literally_adele's reviews
23 reviews

On the surface, it’s a modern retelling of the Demeter and Persephone myth, but it’s so much more. At its heart, The Peach Season is a story about relationships. It explores the deep love between parents and children, the unique and sometimes difficult bonds between siblings, and the heady blush of first love. The play also delves into grief and resilience, rebuilding after loss, and its effect on our life and relationships. A central conflict in the play is the tension between protection and independence—how far can a parent go to shield their child before they must let them grow on their own?

Oswald’s writing style is immersive without being overly poetic, capturing the essence of contemporary Australia. However, the true strength of The Peach Season lies in its characters. While some minor characters feel a little cliché, the main cast is relatable and deeply human. This is a beautifully written play that balances drama with humour, heartache with hope. It acknowledges that life is messy and unpredictable yet still offers a sense of resilience and strength. The characters stay with you long after the final scene and it's made clear that there’s no 'happily ever after', with the play ending on a hopeful note, but not an idealistic one.

Would I watch a stage production of this play? Absolutely. And I'd recommend it to anyone who asks.

Just can't seem to get into it at this time. I'll try again another time. 

I picked this book up because the topic sounded interesting - who isn't down for a good history debunking? Unfortunately, this book reads more like hearsay from a friend of a friend. The doesn't appear to have done a ton of research, apparently relying on a single source for each chapter. Some of the chapters cover interesting people, but I figure I'm better off reading the books he read. Hopefully they'll have bibliographies for further reading. 

Nick Cardy: The Artist at War is part art collection, part memoir. Some of you may be familiar with Cardy’s work at DC Comics, but this book shows that his talent extends beyond the realm of graphic novels. His artwork is nothing short of incredible, demonstrating Cardy's skill even under the most demanding of circumstances – a soldier at war. His ability to convey intricate details, even in a simple sketch, results in exceptional pieces that leave a lasting impression.

Cardy's illustrations capture the essence of war, from chaotic battle scenes to the quiet moments of reflection. It's a powerful and immersive journey through the eyes of an artist whose art breathes life into the experiences of the average soldier. The cover on this book could be a bit more appealing, but it gets the point across, and readers are left in no doubt as to what they’re getting into.

My final thoughts are that I enjoyed the poignant and emotive nature of the artwork within these pages. This book stands as a testament to Cardy's artistry and serves as a captivating journey through the lens of a skilled artist amidst the chaos of war, while the accompanying stories provide valuable context, enriching the overall experience. I probably won’t add this to my permanent collection, but whether you appreciate art, history, graphic novels, or all three, Nick Cardy: The Artist at War is worth perusing.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Kidnapping; alcohol; animal death; murder; attempted murder; death (including of a loved one); infertility; violence; torture; war; incest; child abandonment; slavery; cannibalism; racist connotations; sexual abuse; extreme misogyny.

Rating: 6/10

Grimm Tales for Young and Old presents a collection of tales by the Brothers Grimm, creatively reimagined by Philip Pullman, author of His Dark Materials. Unlike the familiar bedtime stories of our childhood, Pullman takes us back to the darker roots of these tales. This collection is not intended for bedtime reading with children.

The book begins with an insightful introduction discussing the nature and origin of fairy tales, and each story is followed by a brief explanatory summary. Pullman’s easy writing style lends a refreshing twist to these timeless stories captivating the reader with their unique charm and ensuring accessibility for a modern audience.

These stories, however, mirror the values of their time, portraying women fixated on bearing children, cruel stepmothers, and men constantly falling in in love at first sight with beautiful women who are gifted to them by their fathers; hell, in Snow White, the woman doesn’t even need to be breathing for the prince to fall in love with her beauty!

Contrary to the title's implication of tales for the young, these narratives are not suitable for children. Pullman reminds us that the original tales served as cautionary fireside stories, exploring the darker aspects of the human soul, and providing warnings about the perils of the world. For this reason, the tales in this collection are better suited for mature readers, and I urge you to take note of the trigger warnings before embarking on your journey into the depths of these pages.

First of all, let me just say, I really dig the cover on this book. It's simple, but elegant; pictures of dinner paraphernalia set against a blue backdrop evoking images of family dinners at Nannas. I love that the blurb is set within the image of the cookie jar, working with the design instead of dominating it. My complements to Allison Colpoys, who is responsible for the design.

The cover sets the tone for the book. Grace's Table is a literary gem that skilfully weaves a narrative around the complexities of grief, anger, blame, redemption, and family. Piper’s voice is almost poetic, providing vivid descriptions that contrast the beauty of Grace's memories with the starkness and immediacy of her present reality. Transitions between past and present are fluid, creating an engaging and immersive journey into Grace's life.

