzer Prize in 2015 for his desperately moving wartime story All the Light We Cannot See. The novel remains one of my favourites of the last decade. And now, we have Cloud Cuckoo Land, an epic of 600 pages, beginning and ending with a Greek myth and, in between, five stories which cover wonderful journeys of fantasy and reality. All are linked quite simply by books, ancient and modern.

We meet Konstance, with her parents in a spaceship Argos already having travelled 65 years from a ravished Earth, much of her time spent in the ship’s library exploring legends and what may or may not be truth. Anna lives in Constantinople in the 15th century awaiting the Muslim Sultan’s attack while secretly learning to read. Omeir has been living in a farm with his family and his oxen but has now been dragooned to help the Sultan, as this young boy is a master at controlling Moonlight and Tree, his adorable oxen. Zeno is introduced first in his eighties at the local library in modern day Lakeport Ohio, where he is rehearsing with a group of young children a play called Cloud Cuckoo Land. Seymour, a young ecoterrorist, has a bomb on the premises and is preparing to target local estate developments.

Each of these characters may survive and relate, but what is certain is their common belief in humanity. All the stories are brought together in a triumph of textual brilliance by an author at the top of his achievements. Doerr uses the Greek and English languages with challenges to the reader that will, by turns, exhilarate and demand absolute attention. But books and their survival are central to this extraordinary accomplishment.

“For the librarians then, now, and in the years to come”, is Doerr’s dedication.

And, of course, the last acknowledgment is to his dear readers.

“Without you I’d be all alone, adrift atop a dark sea, with no home to return to.”

Get aboard.

There are times when my background in plain English gets in the way of my task as a poetry reviewer. Plain English – you know, words we all understand, some kind of discernible narrative line, conventional use of punctuation – that sort of thing. But when reviewing poetry, such a constricted approach has got to go out the window. This is decidedly the case with Sam Duckor-Jones’ new collection Party Legend.

What’s he on? I wondered as I blundered into his seven-pages-long first poem Party Legend. A few verses in, I wondered what’s he on about? And the answer is a blast of admiration for a piece of satire as amusing as it is devastating. Does its title give it away? Only if you’ve got an eye for puns.

Otherwise, do these lines help? “Vote for me. I’m from a very distinguished flame...I have a very relatable familiar regular story”. Party Legend is a sustained rant of contemporary relevance decorated with unlikely metaphors, tall stories, and shameless exaggerations – all of which enhance its satirical intent.

I’m not so full of praise for another long piece. The Embryo Repeats contains all the latest cleverness. Its featured character is a God scorned: “God is one of these creatives who gets bored quickly”. It also features invented words, esoteric abbreviations such as pbu (peace be upon), ampersands, slashes, and mystifying spaces in the text. It gallops along with a great deal of quirkiness and energy – and it’s unintelligible. That’s fashionable too though – and it’s the sort of thing publishers love.

There are explanatory notes to this collection – and it’s just as well. How else would I have known that Allemande in G by J.S. Bach uses “the lettered notes of the western octatonic scale in the order found in Bach’s Cello Suites”?

I’m tempted to accuse Duckor-Jones of showing off. But then I’m just a good old-fashioned fan of plain English and consideration for the general reader.

It’s been a long time since I was able to settle into a rich juicy novel, and Jillian Webster’s The Weight of a Thousand Oceans has helped scratch that itch. The story focuses on a young woman named Maia growing up in a dystopian New Zealand.

Having been raised solely by her grandfather in isolation, Maia grows up restless and eagerly wants to see the world and live her own life. When she hears something about the Old Arctic Circle, she decides to set off and see it for herself.

This book really impressed me. In a richly detailed world that has been knocked back to the literal stone age, everyone is just trying their best to survive. They all have their own motivations that make sense, and not all will have Maia’s best interests at heart. 

Webster has managed to capture the humanity of each character – their desperation, their pain, and their joy – wonderfully. Her writing makes them literally spring to life. They feel real and relatable, which added to my overall immersion when reading the book. The story is a real treat that had me on the edge of my seat, with Maia’s escape being one of my favourite moments (don’t worry, no spoilers here).

