Book thoughts – Iris Murdoch – “A Severed Head”

April 18, 2026

Liz Dexter Book reviews, Iris Murdoch in my 50s , , 11 Comments

Leading up to the Iris Murdoch Society Conference in 2028, but also because it’s something I like to do in every decade of my life, I’m rereading all of Iris Murdoch’s novels in order once again. The last time I did this, in 2017-2019, I ran a readalong project, and the time before, I read them with a group of friends: this is a solo effort, just to allow myself to think about how I find them as I move into my 50s (and age past a lot of the main characters!). So I’m writing more notes than recaps of the novels: if you want the deeper dive, please take a look at the Readalong post and comments for this one. My earlier review on here from 2008 (which is slightly less useless than the one for The Bell) is here for completeness’ sakes. I read my original copy which I suspect I bought in 1993-ish this time, seen bottom left. I don’t have a note of when I bought my rather marvellous Penguin paperback.

A couple of notes: I read this one immediately after “The Bell” because I wanted to fit it into Kaggsysbookishramblings‘ and Simon Stuck-in-a-Book‘s 1961 Week, which I have obviously managed to do (I was also slightly behind on my IM rereading pans so this catches me up).

And rather pleasingly, I found this receipt between pages 72 and 73 dating from 3 May 1993. I can only assume this was around the time I bought the book; I’d originally read my friend and neighbour Mary’s copy in 1986 and got round to buying up all the paperbacks that were out so far from the late 80s onwards. I bought 12 white baps for the price 6 cost now, some pick-and-mix and some cat litter, from Selly Oak Sainsburys (which itself is no longer there, though exists in a new incarnation a little way from its original site); I was living on Reservoir Road, Selly Oak, at the time, the year after I graduated from my first degree.

Iris Murdoch – “A Severed Head”

(my original 1993? copy)

Opening with Martin Lynch-Gibbon discussing his wife Antonia with his mistress Georgie, we are thrown into a whirl of relationships and deceit. Martin is supposed to be gentle and passive but is full of inner rage and is not a narrator with whom we identify and who we care for. With a small closed cast of Martin and his brother and sister, Antonia, psychoanalyst Palmer Anderson and his half-sister Honor Klein, along with Georgie (with three employees at Martin’s firm taking minor background roles), this feels claustrophobic and gothic (the first time we really get this, but it will come back with a vengeance). I first read this aged 14, and it was my first Murdoch: I still have no idea what I would have made of it then and how it hooked me into her work!

Thoughts on themes

Painted ladies / ageing hags

Georgie and Honor are unpainted and unadorned; Antonia is rather cruelly described as ageing, even “ravaged”, and “I noticed the rouge on her cheeks and how elderly she had become” (p. 164), although Martin often finds this increases his affection for her, harking back to Jake in “Under the Net”.

Sudden revelations

Nothing in front of art, but Martin is hit with a love revelation I won’t go into to not spoil the plot.

Reading Iris Murdoch post-#MeToo

Georgie is probably our candidate for a saint: there aren’t any non-masculine soft men in the book (Martin is described as soft but he’s relentlessly egotistical and self-obsessed).

Women aren’t treated well and Martin complains of adding a third woman to deal with to the two he already has; Antonia is afraid of Palmer. Martin is used to controlling Antonia with “the customary pressure of [his] will” (p. 25). But Martin is infantilised throughout, identifying his wife with his mother and her and her lover with his parents.

Mid-life crises?

Martin is in his 40s, Antonia five years older and Palmer a little older still, so it could be claimed that it’s all one big mid-life crisis, especially as Martin swaps his older wife for a younger model originally.

Alternative idea: set pieces

There aren’t really any big set pieces in this one, sadly. The journey to and from the station to collect Honor in the fog is the only one.

What’s changed in my reading this time?

I had forgotten what happens to Georgie, and the ending – how on earth as I’ve read this so many times? I remembered the main characters, the fog, the Gothic quality of it all and the plot up to a certain point.

What has stayed the same?

I still seem to find it quite glamorous and sophisticated, even while knowing that it’s a muddle and a mess and no one really comes out of it well! But I suppose my first reaction will always stay with me to an extent.

Links to my life and way of being

As in “The Sandcastle”, Antonia comments that “Happiness is not the point”, although I don’t subscribe to her need for relentless change and improvement (but I do like to continue to learn). Georgie doesn’t make a fuss and comments, “It’s only me,” but I’m not sure I picked that up from her.

As with my previous, this is my thinking aloud, and it might bet that these posts are only interesting to Iris Murdoch afficionados, I don’t know. If it’s disappointed you, go back to the first of the earlier links I posted and read a proper review. Back soon (but it won’t be quite the very next review!) with the next one!

Book thoughts – Iris Murdoch – “The Bell”

April 16, 2026

Liz Dexter Book reviews, Iris Murdoch in my 50s , , 9 Comments

Leading up to the Iris Murdoch Society Conference in 2028, and because it something I like to do in every decade of my life, I’m rereading all of Iris Murdoch’s novels in order, again. The last time I did this, 2017-2019, I ran a big readalong project, and the time before, I read them with a group of friends: this one is a solo effort, just to allow myself to think about how I find them as I move into my 50s (and age past a lot of the main characters!). So I’m writing more notes than recaps of the novels: if you want the deeper dive, please take a look at the Readalong post and comments for this one. My earlier review on here from 2008 (probably not worth looking at as it’s so short) is here for completeness’ sakes. I read my original copy bought in the 1980s, seen in the middle of the bottom row. I didn’t record when and where I bought the two older paperbacks.

