Book Review: Aethelstan by Sarah Foot

Aethelstan: The First King of England by Sarah Foot

 

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

 

 

 

 

Sarah Foot's Aethelstan is one of the few biographies written about the life of the West Saxon king, Aethelstan. The book covers every aspect of his life: Lineage, upbringing, travels, royal expenses, his Court, his private life and religious devotion (Aethelstan never married), and his success as a king who would rule all of England.

However, the mistake I made in reading this book, was that I chose to read it immediately following Neil Oliver's brilliant A History of Ancient Britain. I found myself constantly comparing how different the two were in the way they'd been written. Foot's biography, whilst containing a hefty amount of information, just isn't presented in a particularly interesting way. It feels hefty, daunting and, at times, completely overwhelming. It isn't free-flowing and it feels very academic.

I would not recommend this to anyone but the most ardent history-nerd who harbours a special interest in this particular era.

 

 

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The Place of Stone: Kanyaka Station

 

It was the Australia Day long weekend this weekend, which meant that we had a little bit of extra time up our sleeves to get out and about, and do a bit of investigating.

 

Yesterday we ventured out to the old Kanyaka sheep station between Quorn and Hawker, to have a look around, take the Bailey-dog for a walk (and a sniff!), and snap some photographs.

 

I find Kanyaka a particularly interesting location due to its rapid expanse in the mid-1800s, with 40,000 sheep being shorn at the woolshed in 1864 alone. But, the boom wasn't to last, and drought immediately followed with the loss of at least 20,000 sheep over three years. The isolation and the harsh conditions meant that eventually, Kanyaka had been to be abandoned, and its buildings left to ruin.

 

Their stone skeletons, however, remain.

The Miner's Cottage

 

On the weekend, Shane and I went to Burra for an overnight stay in a sweet little Miner's cottage that dates back to the mid-1800s. Burra was once a copper mining town, and people came from all over the world to try and make their fortune from the mines. The Cornish were masters in working the copper, so all over the town are the most adorable cottages that are so authentically Cornish you'd be forgiven for thinking you've been transported to Cornwall itself.

 

The last time we were in Burra was in July 2010, when we spent a weekend investigating the town. It is a wonderfully sweet place to get in some well-earned r&r. The last time we were in the town, we stayed in the original doctor's surgery, but was totally smitten with all the surrounding cottages, and I'd been eager to return and stay in a traditional miner's cottage ever since.

 

The cottage we stayed in was made up of four simple rooms. Through the front door we stepped into the living room, with the master bedroom to our right. Straight ahead another doorway led into the second bedroom, which had the kitchen-diner adjacent. Along the eastern side of the house was a small weatherboard extension housing the laundry, bathroom and loo.

 

The cottage itself was made of stone, and had orb ceilings in all the rooms except the master bedroom, which had wooden slats. The floors were polished boards and slate, and from the front veranda was the most gorgeous view of the rolling rolls that make up the Burra landscape.

 

Surrounded by geraniums, with birds in the trees and creatures scampering about in the garden, it made for a wonderful retreat.

 

If you are ever in the region, then I wholeheartedly recommend a stay in Burra. There is so much to see and do, especially if you are fond of history.

 

A Meeting with the Dead.

 

 

Yacka and Jamestown, South Australia :: 27 April 2013

 

1. War Memorial (WWI), Yacka, where we paid our respects to Samuel & Henry Gale.

2. Henry & Elizabeth Gale, my great-great-great grandparents.

3. In the Shadows, Yacka Cemetery.

4. Sleeping Peacefully, Yacka Cemetery.

5. A bright and sunny autumn day in Jamestown.

6. Isaac & Catherine Black, my great-great-great-great grandparents.

7. A Meeting with the Dead, Jamestown Cemetery.

 

 

Book Review: The Great War by Les Carlyon

The Great War by Les Carlyon

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

"We are lousy, stinking, ragged, unshaven, sleepless. Even when we're back a bit we can't sleep for our own guns. I have one puttee, a dead man's helmet, another dead man's gas protector, a dead man's bayonet. My tunic is rotten with other men's blood and partly splattered with a comrade's brains...Courage does not count here. It is all nerve. Once that goes one becomes a gibbering maniac." - Lieutenant John 'Alec' Raws, 4 August 1916, quoted in The Great War

On the 28 February 1916, 28-year-old farm labourer, Edwin Gale, from Yacka, South Australia, enlisted in the Australian Imperial Force. A week later his older brother, Samuel, followed suit. The brothers were sent to the Western Front, the former as part of the Infantry, the other as a Gunner. They lived through some of the harshest conditions imaginable, surviving gas attacks and endless defeats. Neither saw the end of the war: Edwin died on the 21 October 1917 from wounds he received during the (disastrous) Passchendaele Campaign; his brother, Samuel, was killed in action on the second day of the German 'Kaiserschlacht' Offensive, five months and one day after his younger brother (22 March 1918). Their widowed mother lost both her sons. The brothers are buried in Belgium, in separate cemeteries not so far apart, but still thousands of miles from home.