The standout is Maia herself. During the course of The Weight of a Thousand Oceans she goes from naïve and starry-eyed to a genuinely tough heroine. I liked her transformation, and in my opinion, it was natural and organic. 

Normally at this point I would list some of the things I didn’t like about the book, but here I got nothing. The entire story is so amazing, the characters are so deep, and the world they live in is well put together. With luck Webster can use the momentum she’s generated in this book and carry it over to the sequel The Burn of a Thousand Suns. Fingers crossed she can pull it off.

The striking cover of Tōku Pāpā, featuring author Ruby Solly and (one may only guess) her father in full traditional dress, lends itself to the depth and drama you will find beneath. Strong and powerful, Solly writes of her journey and her connection to her whakapapa then, now, and forever. Her poetry collection is loosly connected by themes, firstly awe (the strength and power of the soul) and secondly, kura (feathers; a glow; the colour red).

Tōku Pāpā is Solly’s first book – a multi-talented creative, musician, and writer, she is also the composer of the album Pōneke, featuring the soundscapes of Wellington. I could easily imagine this as a backdrop to her orated poems. Her words, beautifully crafted yet hauntingly stark, harness the fragility yet strength of parenting, and the relationships that hold for a lifetime. Woven effortlessly throughout is the presence of Solly’s father.

Through her poems I considered the elements of nature and nurture and what it means to grow up outside your culture and feel alienated or disconnected from it; or instead, to grow up surrounded by your culture, embedded in all that you are and all that you will be.

There’s a sense of the latter throughout Solly’s poems where her connection to her whakapapa and knowledge of where she came from was ever-present, despite growing up away from her marae. There is pain and sorrow around this. Enveloped in her voice is a longing, at times heartbreaking.

The beauty of her poetry is that the inane and the ordinary becomes startling, unique and imbued with wisdom and the passing of time. Solly’s lyrics immerse you, as if crossing generations.

“You buried my whenua at a motel”.

“When my brother is born you bury his on someone else’s mountains”.

Tōku Pāpā is a sweeping collection of poems that convey a sense of the ties that bind us, and of Solly’s connection and identity, nurtured by her father who showed up for her past, present, and future.

Lynda La Plante (CBE no less), aka ‘The Queen of Crime Drama’, has written her 45th book – Judas Horse. It’s about a gang of professional burglars in the scenic Cotswolds countryside who haven’t been caught in their very successful three years on the job. Enter Detective Sergeant Jack Warr to right the wrongs. Maybe I missed the description of Jack but I have no idea what he looks like. You know when you have a really strong image of how a character looks and then you watch the film and your vision is shattered? Won’t be happening here… but I digress. 

Judas Horse has the usual English PC plods trying to keep up with the big boys from the big smoke. The burglars’ crimes are set in the equestrian world with horse floats making excellent getaway vehicles full of stolen items. Hiding in plain sight as it were. There are wacky locals to work with and lots of egos in the police force that Jack has to deal with, including his own.

Some aspects of the storyline were implausible – like the burglars getting a horse to trample its owner. As an experienced equestrian, this would be difficult to achieve without a lot of training. Other examples are unarmed police taking on a professional and armed gang of burglars in the big sting. The police leaving the door open to make it easier for the burglars… thoughtful! The gang made mistakes by using another form of horsepower, driving expensive, go-faster red Ducati Streetfighter V4 motorbikes that should have stood out to locals and police alike. There is a James Bond-style helicopter chase which sounded fun, if not hair-raising.

I could put this book down easily, and felt deflated as I was looking forward to a gripping page-turner. La Plante’s Prime Suspect books, which became a highly watched BBC TV series, were great. But maybe because Helen Mirren was the star? Perhaps after writing 44 books the author is jaded? Or I am? The jury’s out.

A celebration of womanhood, Sista, Stanap Strong! explores ni-Vanuatu women’s struggle against sexism and misogyny in conjunction with Oceanian colonialism, slavery, racism, and independence.