Iris Murdoch – “The Bell”

(my original 1980s copy)

Dora is travelling to Imber Court, a lay community associated with an abbey full of nuns, to be reunited with her husband, Paul, after running away from him. She inadvertently travels with two other members of the community, Michael, who has inherited Imber and is using it as a refuge from a life marred by an old scandal, and Toby, a young man who is doing a summer retreat before university. More community members are encountered, and nuns, and the plans for both a human and a bell postulant to enter the abbey. Rotating between Dora, Michael and Toby’s viewpoints, we see the workings of the community (and, of course, its precise layout and relation to the lake and the abbey) and the discovery of an ancient, fabled bell in the lake. As Toby and Dora work to rescue it, both think over and work through changes that have recently happened in their emotional lives. The plot culminates in a scene of farce as the new bell tries to enter the abbey.

Thoughts on themes

Painted ladies / ageing hags

Dora appears as the ultimate woman in Toby’s young thoughts; she’s attractive but not painted. Mrs Mark is hairy, freckled and wide-faced and has solid calves, so another natural woman, if not painted in a good light. Catherine’s hair is all over the place. So not really a theme here.

Sudden revelations

Dora has our first art-based revelation when she sees the paintings in the National Gallery in a new light when she’s there escaping for a day from Imber (and Noel).

Reading Iris Murdoch post-#MeToo

My candidates for a saint this time are Sister Clare, the swimming nun, and Peter Topglass, careful, quiet observer – the more masculine, bearded or generally posh/army Mark and James are not in the running. Noel, though surely not a saint, is a harbour in a storm for Dora, and is fat, pale, passive and nondemanding, the opposite of Paul’s moustachioed, academic rigour. So the non-masculine saint is still a theme. Michael is viewed with loving kindness and forgiveness by the authorial voice.

There’s not actually too much MeToo stuff in this one. Paul is a horrible, controlling misogynist, but he’s seen clearly as such, it’s commented that he shouldn’t have married Dora just as much as she shouldn’t have married him, and his behaviour isn’t condoned. Mrs Mark has internalised the patriarchy and expects women and men to take on traditional roles, but that’s it, really.

Mid-life crises?

Is the whole setup of Imber Michael’s mid-life crisis? Not sure. There’s a lot of performative masculinity (even Patchway denigrates a machine which isn’t man enough for the job), but not a mid-life crisis as such.

Alternative idea: set pieces

Two great set pieces here. The removal of the bell from the lake is full of Murdoch’s trademark detail, and the final day of celebration is also a classic set piece including farce (it’s also reminiscent of Rain’s car going into the river in The Sandcastle). I found it pertinent that Toby is fulfilled by engineering – “The mechanical details of the plan aroused in Toby a sort of ecstasy. It was all so difficult and yet so exquisitely possible” (p. 215) – while I don’t like to make assumptions about authorial intentions, and IM herself lived in a house that actually fell down through lack of maintenance, and her saints often live in chaos, it feels like this is important to her, too

What’s changed in my reading this time?

Dora seems to be portrayed more kindly this time around: although there are some barbs about her not checking timetables, etc., she is described approvingly as living in the moment. I found James, Mark and Peter to be much hazier figures this time around, with only Michael, Toby and Dora (and perhaps Mrs Mark) in full focus. I’d always thought that all the “brotherhood” were equally balanced, so that’s a bit odd. I’d forgotten some of the ordering of the plot, with certain things happening nearer to the end than I’d thought.

What has stayed the same?

I had a good recall of the plot and characters. I remembered that it’s only Toby who uses the word “rebarbative”. I still retained my view that Michael is an occasionally weak and misguided but generally well-intentioned man who is not a predatory paedophile: I was wondering if this would have changed to fit more the views of my book group readers in my study of a good few years ago, with my lens of #MeToo, but no, I can’t see it. The Headmaster at the school and James Tayper Pace both acknowledge that the stories they’re told might not be true, and I struggle to see this as the patriarchy closing ranks, although you could do. I thought I might be more amenable to Mrs Mark this time around but she’s a monster with her little suggestions and constant correction of Dora.

Links to my life and way of being

I didn’t really get any links to how I’ve learned to live my life through Iris Murdoch’s books in this one. Maybe it would be odd if I’d taken something from each of them!

As with my previous, this is my thinking aloud, and it might bet that these posts are only interesting to Iris Murdoch afficionados, I don’t know. If it’s disappointed you, go back to the first of the earlier links I posted and read a proper review. Back soon with the next one!

A book for #1961Club – D. E. Stevenson – “Bel Lamington”

April 13, 2026

Liz Dexter Book reviews, ReadIndies, Reading challenges , 28 Comments

It’s Kaggsysbookishramblings‘ and Simon Stuck-in-a-Book‘s new Year Club week starting today, and the year in question this week is 1961. I do have Iris Murdoch’s “A Severed Head” to read from that year, but getting it read and reviewed has to come after finishing “The Bell” so not sure I’ll get to it. However, Victoria at Dean Street Press very kindly came to my rescue and sent me a proof copy of D. E. Stevenson’s “Bel Lamington”, from their Furrowed Middlebrow imprint, which I of course thoroughly enjoyed reading.

