Bookmarks: Reviews in brief

Adultery as a theme in fiction is as old as the genre itself, so Anthea Church, in Sleeping with Mozart (Virago, $34.96, pbk) faces a challenge in providing her reader with something sufficiently nuanced to lift her story out of the common trough.

She doesn't make too bad a fist of it, either.

It is told in the first person by the narrator, Dorcas, whose much older lover, Jamie, an English professor, is initially obsessed with her, but finally opts for the safer choice of remaining with the missus.

Dorcas, a schoolteacher, meanders through the affair, alternately just as obsessed as her lover and just as determined to mend her broken heart.

Though sketched only as a somewhat remote character the professor's wife is the key to this story, for she refuses to give the permission her husband craves, and treats his obsession as the peccadillo it really is.

It's a novel a cut above its competitors, with a kind of off-stage mockery undercutting the earnestness of the narrator.

- Bryan James


Late last year I reviewed Notwithstanding by Louis de Bernieres, which was a collection of stories all connected to a quintessential English village with all the eccentrics and antics of such a timeless and charming place.

With Helen Simonson's Major Pettigrew's Last Stand (Random, $38.99, pbk), I felt I had slipped within a protracted story in Notwithstanding (the village) and was able to get a good, long look at the ways and wherefores of their life.

It was a joy to read.

Simonson has written a classic love story about breaking taboos and upsetting social convention while detailing with charm and sympathy, the weird and wonderful village life.

The book is narrated by the ageing, widowed Major who is grief-stricken again as his brother dies unexpectedly.

Throughout, the Major maintains a terrifically dry sense of humour and I repeatedly laughed out loud as he confronted the more greedy and obnoxious within his family and community.

There is a lot going on at the moment in his village and he is uncomfortable with most of the activities.

They represent change and noise, two things he dislikes more than phones and phonies.

His own son proves to be a sticking point but, true to his training, the Major does what is right in the finish, pride and prejudice be damned.

This is Simonson's first novel and I look forward to her next offering with anticipation.

- Kathy Young


One of the many benefits of reading novels is that they can take you to countries and periods of history you know little or nothing about and give you a flavour of a foreign place and time.

Brigid Pasulka's novel A Long Long Time Ago and Essentially True ( Hachette, $38.99, pbk) tells two stories of Poland - one set before and during World War 2, the other in contemporary times - that are linked by a family connection across three generations.

The story begins with a rustic, almost fairy-tale air as Pasulka introduces the 1940s characters, in particular a beautiful village girl called Anielica and her ardent suitor Czeslaw (also known as The Pigeon).

A more matter-of-fact tone is adopted to relate the story of their granddaughter, Baba Yaga, who has just moved to modern-day Krakow from her family's village.

Anielica's seduction by The Pigeon is only a gateway into a much more substantial story about the survival of their village's inhabitants during the war and the small acts of heroism that get most of them through it intact.

When the couple move to Krakow after the war, The Pigeon's disappearance at the hands of the State touches on a murky part of Polish history.

Baba Yaga's experience of life in Krakow 50 years on may not be overshadowed by such malevolence, but she has her own torments to deal with, not least her involvement in the death of someone close to her.

What gives this book its shape and substance is not the tragedies that befall its characters but their moments of human frailty, courage, humour, disappointment and, occasionally, happiness.

The small events are as captivating as the life-changing ones.

In weaving a family history, Pasulka encapsulated so much of Polish society - how things were during the war and how things are now.

It is not a complete picture, of course, but I felt enlightened about an unfamiliar country by the time the novel drew to a close.

- Caroline Hunter