This is very much a character-driven novel, with Susan’s hero worship of her father and strained relationship with Grace paralleling Grace’s fond memories of her own father and the troubled relationship she had with her mother. The exploration of family dynamics is powerful. Piper draws us into Grace’s life with such ease, she feels like a friend by the end of the book.

The thematic exploration of food adds another layer to the narrative, highlighting how much of our lives and memories are intertwined with it. Piper uses food to evoke strong emotions, both positive and negative, forming a poignant connection to the past, and displaying the wide array of personalities among Grace’s friends and families.

I won’t discuss the ending in detail because, spoilers. I will say that it is powerful and highly emotional, though it did feel slightly rushed after such a long build-up. The slow start might deter some readers, but I encourage you to persevere; you will surely be rewarded with a rich and immersive story that leaves a lasting impression, turning the ordinary act of sharing a meal into a profound exploration of the complexities of life, love, loss, and family.

Wordslut by Amanda Montell is a captivating exploration of the intricate relationship between language and societal attitudes towards women. It’s always nice to stumble across an unexpected gem, and finding this book is one such occasion. The cover's striking colour and standout title may have reeled me in, but it was the intriguing subject matter and Montell's accessible writing style which kept me reading.

Far from the radical feminist manifesto I had feared, Wordslut is witty, engaging, and well-researched. Montell displays a particular talent for making complex linguistic concepts comprehensible to a broader audience, challenging readers to contemplate their language use and question societal norms. Montell prompts readers to rethink language not merely as a reflection but as a potent influencer of societal dynamics and attitudes towards women. This book is not a comprehensive treatise on sociolinguistics, but it’s not meant to be. It is an introduction of the topic to the masses, and, in this, it certainly serves its purpose.

Montell delves into some polarising topics, with her take on political correctness, in particular, likely provoking strong reactions, especially among conservatives. Political correctness, she tells us, ‘…does not endanger our freedom of expression at all. The only thing it actually threatens is the notion that we can separate our word choices from our politics – that how we choose to communicate doesn’t say something deeper about who we are…What rubs people the wrong way about political correctness is not that they can’t use certain words anymore, it’s that political neutrality is no longer an option.’ Nevertheless, publishing a book on such topics as those discussed in Wordslut inevitably involves stepping on someone's toes; it's impossible to avoid offense.

A helpful addition to future additions would be the inclusion of a glossary and reference list. Needing to flick back through the book when I forgot an acronym, or qualification was an annoyance, and I often seek out further reading on the topics that interest me. While in-text references are included, an easily accessible list at the back would have been more convenient.

Minor inconveniences aside, Wordslut skilfully navigates the intricate role language plays in shaping our attitudes, beliefs, and behaviours, introducing sociolinguistics to the layperson, and encouraging readers to question social norms and the role of their own linguistic choices in shaping who they are. Whether or not you agree with Montell’s arguments, I encourage you to read what she has to say.

 The cover of A Haunting Place is a bit "meh," but the blurb offers a journey through some of the most 'haunting and haunted' locations worldwide, which I thought would be interesting. I knew I probably shouldn't read it at night, but let's face it, I absolutely did—because who can resist a good scare, right? 

The black-and-white photos interspersed throughout add a vivid dimension to the tales. The photo of the Manchac Wetlands in the USA is particularly beautiful. There were some occasional inconsistencies in style, such as random changes in tense, heading style, and fonts which threw me off, but I did love the occasional injection of dad jokes which added a bit of light-hearted humour. 

But, dang, the narrative lens through which the stories were told got under my skin. The constant portrayal of ghosts and spirits as inherently evil, juxtaposed with an exclusively positive depiction of the church, felt overtly judgmental, and lumping practitioners of witchcraft with the 'homeless, drug addicts, [and] vagrants' was just plain annoying. Actually, come to think of it, this list seems overly critical of the homeless, as well. 

On the bright side, I appreciated the inclusion of less common places like Auschwitz and The Gap, which is a refreshing departure from typical haunting collections. The abundance of Aussie locations is also a nice touch. 

I was honestly disappointed by A Haunting Place. Like most books of this nature, it is a fun mix of ghost stories and some truly fascinating history, but some places, as interesting as they were, seemed crammed in because of their tragic past, and the heavy religious bias turned me off. Some other reviewers pointed out the lack of referencing, and that many of these stories read more like hearsay – stories from a friend of a friend of a friend – and I completely agree. I expected more from a 'seasoned, well-respected, award-winning journalist.' Overall, a missed opportunity for what could have been a much more enjoyable read.