D. E. Stevenson – “Bel Lamington”

(4 April 2026, from the publisher)

Louise ran the house, answered the telephone and made notes of her father’s appointments. It was surprising to find that Louise was so capable for Bel had always thought her a butterfly – she had seemed a butterfly at school – but Bel had a theory that people don’t change, they merely develop. Who would think that the lovely fragile blossom upon an apple-tree would develop into apples? It was almost incredible when you thought about it – but so it was. The germ of the apple was there form the very beginning … and the same with Louise who had been fragile fairy-like blossom and was now sound fruit, sweet and juicy. (p. 60)

Bel has been living in a flat in London for a little while now – orphaned at an early age, she had lived with her aunt in the countryside but when her aunt died, she had to make her own way in the world. She’s working for an interesting importing company complete with an active dock on the Thames, and has just been promoted to be the secretary of the Junior Partner, Mr Brownlee (to the horror and fury of the other secretaries and their horrible boss), and she’s made a little garden on the flat roof outside her window, and things seem to get more interesting when she meets an artist who climbs over the rooftops and insists on including her in a painting. But then he proves selfish and shifty and, when Mr Brownlee, who is rather a dear and encourages Bel’s interest in the business, goes away and she befriends and helps the Senior Partner’s son, who is coming into the business, the third partner gets very shirty indeed and work life becomes more difficult just as home life has gone flat.

But then, hooray, Bel has recently re-encountered her old school friend Louise and her doctor father and gets the opportunity to take a trip with them up to the Borders of Scotland. There, she meets all sorts of lovely people, including Jock, Mamie, James and Rhoda from the Vittoria Cottage trilogy (I checked this information on the very useful page about the connections between DES’s books here). Hoping to stay on in the open air and countryside and not to have to return to London, Bel looks for a job. But who is this coming striding across the heather to find her?

What a lovely, joyful, detailed and kind book this is. I loved Bel as a character, resourceful but a bit innocent, and the sisterly friendship she develops with Louise is a delight.

“Bel Lamington” will be out in July 2026 and you can read about it here in the meantime. Note that, as Victoria told me during Dean Street December last year, Amazon remains an important outlet which is why they include those links on the website, but their ebooks are sold via all major online platforms, e.g. KOBO, Booknook, and others. In addition, their titles can be found on bookseller websites like Waterstones, Blackwells and Barnes & Noble, as well as independent bookshops.

Three new reads from authors I already knew – Emily Kerr – “Blind Date with a Book”, Debbie Macomber – “Chasing the Clouds Away” and Jane Linfoot – “The Cornish Beach Hut Wedding”

April 11, 2026

Liz Dexter Book reviews , 12 Comments

Three novels I requested from NetGalley because they were from authors I’d previously enjoyed, and they had some odd Bookish Beck Serendipity Moments linking all three. First of all, they all had a main character whose business was going downhill (not the best theme for me as my editing and transcription business slowly goes downhill thanks to the incursion of AI into the industries I work in, but maybe it feels relatable to the authors!); they also all featured a more well-off man and a poorer woman as the main characters; and all also featured beloved grandmothers!

Emily Kerr – “Blind Date with a Book”

(27 February 2026, NetGalley)

Two male voices tried to stop me, two guys appearing out of nowhere as if some flash alert had gone round the Man Network saying ‘Woman in mismatched undies about to jump into slightly mucky canal’. I ignored them and lowered myself into the tepid water.

Molly has taken over her grandmother’s canal boat and turned it into a bookshop, the Oxford Bookship, but she’s struggling and the costs of mooring it are getting higher. Just as she starts to have ideas for new events – including a blind date with a book party – she gets a grumpy, posh new neighbour, Jack, playing at running a floating wine bar; not only that, but she’s warned against him by the cheeky and affable new boat vlogger on the scene, who’s dating her best friend.

But, in this Pride and Prejudice-themed read, all is not what it seems, and gradually Jack comes through – and learns how to steer a boat, too. There’s a good dog (with some mild peril that is resolved of course). I think I’ve read all of Emily’s books and there is a fun reference to “Take a Chance on Greece” as well as the main characters from “Read Between the Lines” popping up, a nice touch linking her books together.

Thank you to One More Chapter for offering me this book to read via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “Blind Date with a Book” was published on 10 April 2026.

Debbie Macomber – “Chasing the Clouds Away”

(12 January 2026, NetGalley)

The Ritz was too much. Everything Chase did was too much. It was one of the big differences between them. Maisy and her family lived frugally, whereas Chase was accustomed to and expected only the best of everything.

Maisy had to give up her nursing studies to help run the family jewellery business – which is going down the pan now it doesn’t have her late father as the salesman. Her older brother has smartened up his act and has an apprenticeship, her mum is working as hard as possible and her younger brother just wants to play in the Little League. Grandma meanwhile is in assisted living being pursued by a lovely older man. When Maisy meets banker Chase on a flight to arrange his estranged mother’s funeral and helps him out with a lift, then attends the mother’s funeral when he doesn’t, they become entwined and fall for each other. Although he starts to do good turns for people, her influence doesn’t stop him trying to save every situation with money, and their fledgling relationship falters when she won’t let him save their business, then thinks he has. Meanwhile he has some issues with his ex’s father and resolves his own family stuff.

Entertaining and wholesome enough but a bit simplistic maybe in these days of more complex lives.

Thank you to Sphere for approving me to read this book via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “Chasing the Clouds Away” is published on 28 April 2026.

