2019 books, #51-55

Educated, by Tara Westover. London: Windmill, 2018.

Tara Westover and her family grew up preparing for the End of Days. She didn't have a birth certificate, had never seen a doctor and was "homeschooled" in a rudimentary sort of way by her herbalist/doula mother. As she grew older, and events such as Ruby Ridge impinged on her father's paranoia and suspicion of all authority, she realised she needed to get out, and that education was the both the way to do it and the way she would lose her family.  It's a heartbreaking book, but absolutely compelling. I read it in one sitting.

Darkness and light, by John Harvey. London: Heinemann, 2006.

Picked this up at the Hove Cubs' book stall at the station; it had been a while since I'd read anything by John Harvey, and I'd forgotten quite how good he is. DI Frank Elder's first murder on the job was a women laid out meticulously on her bed; it remained unsolved, and a weight on his mind, ever since. Years later, Elder's estranged wife gets in touch with him - her friend's sister Claire has disappeared. Several days later, Claire turns up back at home - but dead, and laid out very like the other victim.  Elder has become a recluse in Cornwall but returns to Nottingham to look into the case, and soon realises he's dealing with a very disturbed mind.

The silver pigs, by Lindsey Davis [audiobook]. Read by Christian Rodska. Audible edition.

Marcus Didius Falco is ex-army, scraping a living as a private informer and living well on the wrong side of the tracks in first-century Rome, when a pretty young woman literally falls into his arms.  Falco becomes embroiled in family and political secrets, travels to England (which he hates) and meets another very interesting young woman. I've read this, and listened to it, several times; and it's still wonderful. Parts of it which moved me the first time round still make me cry; I think I may be picking all of these up on Audible gradually; if I can find the right reader. Christian Rodska can read the phone-book to me and I'd listen, but he does a wonderful job on these skilfully written Roman-era mysteries.

Penshaw, by LJ Ross. Kindle edition.

Another instalment in the DCI Ryan mysteries - this time, Ryan is investigating the death in a fire of a man who was heavily involved in the Miners' Strike of the early to mid 80s, and wondering whether there's a connection. Meanwhile, he has trouble nearer home with the knowledge that there's a mole in his department working with organised criminals. As ever, this is unspectacularly written, but the plot is great; and if you grew up seeing Penshaw Monument every day on your way to and from school and were a teenager during the Strike, the local colour is also excellent.

The stranger diaries, by Elly Griffiths. Kindle edition.

Clare Cassidy teaches in a secondary school, once a house owned by the Gothic writer RM Holland; Holland's study is still there, and Clare specialises in Gothic literature. However, when a fellow English teacher is murdered and a quote from Holland's most famous novella is found beside her, elements of the Gothic start crowding into Clare's, and her family's, life and make an eerie parallel with the novella. The story is told from three narrative viewpoints - Clare's, her daughter Georgie's, and DS Harbinder Kaur's; and this adds complexity because none of them really like each other all that much at the beginning of the story. It's very creepy, and also unputdownable.