Sista, Stanap Strong! is important for its reclamation of language, recounting, remembering, and rising above the horrors of colonialism and slavery. Stories and poems such as The bitterness of sugar cane by Losana Natuman recount the incipience of colonialism and blackbirding, whereas Dirty white by Jane Kanas portrays the lasting effect of 19th century colonialism in the 70s and 80s. Kanas’ story directly outlines the role language plays in colonisation, placing English in direct opposition to Bislama and native languages. Though not a direct act of physical violence, cultural, emotional, and psychological damage persist through modern day.

This anthology spans multiple generations of Vanuatu women’s perspectives, with writings ranging from teenagers to octogenarians. Despite the variation in age and experiences however, the perspective remains relatively unchanged. These women are nurturing and strong, trailblazers and keepers of tradition, culture, and history, and yet almost all of them encounter and are defiant in the face of sexism and misogyny. Whether it be domestic violence as in Is this real love by Roselyn Qwenako Tor or men’s insistence upon female inferiority in Mildred Sope’s recollection of the independence movement. “I was targeted and victimised cruelly... the priority was the boys... no more should my girls feel unequal, their rights and voices drowned by some people”, Telstar Jimmy’s voice proclaims in Their lives matter more. Every piece of writing in this anthology is about perseverance and endurance in the face of oppression.

Aside from its focus on universal feminism and female oppression, Sista, Stanap Stong! also presents the intersectional struggle of Vanuatu women in particular. Most of these voices have not been heard until now; they are empowering, they are strong, they are female, and they call for not only Vanuatu women but women everywhere to endure, overcome, and Stanap Strong!

The title of Vincent O’Sullivan’s latest poetry collection signals a virtual handshake to readers. They probably know each other, so the greeting is in order.

I get the impression that O’Sullivan is philosophically at ease – both with himself and with the world. If he has axes to grind, I’m not hearing them. Instead, we get 80 poems ranging widely in subject matter, and readers may surprise themselves by the number of references they recognise. We get mentions of the Treaty and Te Rauparaha, Toto the dog, Hitchcock’s birds, the Garden of Eden, and pin the tail on the donkey. And that’s not to omit Marie Antoinette’s head and the dignity of Chinese women meticulously preparing to die.

There are poetic treats for linguists, who will nod sympathetically at In defence of the adjectival, those who have committed autobiography may wince at The spook at life writing, and everyone will enjoy Fieldwork with its final line, “No one has ever sprained an ankle in a rabbit hole on a map”.

Things are extra OK with me when O’Sullivan ventures upon a few narrative poems long enough to hold some bold social commentary. The story of Born Again Brightly, being the name I chose describes a millionaire in a doctor’s waiting room, a doctor who operates on “the smaller lesions of wealth, on investment melanoma, on impacted properties, ingrown shares, devalued tumour”. How surgically incisive!

Things aren’t OK with everyone. Epistemology, Standard Five takes a wry look at life’s unfairness: some of us get brains and beauty and others defects and disabilities. “God wants you to be”, insists Sister Gabriel. Our poet is not convinced. The resignation of the final two lines gains extra effect because they rhyme: “Being clangs its door. No second queue. Get a load of this, Being says, ‘Make do, make do’.”

Life’s been more than fair to O’Sullivan: those who get gifted with talent are the luckiest. But, as this collection demonstrates, he does a lot more than “make do”.

If you haven’t heard of Arthur Taylor you’re either young or have been living under a rock. Mind you, he did have 10 aliases, essential kit when you’re a career criminal. 

Arthur tells his life story which is a revolving door in and out of prisons throughout New Zealand. He blames his downward spiral on the Epuni Boys’ Home, where he was sent for wagging at age 11. After that, he spent 38 years in total in jail. He has a lovely, supportive family by all accounts and a big brain (if he does say so himself). 

His language is blunt and of course there is a lot of swearing, so beware if you don’t like foul language. A description of Arthur from a fellow crim: “he’s lower than a sewer, a dirtbag, lard-arse, motor-mouth, mother-...”