Jane Linfoot – “The Cornish Beach Hut Wedding”

(30 March 2026, NetGalley)

I’ve always been easy-going and dealt with whatever life has thrown at me as it came up. But if Lando’s around, I can’t afford to waft about and let things happen to me. However unnatural it feels, I need to sort out a strategy. Because if I’m not the one in control, it suddenly feels as if anything could happen.

I’ve enjoyed Jane’s interlinked series of St Aidan’s books, including the Little Wedding Shop ones – this has some serious themes, but was done really well. Maeve and (Or)Lando had a moment ten years ago and her beloved daughter was the result, but things didn’t go well for the two of them at first and Maeve was terrified Lando would swoop in with his entitled attitude and posh family and take Nemmie. So she stayed in her chaotic house, with mum, brother, stepdad, step brother and sister and foster kids, and did her best to keep going. But now Lando’s suddenly back and in a twist, is Jess from the wedding shop’s nephew, so they are thrown together uncomfortably doing themed shoots around the town to promote the shop. Maeve needs the money and her best friend and family support her – apart from her brother, whose business is – you guessed it – going down the drain and taking half the builders and suppliers in town with it. And the beach hut – that’s Maeve’s grandmothers, her refuge, but now perhaps the newest wedding venue in town!

This has depth to it, with lots of characters from previous books popping up – even Betty and her pony from “The Cosy Croissant Cafe” – and Jess talking about how the Little Wedding Shop coped during the lockdowns, and it all moves towards a very satisfying conclusion.

Thank you to One More Chapter for offering me this book to read via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “The Cornish Beach Hut Wedding” is published on 30 April 2026.

Two books by Black women authors featuring protagonists with horrible bosses – Marie-Claire Amuah – “Sister of Mine” and Amy DuBois Barnett – “If I Ruled the World”

April 5, 2026

Liz Dexter Book reviews, Social justice - gender sex sexuality, social justice - race , 12 Comments

I’m sharing two really good fiction reads with you today which are both by Black women authors and both feature protagonists with horrible bosses. Will they escape them and have happier lives as a result? In other ways the books are quite different: a story of family secrets and going home and one of ruthless ambition and poor choices in men. But I can happily recommend both.

Marie-Claire Amuah – “Sister of Mine”

(17 March 2026, NetGalley)

We pass a group of men engaged in an animated discussion of politics; the subject elicits loud voices and big gestures. A barber cutting hair by evening light suspends his clippers mid-air while his client shares news that causes his mouth and eyes to open wide in disbelief, half-shaved head shining under the glare of a single light bulb. A man broadcasts the sale of bath nets and salted peanuts with impressive marketing skills. Another does his best to woo a woman engaged in the business of selling coconuts. On the street corner, a group of teenage boys snacking on roasted plantain showcase dance moves and body popping skills to Afrobeat. A woman in her twenties wearing a pink Lycra dress and poorly attached wig commands the attention and comments of passers-by: ‘Brazilian virgin hair.’

Sika gets the opportunity to go to Ghana, where her mother and beloved father, who died the day she was born, were born and she was, too. But she and her mum have lived in London ever since. Now she has the chance to meet her aunty and her mum’s best friend, Auntie Larjey, whose big party they’re due to attend. Experiencing believable culture shock as they drive through Accra’s chaotic streets to visit another old friend of her mum’s, Sika nevertheless feels mostly comfortable and at home, although her aunt has a weird relationship with a dodgy preacher who runs overstimulating services that force fainting and revelations onto the congregation.

Things are going well, and Sika has even met a nice young man, with their dates showcasing the modern, sophisticated side of Accra and the wonderful nature that can be found outside the city, but then she overhears something at the party which overturns everything she’s previously believed about her family. Will she be able to heal the fractures that appear in her primary relationships? While all this is going on, Sika is dealing with her horrendous boss at their marketing agency, who pimps young women out to horrible potential clients and expects unquestioning loyalty and work at all times, her only ally her kind colleague Julian. It feels like Sika might be about to snap, and when she falls ill thanks to an untreated mosquito bite, it’s time for things to get honest, and maybe resolved. I loved this complicated and realistic novel and hoped for a good outcome for Sika and her mum.

Thank you to OneWorld for making this book available via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “Sister of Mine” is published on 9 April 2026.

Amy DuBois Barnett – “If I Ruled the World” (6 March 2026, NetGalley)

I was getting sucked into a fever dream that was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, while my former life seemed less and less familiar. I leaned my head against the worn leather set and closed my eyes as TLC’s “Unpretty” came on the radio, the lyrics hitting home in a new way. When the taxi turned down Grand Street and pulled up in front of Sofie’s Cafe, I realized how long it had been since I’d been here. I stopped before opening the cafe door, listening to the JD mix ’80s disco hits and willing my body to relax before I faced the music inside.

Remember those big blockbuster novels about a woman fighting her way to business success from Jackie Collins and the like in the 1980s and 90s? This is the version you want to read about a Black woman in New York at the turn of the millennium getting to grips with urban magazine publishing and a cut-throat world in which the enemy she made by (finally) refusing his unequal relationship threatens her at every corner.

