Bred of Devon

I've always had a fondness for those books of local legends that you find in Tourist Information Centres across the UK. One of the best areas for such stories has to be the West Country, so during a recent trip I read 'Devonshire Folk Tales' by professional storyteller Michael Dacre.

'Devonshire Folk Tales' is a joyful romp through stories of yore from one of the country's most

'Devonshire Folk Tales'
by Michael Dacre
(History Press, 2010)

beautiful and boisterous counties.  From the giant origins of these lands to encounters with fairies good and bad, to the nefarious activities of wicked rogues and ghastly encounters with ghosts and ghouls, not to mention much mischief of a truly devilish sort, this short book covers a lot of ground without leaving the confines of this enchanting county.

The worry with reading a book like this is that it's possible to get swept up in it and begin to wonder what kind of superstitious back water you're going to find yourself paddling around in.  Fortunately, Dacre's tone remains mischievous throughout, managing to thrill rather than chill the reader.  No sleepless nights here, thank you!

The variety of topics is excellent, as is the passion with which the stories are told.  Dacre clearly loves both folk tales and the county that inspired them, not to mention the people that tell/told them.  Such hand-me-down myths and legends are a dialect all their own and should be treasured as much as any regional accent or words.  Through this book, Dacre preserves and shares not just the voices of generations long gone, but more recent enthusiasts and it's hard not to be swept up in the sense of community and fun that comes with such storytelling.

I would recommend 'Devonshire Folk Tales' for anyone who wants a locally themed book to dip into during their visit to the county.  It gives a glimpse beyond the stereotypical cream teas and buckets and spades to the character of an area that is so much more than a tourist trap.

Now, what next...

Suspicious Minds

I've finally got around to reading another book in Philippa Gregory's Cousins' War series, 'The White Princess'.  About time, I'm only about four books behind...

'The White Princess' sweeps the veil of Tudor propaganda aside and suggests an alternative story of the dynasty's founding couple, Henry VII, only child of the ambitious Lancastrian Margaret Beaufort, and Elizabeth of York, eldest daughter of the late King Edward IV and sister to the famed Princes in the Tower.  When her usurper uncle Richard III is defeated at the Battle of Bosworth Field, Elizabeth once again finds herself the unhappy victim of another dramatic change of circumstance, one of many that has seen the wheel of fortune turn her from princess to pauper and back again many times. With few options open to her, Elizabeth is forced to become a pawn in the power games between the new rulers and her mother, the widowed Elizabeth Woodville, While Henry VII and Margaret Beaufort weave a public story of strength, unity and authority, Elizabeth sees the threadbare truth of a family wracked with fear and eaten away by suspicion, a situation that reaches breaking point when a pretender marches on the kingdom claiming to be Elizabeth's missing younger brother, Richard of York...

The difficulty with Philippa Gregory is that all of her work is of such a consistently high standard that each book really has to work hard to stand out from the others.  I'll admit that I haven't enjoyed many in the Cousins' War series so far because I think they often suffer from two common historical novel issues.  Number one: if you have an aristocratic female lead, then they don't get to do much, which can get quite frustrating, especially if they don't hear about what's going on in the outside world through a spy network or letter writing relations.  Number two: the writer is constrained by having to hit certain known historical events to retain authenticity, but consequently loses some control over pace and don't have full creative freedom.  The minute a historical novelist of  Gregory's supreme talent is able to flex her muscles with a less well known historical figure, the difference is obvious and, for me, the results are always better.

The strength of 'The White Princess' is that it provides a different perspective on the traditional story of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York.  Usually portrayed as the rather romantic way that the Wars of the Roses ended and a genuine love match, Gregory successfully suggests an alternative view that seems more plausible and reminds the reader not to take everything they think they know about the past for granted.

Overall, this is a worthy addition to the Cousins' War series of books and hasn't stopped me wanting to read more, but unlike 'The Other Boleyn Girl', 'The Other Queen' or 'The Lady of the Rivers', I doubt I'll want to read this again.

Now, what next...?

Related Posts

'The Lady of the Rivers' (Cousins' War Book I)
'The White Queen' (Cousins' War Book II)
'The Red Queen' (Cousins' War Book III)
'The Kingmaker's Daughter' (Cousins' War Book IV)

'The Virgin's Lover'
'The Other Queen'

The Many Ripples of Terry Pratchett

I'm scared of Terry Pratchett's books.  So many people I know have recommended his work to me over the years - people I respect and like - that I've found it impossible to pick up one of his Discworld novels without feeling a weight of expectation upon it.  Consequently, it feels too heavy, I drop it and then scamper off to find something less intimidating.  In the end, I decided to ease myself in with 'A Slip of the Keyboard', a collection of his non-fiction.

'A Slip of the Keyboard'
by Terry Pratchett
(Corgi Books, 2015)

'A Slip of the Keyboard' by Terry Pratchett is a collection of articles, introductions and speeches reflecting various aspects of Pratchett's life and career.  We hear from the writer, the technology lover, the science fiction fan, the schoolboy, the worldwide phenomenon, the industry PR, the Posterior Cortical Atrophy sufferer and the assisted dying campaigner.  Some pieces are short, some are long, but all provide insight into an author as pragmatic as his worlds seem fanciful.

I found this both a very satisfying and heartbreaking read.  It made me laugh, it made me cry and it made me think, which is pretty much all you can ask for from any book really.  Pratchett had his favourite anecdotes and phrases, which does make the book a bit repetitive at times, but, for me, this didn't take away from the overall effect of the writing.  The only thing I would've liked added was a press release from his days with the Central Electricity Generating Board, but that's more from my nerdy curiosity as a former Press Officer than a feeling that it would complete the book.

As 'A Slip of the Keyboard' progresses, it feels like layers of the writer's character are being peeled back, until by the end of the book, (which brings us up to the last few year's of Pratchett's life when he finds himself an unexpected figurehead for Alzheimer's disease and the assisted dying campaign) we see his outrage and raw determination to change a system he sees as archaic, wrong and cruel.  I'm sure that many people feel he died far too soon and it's a shame that this cause lost such a powerful and eloquent spokesperson, leaving the debate with no one else able to bring the issue of assisted death to the fore with such force and knowledge.

Although I can't comment for fans of Discworld, I do feel this is a book for writers and people interested in people.  It lifts the veil a bit on this particular writer's life in a way that doesn't seem to happen very often, talking more about the practicalities of book signings and conventions rather than going over the old cliches of technique and style.

So, am I still frightened of Terry Pratchett's books?  Certainly not as much as I was before.  What I really feel now is bereft that I didn't take the plunge before Pratchett's death.  And if I feel like that, I dread to think what Pratchett's long term fans must have felt like when he passed away.  On the other hand, I have literally a lifetime of books to look forward to.  So there is hope yet.

Postscript

Around the time I finished 'A Slip of the Keyboard', the BBC broadcast 'Back in Black', a charmingly idiosyncratic documentary about the life and death of Terry Pratchett, which worked really well as a companion piece to this book.  I'm so glad I watched it but I'm also glad I waited until I'd finished the book to do so.  It's hilarious and heartrending and I thoroughly recommend it.  At time of writing, it's also still available on the BBCiPlayer.  You lucky people!

'Back to Black' Terry Pratchett Documentary

Post-Postscript

By a weird twist of fate, I've just discovered that I'm writing this on the second anniversary of Terry Pratchett's death.  I'm not sure what it means, or even if it means anything.  Just another ripple I suppose...