Arthur spent a lot of his time on the inside fighting for prisoners’ rights and he studied the law in order to represent himself in court multiple times. One incident he complained about was a detective repeatedly hitting him over the head with a telephone book. He does play the victim a bit which sticks in my craw. After all, he committed a lot of crimes, some serious. He is proud of the fact that during his crimes he never physically hurt anyone but does acknowledge his victims might have suffered PTSD. Really Arthur – you think?

I find his life continuously boring, running from cops then fighting the latest charge from jail. He seemed to revel in annoying people. However, his work on improving conditions for his “brothers and sisters in jail” is admirable. I found his stories about famous inmates, including Graeme Burton and Liam Reid, so interesting that I Googled those criminals to revisit their ghastly crimes.

Arthur Taylor is out (at the time of this review) living the quiet life, and still fighting the good fight for other prisoners. Prison Break is an interesting read on a life that thankfully I’ve never had to participate in. Yet.

Co-author of Unleash Your Superpowers, Rosemary Killip acknowledges those in her professional life who have allowed her to grow, learn, and challenge herself. Every interaction was an opportunity to step up, to shine, or to shrink. In a sense, this sums up the heart of Unleash Your Superpowers.

Exploring the stories of a group of diverse women, authors Killip and Jen Tyson delve into the strategies each of these professional women have navigated, to literally unleash their own unique superpowers. Everyone has them they say, and the more I read, the more I agree. What makes their stories relatable is that I could imagine sitting with each one of them. These are women I work with, we all work with, and I could see elements of their stories that mirrored my own.

A question I found most interesting was, ‘Who are you at work?’ Killip and Tyson challenge you to consider your ‘personal brand’. Do you recognise this person? What are you known for? Does it align with your non-work self? Spotting and navigating opportunities to ‘rebrand’ yourself all contribute to making positive changes. If how you are seen at work is not who you are elsewhere, you can make positive changes to realign yourself. You owe it to yourself to have a fulfilling, happy career. If you don’t invest in your own personal growth, it’s not likely anyone else will either.

This means having an awareness of your surroundings, your body language, how you communicate, and how you respond to others.

Look for an organisation or project that aligns with your interests – discover why you do what you do. If the going gets tough: “Never let a barrier be a barrier, stop if you fall over, pick yourself up and keep going. Sometimes learning hurts,” says Jo Miller, chief executive of Hutt City Council.

Unleash Your Superpowers is a superb book, incredibly easy to read, and filled with some really inspiring takeaways from some pretty insightful women.

Two things strike me about the cover of 21 Hacks to Rock your Midlife. A title like that clearly signals that this is a book for women. Men don’t need to “Release the Past, Dare to Dream and Create [their] Legacy”, do they?

And then there’s the word “hacks”. I’m not going to pretend I didn’t have to check Wikipedia for the new and improved meaning of a word that’s got a history of negative connotations. For the uninitiated, a hack can now mean “any trick, shortcut, skill, or novelty method that increases productivity and efficiency, in all walks of life”. Hmmm.

“Midlife isn’t an age. It’s an experience”, midlife success coach Cat Coluccio assures us. And we get to find how that plays out in seven sections. Awakening and Releasing sound too New Age for me, so I start with Creating Space and its theme of decluttering.

That’s something I could sound as earnest about as Coluccio. “Clutter is not just the stuff on your floor – it’s anything that stands between you and the life you want to be living.” Now that’s a grand statement. If the reader makes it through a series of confronting questions about the state of their desk, wardrobe, or benchtop, they are rewarded with a list of step-by-step actions to take.

Decluttering is hard work – whether we’re talking physical, digital, or mental. Coluccio makes no bones about it, which makes this section alone worth the price of the book.

Ditch the Perfectionism! is also a useful section. It contains well-aimed advice at a philosophy that sounds admirable but is actually a disguise for something less so. Such are the delusions of midlife.

Being 70+, I approached Coluccio’s midlife hacks with scepticism. Would her suggestions come too late to save me from my lifelong accumulation of letters, photos, and diaries?

A hack is supposed to be a shortcut, but there are no shortcuts here. Not Coluccio’s problem – she’s written the book – it’s up to us to take the action.