Nikki Rose is the only Black woman working at a high-end style magazine when she’s told “Black girls don’t sell magazines” after suggesting a cover star for the next issue. She jumps ship to Sugar, a magazine for young Black women which she can see isn’t respecting or serving its audience well. But she also jumps from a nightmare White woman boss, who throws a cocktail at the wall when she gives in her notice, to a nightmare Black woman boss who, yes, points out her errors but has made plenty of her own.

She starts seeing another controlling bad boy and we’re worrying for her when her group of loyal friends stage an intervention and she starts to see how she’s got caught up in a world of partying and glitz which isn’t really her. Oh, and there’s a lovely, solid, kind man in the background who sticks up for her properly against a dodgy rapper in a marvellous scene, so we hope she’ll see sense there, too. Nikki’s academic mum and dad are nicely drawn and her friendship group is marvellous.

The author has a storied background in Black and other high-end magazines herself, and that shows in the level of detail given about how Nikki and her team work to turn Sugar around: apparently she kept the manuscript in a drawer for a decade but the slightly retro timeline works really well, with communication through old-style phones and pagers making breakdowns in contact more easy to believe. Another excellent read.

Thank you to Simon & Schuster for offering me this book to read via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “If I Ruled the World” is published on 14 April 2026.

Two quite different memoirs – Alice Amelia – “How Korean Corn Dogs Changed My Life” and Margaret Drabble – “The Great Good Places”

April 3, 2026

Liz Dexter Book reviews, Social justice - gender sex sexuality , 25 Comments

Two books reviewed today which I read last month but come out this month. Although the authors are at different ends of their lives and are writing about different places, and have different literary careers and reputations, there are still truths to be read in each about family and love and place.

Alice Amelia – “How Korean Corn Dogs Changed my Life: Finding Love, Fame and Myself in Seoul”

(13 February 2026, NetGalley)

With the ‘snow app’, Korea’s answer to Facetune, you can make yourself into a completely different person at the touch of a button. Any blemish, mole, uneven eyebrows, or tanning freckles? Instantly deleted. Later, my Korean dermatologist would try to implement this in real life. Every session, she begged me to laser the moles and freckles from my face. Every session, I refused. During a treatment for acne scarring, where I was decked out in thick black protective glasses and blasted with a laser, she did it anyway.

Alice always felt out of place in England, never fitting in with friendship groups and taking refuge in a love of Korean dramas at a time when that wasn’t a popular thing to do. She took the plunge and set off for Seoul, claiming she was taking a short language course but actually planning to stay – but of course she had a strong case of culture shock and had to deal with a horrible, punitive teacher and the seeming hatred of her landlady and a random old lady on the street. Oh, and she hadn’t managed to learn any Korean, and she really should have before she went.

We join Alice during 2019 and then – oh-oh – 2020 and lockdown, as she adapts, makes friends, firstly with an American colleague but then with a very hot nascent actor and an inexplicably unfriendly guy at the cafe she frequents. She even befriends the angry old lady. Then things take a turn when she manages to get some bit-parts in K-dramas herself, and music videos; however, she’s not seen as having the ideal figure, being a solid, healthy British woman rather than a tiny, dieting-forever Korean star, she learns how controlling and unhealthy the industry is, and she plunges towards an eating disorder which threatens to bring her to collapse. Fortunately, she’s saved by her friends; an epilogue clarifies what happened next and it’s a positive story of growth and learning.

Thank you to Virago Books for selecting me to read this book via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “How Korean Corn Dogs Changed my Life” was published on 2 April 2026.

Margaret Drabble – “The Great Good Places”

(16 December 2025, NetGalley)

She had been one of the smarter dressers at parties in those days: not for her the long baggy cardigans of Doris and Iris and other characters from Anita Brookner’s literary domain. (from “A Day in the Life of a Weeping Woman”)

Although I haven’t read all of her works, I admire Drabble immensely and have enjoyed everything I’ve read by her. Here she collects essays/memoir and some fiction pieces to represent the main important places in her life, in a lovely, if short collection. The introduction takes us through those places, in the North of England of her childhood, then London and the Canary Islands, even.

Some pieces are celebratory, most a little melancholy with a farewell air about them (there’s one called “Death” and in “Unfinished Portraits” she writers of her inability to finish what would have been her twentieth novel. To cap it all off, there are several mentions of Iris Murdoch, especially around her mother’s reading (and Drabble’s re-reading) of “A Word Child” and with a mention in one of the fiction pieces about an older woman visiting haunts in London. Highly recommended for an insight into this great writer.

Thank you to Canongate for selecting me to read this book via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “The Great Good Places” is published on 9 April 2026.

State of the TBR – April 2026

April 1, 2026

Liz Dexter Book confessions, Book reviews, Read The Darn Hardback, Reading challenges, State of the TBR, TBR challenge 2024 , , , 40 Comments

I have a pile!! Oh no. Just a two-book one, but it’s upsetting! (you can compare the shelf to last month here). I took just ONE print book off the main shelf in March. I didn’t take any of the oldest books off the shelf and read NONE from the 2024 TBR project (8 to go now at my stretch goal finish so I STILL didn’t do it but I’ll keep recording to the bitter end!).

I had eight NetGalley review books published in March to read and I read all of those plus four published in April (not yet reviewed). I managed to contribute two books to Reading Ireland Month and one to Reading Wales Month, which I was pleased about.

The Liz and Emma Read Together books are in a separate pile (middle shelf, to the left) because they don’t form part of the TBR project. The pile on the top right is review books and a loaned one that mustn’t get subsumed by the general TBR.

I completed 17 books in March (four still to review). The ones not accounted for by TBR or NetGalley books were two review books not reviewed here, one Iris Murdoch and one Liz and Emma read. I am part-way through three more plus my new Reading with Emma book and the ongoing big one. I acquired 16 NetGalley books again this month (two already dealt with), and my NetGalley review percentage has dropped to 92% but should go up again when I review the four books I have read but not yet reviewed.

Incomings

I didn’t acquire many print books in March and one doesn’t count!

I mentioned two ebooks acquired from Floodgate Press last month and the paperbacks I ordered at the same time arrived this month: “Night Time Economy” and “Digbeth Stories” both contain short pieces about my adopted home city. Back in November, I bought a load of books published by 404 Press because they were closing and their final volume, “Publisher Not Found: A Decade of Disruption 2016-2026”, which I bought at the same time, has finally been published and arrived. I was in The Heath Bookshop placing an order for the next book and spotted Hannah Kent’s “Always Home, Always Homesick” about her year in Iceland as a young woman and was unable to resist it, and the next day I collected my order of John Grindrod’s new book, “Tales of the Suburbs: LGBTQ+ Lives Behind Net Curtains”. Finally, Jane from local second-hand bookshop The Book Tower found “Passenger Services Timetable London … The Midlands” from 1958 in a consignment of books she’d bought and knew I’d like it, so brought it along to a Community Centre Development Day we both attended! That last one is not a reading copy as such but is enormously welcome in the house.

Moving on to ebooks, I won sixteen NetGalley books in March, the same number as last month! I mean, I’m keeping up with my NetGalley reading, even ahead, so I think this is OK, and they’re all good ones!

I was offered Amy DuBois Barnett’s “If I Ruled the World” (published April, already read) by the PR for the publisher and greatly enjoyed this late 90s story of a Black woman excelling in magazine publishing. I love Ruth Ozeki’s work and spotted her short stories, “The Typing Lady and Other Fictions” (May). Richard Collett’s “Along The Borders” (April) traces a years-long journey in the borderlands of Britain. I loved “The Secret Lives of Church Ladies” so had to request Deesha Philyaw’s new novel, “The True Confessions of First Lady Freeman” (January 2027!). Lea Korsgaard’s story of the healing effect of looking for Danish nature, “The Butterfly Season” (June) was from a read-now promotion email from NetGalley, and I think Marie-Claire Amuah’s “Sister of Mine” (April, already read) was similar. Three non-fiction titles, A. J. West’s “How Queer Bookshops Changed the World” (June), Neeraj Kaushal’s “When Africa Comes to America: How the Next Wave of Immigrants Will Transform the United States” (June) and John Kluge’s “Banking on Belonging: Why Investing in Refugee Entrepreneurs Benefits Everyone” (July) are self-explanatory and will be interesting.

Mostly update novels from previously enjoyed authors, Jeevani Charika alerted her newsletter readers about “The Wedding Planner’s Guide to Stealing the Bride” (July) – I previously enjoyed her “How Can I Resist You”; the publisher contacted me about Jenny Jackson’s new one, “The Shampoo Effect” (July) because I’d enjoyed her “Pineapple Street“; I’ve been enjoying the Highland Repair Shop series so said yes to the publisher on Kiley Dunbar’s “Making Sparks Fly at the Highland Repair Shop” (May). I have “A Murder for Miss Hortense” to read (soon) so was thrilled to spot Mel Pennant’s “Miss Hortense and the Last Rites” (July) (they’re set in Birmingham!); Matthew enjoyed Asako Yuzuki’s “Butter” so I requested her new stalkery novel, “Hooked” (March); and I was offered Jane Linfoot’s “The Cornish Beach Hut Wedding” (April) and took it on as I’ve enjoyed her other books. Finally, Tiffany Gayle Chenault’s “Black Woman Runner” (October) is a memoir about running in general and running as a Black woman, so I had to request it.

Outgoings

I took four running books to my running club’s AGM and donated 11 to Oxfam Books for a total of 15.

So that’s 17 books read and 21 books in (but two of them are already read, so really 19!) for March, and 5 print books in and 15 out.

Currently reading

Not sure how I’m still reading Laura Spinney’s “Proto” which I started last month! Emma and I are about to start Corinne Fowler’s “Green Unpleasant Land” and I’m reading Emily Kerr’s “Blind Date with a Book” on Kindle. And I’m continuing with Henry Eliot’s “The Penguin Modern Classics Book” which I WILL finish.

Coming up

I have a decent number of NetGalley books, some review books and some Read the Darn Hardbacks to read, plus my next Iris Murdoch, “The Bell” and hopefully “A Severed Head” as that fits in with Kaggsy and Simon’s 1961 Week!

“Of Thorn and Briar” and “Miss Hortense” are published in March and April in paperback so need reading! Lovely Cari sent me “Slow Coast Home” by Josie Dew and we’re going to read that together this month. Review books “Lost London”, “Future Rural” and “Run Forever” will appear on Shiny New Books (first two) and my blog soon!

My April NetGalley books:

In a mix of non-fiction and fiction, I have “Hooked”, “Along the Borders” and “The Cornish Beach Hut Wedding” as previously mentioned. Amir Levine’s “Secure” about how attachment style manifests in adulthood, “Trapped” about life on a London estate, “The Wilderness” following Black women friends, “Fallout” looking at Greenham Common’s pull on a schoolgirl, the new Debbie Macomber and “Meet Me At the Convenience Store By the Sea” which reminds me I need to dig out the first novel from my TBR shelf!

With the ones I’m currently reading, I have three books to finish and two to continue, and fifteen other books to read, which might be doable, I feel (I have a weekend away with train journeys and some other down time planned this month). I did what I planned last month, after all!

How was your March reading? What are you reading this month? Are you doing any book challenges for the month?

Book review – Guy Shrubsole – “The Lost Rainforests of Britain”

March 31, 2026

Liz Dexter Book reviews, Emma and Liz reads , 12 Comments

Another fairly quick Emma and Liz Reads finished – we started it in mid-January. (If you want to see them all, click here.) I bought this and “Landlines” for myself after having bought them for Emma for her birthday, as we’d chosen both of them for Reading Together; I’m pleased to say I’ve now read and reviewed all the print books that I acquired in October 2023!

Guy Shrubsole – “The Lost Rainforests of Britain”

(07 October 2023, The Heath Bookshop)

The surrounding farmland had clearly been abandoned and was being reclaimed by regenerating woods. I began to realise that we’d stumbled across something extraordinary: an accidental rainforest (p. 177)

A fascinating book which arose out of work the author did tracing and recording and estimating and mapping the temperate rainforests of (mainly) the West of Britain. These rainforests aren’t of course tropical like the ones that the word brings to mind, but they are very damp, hence their existence in the western parts of the England, Wales and Scotland, which are notably more damp than the central and eastern parts – and are apparently some of the best places in Europe in terms of climatic conditions. They are also characterised by symbiotic relationships between trees and mosses, fungi and lichens, so we get a lot about those plants (and we spent quite a while peering at the colour plates in the book trying to work out if some of the lungworts etc. resembled what he said they did!). Shrubsole travels through the Western Highlands, the Lake District, Wales, Devon and Cornwall, describing the history of the patches of rainforest that are still there, meeting people who are researching, working in or even saving them, and poking around in damp, boggy places, in his element when discovering a new-to-him lichen. Indigenous issues are touched upon in the Scottish part of the book, including a meetup of North and South American Indigenous peoples with descendents of the original Celts, raised on Celtic mythology and speaking Gaelic, which added an interesting note.

Shrubsole goes through different themes in his chapters, looking at threats to these rainforest, from, for example, Victorian moss collectors to sheep and deer. He does a bit of trespassing, clearly some of it with Nick Hayes of “The Book of Trespass” fame. Rewilding comes up, with some people pro and some anti, and of course Knepp then pops up, as it often seems to in Emma and my books, as well as mention of aurochs keeping the undergrowth down later on. There’s a lovely chapter visiting Tolkien illustrator Alan Lee and looking at his inspiration for the Ents – it’s a really wide-ranging book, which we didn’t exactly expect. And it’s certainly not all negative: groups and cooperatives are purchasing woods to save them and, when allowed not an awful lot of encouragement, woods are growing back over cultivated land. And there are good and clear calls for policy work to encourage this to happen more. At the end is a guide for visiting rainforests so as not to tread too heavily, which is a nice touch.

Emma and I agreed we both enjoyed this, perhaps more than we expected, especially when we stopped trying to learn all the worts, lichens and mosses by heart, instead knowing we have the book and can look them up if we need to!

Just to recap for anyone new to the blog: my best friend and I sit down in our respective homes in London and Birmingham at the same time (usually on a Thursday after dinner) and read the same bit of the same book, while chatting about it on Messenger. We started in lockdown and decided to carry on. We always make sure we have several to go on our special TBR piles, which you can see on my State of the TBR posts, and are always adding more to the possibles list!

As well as those aurochs and Knepp which seem to crop up in everything we read, a couple of bits of Bookish Beck Book Serendipity for this one – a lovely mutual one. I was reading Tom Chesshyre’s “Slow Trains Around Britain” while reading this one, and first of all, “Slow Trains” mentioned going through a British rainforest, and then this one mentions Beeching’s Axe and lost railway stations!

Our next book is Corinne Fowler’s “Green Unpleasant Land”, the next-oldest on our mutual TBR and taking a different viewpoint on Britain’s countryside.

Book review – Various, in partnership with Inclusive Journalism Cymru – “Cymru & I”

March 30, 2026

Liz Dexter Book reviews, Reading challenges, Reading Wales, Social justice - class, Social justice - gender sex sexuality, Social justice - neurodiversity, social justice - race , , 12 Comments

Paperback of Cymru & I on a pale wood background

I wanted to read something for Reading Wales Month, so I pulled this from the fairly recent TBR (I mined the shelves for books last year and can’t have acquired many Welsh ones since then!). I bought this one direct from lovely Welsh independent publisher Seren Press in January, and out of the 18 print titles I acquired that month, I’ve now read and reviewed four.

Various, in partnership with Inclusive Journalism Cymru – “Cymru & I”

(14 January 2026, direct from the publisher)

Inclusive Journalism Cymru is a project that creates opportunities for people from marginalised backgrounds or identities to tell their stories, “so that we could fill in the gaps and complete the picture. So we could tell the true story of Wales” (p. 7) They note in the Introduction that Wales is gradually becoming a more diverse, but occasionally more fractured, nation, and explain that they wanted to showcase different perspectives on that process.

This they certainly do, as the pieces included range across those written by people coming to Wales from far away and settling in and those who were born there but have a different perspective, maybe in terms of neurodiversity or other differences. This gives a lovely varied and very up-to-date picture of modern, diverse Wales, the things to celebrate and the challenges.

As well as the more personal memoir pieces, Mo Jannah gives a very useful overview of different communities in Wales from Irish and Italian people onwards, and Anthony Shapland contributes twenty short pieces about the often hidden experiences of the gay community, including a very touching one about friendship across the ages and sexualities. There are also stories of coming to Wales and stories of leaving, stories of adjustment and stories asking for adjustment. A really strong and striking collection that will be valuable to many.

Book thoughts – Iris Murdoch – “The Sandcastle”

March 28, 2026

Liz Dexter Book reviews, Iris Murdoch in my 50s , , 19 Comments

Leading up to the Iris Murdoch Society Conference in 2028 (I already have something prepared for this year’s conference and I need time to get through all the novels one a month), and because I like to do this in every decade of my life, I’m rereading all of Iris Murdoch’s novels in order, again. The last time I did this, 2017-2019, I ran a big readalong project, and the time before, I read them with a group of friends: this time is a solo effort, just to allow myself to think about how I find them as I move into my 50s (and age past a lot of the main characters!). So I’m writing more notes than recaps of the novels: if you want the deeper dive, please take a look at the Readalong post and comments for this one. My earlier review on here from 2008 is here.

Iris Murdoch – “The Sandcastle”

(1980s)

Mor, a middle-aged teacher at a lower level public school, has a dull marriage to the controlling Nan and two children who aren’t going to achieve what he’d hoped. So when Rain Carter appears to paint a portrait of the old headmaster, Mor’s dear friend Demoyte, he’s ripe to fall for her. Against the background of school events and Mor’s fumblings towards becoming the candidate to be the local Labour MP, alongside his (and the family’s) friend Tim Burke, another of Murdoch’s slightly separate Irish men, and his ambitions for Mor. As Donald plans to climb a school landmark, Mor’s obsession climbs and so apparently does Rain’s.

Thoughts on themes

Painted ladies / ageing hags

Not really a theme in this one. Nan is quite glamorous but not really a painted lady; Rain is boyish. Does she move towards this theme from here?

Sudden revelations

Mor is hit by the thunderbolt of his love for Rain: “He waited. Then from the very depths of his being the knowledge came to him, suddenly and with devastating certainty. He was in love with Miss Carter. He stood there looking at the dusty ground and the thought that had taken shape shook him so that he nearly fell”. (p. 136)

Reading Iris Murdoch post-#MeToo

Saints are passive, non-threatening / non-masculine men (as discussed in the last post) – Reverend Everard fits the bill here. Poor Rain is pawed by Demoyte and then idealised by Mor. She only really has a “moment” when she realises Mor’s political ambitions and states firmly she would never let anything separate her from her painting. Meanwhile, it takes another man’s gaze for Mor to realise Rain is a decent painter and he’s excited later to be “keeping her in the house” (p. 164). Rain is described several times as boylike, with her slim figure and short, tousled hair (prefiguring “The Black Prince”).

I was reminded of something I thought I remembered IM saying which I found in a post in the IM Society Facebook (thank you to Daniel Read): ‘She writes this to Georg Kreisel, late Oct 1967, around the time when she’s starting to develop A Fairly Honourable Defeat: “I think I am sexually rather odd, which is a male homosexual in female guise. (This is fairly evident from the novels where it is the male queer relations which tend to carry the most force from the unconscious.) I doubt if Freud knew anything about me, though Proust knew about my male equivalent.”’ Is this because of her internalised misogyny?

Mid-life crises?

The book is basically about Mor’s mid-life crisis.

Alternative idea: set pieces

If the MeToo stuff is too much, an alternative idea to look at. Here, of course Donald’s climb and rescue, also Felicity’s spell and the car falling into the river. As with all the set pieces in the novels, there is so much satisfying detail. Note: Flight from the Enchanter – Annette’s jump to swing at the beginning / the AGM of the magazine. Under the Net – the rescue of Mr Mars and/or the destruction of the set.

What’s changed in my reading this time?

I had remembered most of this but I had sympathies for Bledyard this time around. I had thought the romance fascinating, now it seems dirty. I have been in my relationship longer than the Mors have been married. Is there a theme of long marriages somewhere, even before IM had one? Chimes with previous books I’d not noticed – Tim decides he wants to tell Nan all about his childhood, just as Mischa does in “Flight”.

What has stayed the same?

I remembered most of the story and main scenes. I have always loved this quotation:

Eccentric people, he concluded, were good for conventional people, simply because they made them able to conceive of everything being quite different. This gave them a sense of freedom. Nothing is more educational, in the end, than the mode of being of other people. (p. 62)

Links to my life and way of being

Bledyard’s late assertion chimed with me: “‘Happiness?’ said Bledyard, making a face of non-comprehension. ‘What has happiness got to do with it? Do you imagine that you, or anyone, has some sort of right to happiness? That idea is a poor guide.'” (p. 195)

As with my previous, this is my thinking aloud, and it might bet that these posts are only interesting to Iris Murdoch afficionados, I don’t know. If it’s disappointed you, go back to one of the earlier links and read a proper review. Back soon with the next one!

Edited to add: I forgot to include a link to Reading Ireland Month, to which the organisers assure me this book belongs, as IM was originally Irish.

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