If Edwin and Samuel weren't two kinks in my Family Tree, I probably would never have read Les Carlyon's The Great War, but as it was (and still is), I needed to know more about the battlefields of the First World War so that I could greater understand the lives of these two brothers during such a pivotal moment in history. As it turns out, The Great War was the ideal place to start.

At around 800 pages in length, The Great War is an epic collation of the people, places and events that made the Western Front during the peak of World War I. Its central focus is the young, adventurous Australians who volunteered to fight (for reasons known only to them) on the other side of the world, and the British military commanders and politicians who held their fate. It covers in great, horrific detail all the major battles: Fromelle, Pozieres, Passchendaele, Villers-Bretonneux, and then some lesser known ones as well. Not one hellish moment is skipped.

Yet this is not a book bogged down in technical detail; it is not simply "tactics" or a regurgitation of time and place. What makes The Great War such a phenomenal read is the effort that Carlyon has put into creating a personalised recollection, to make it feel as if it is the Fallen who are telling this tale. It contains excerpts from journal entries and letters, photographs and maps. It tells the stories of these men not only as they were during the war, but also what life was like before it and - if they were lucky enough to survive - what happened after.

Yet at the same time, The Great War does not glorify war or make heroes out of ordinary men, instead recognising that they were, in fact, just men. The Great War may be an epic and phenomenal book, but it is also emotionally wrecking. It made me cry - a lot. It lays bare the horrors of war - the destruction, the desperation and the waste. The reader is thrust into the nightmarish existence of the rancid mud-flats that became the Western Front, and reminds one of the vicious brutality that humans are capable of. It peels back the layers of legend and myth and reveals to the reader the true, human aspect of the war, and explains how a nation lost an entire generation of men - a loss that remains an absolute tragedy, even after the passing of nearly 100 years.

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** The 25 April in Australia and New Zealand is ANZAC Day, a day of sombre reflection commemorating the moment when our two nations officially became part of the First World War with the dawn landing of Australian and New Zealand forces at Gallipoli, Turkey, on the 25 April 1915.

Kiss Me (I'm Irish)

[Me - a few years younger than what I am now - at Fore Abbey in Ireland]

 

 

Tomorrow is St Patrick's Day. I don't participate in the celebrations but I do find it a good day to reflect on where my family originates and how I came to be a South Australian. Like many Australians I have Irish ancestry; it is something that has always been assumed but in the process of researching my family history I have been able to confirm it with at least one set of great x4 grandparents (Isaac and Catharine) originating from Londonderry in Northern Ireland. They came out to South Australia as free settlers in the mid-1800s, eventually establishing their own farm at Bundaleer. As I continue to research my family tree I've no doubt I'll find further connections to the Emerald Isle (to not would just be odd).

 

Earlier in the week I received an email from Aine Greaney (author of Dance Lessons) advising that in "celebration" of St Patrick's Day (and all things Irish) she is providing access to three of her short stories on the theme Infidelity, Irish style via her website.

 

I wanted to share this information with you earlier but work committments kept me from the blog until now and I missed story #1 (Wednesdays). However, story #2 (La Belle Femme) is currently available for reading, and the third (What the Body Remembers) will be up in time for St Patrick's Day. So, if you are interested in some contemporary Irish fiction then I suggest to head over to Aine's website. Her work is lovely. And it's free.

 

Now, tell me: What is your connection to Ireland?

 

 

The Week in Pictures...

 

 

** Due to the persistent heat we've spent most of this week indoors. I think poor Bailey-dog is a little stir-crazy as he insists on going outside so he can lay in the sun. I keep telling him he'll get sunburnt and what-not but I think he's in denial about the whole thing.

 

** The garden is...coping. The zucchini is faring worst with this heat and the tomato plants look a little limp by the end of each day but there's still hope: The cherry tomatoes are ripening, there's cucumbers on the vines, cobs of corn and plenty of baby eggplant. The tent village we created to keep everything shaded is working surprisingly well, although I still need to venture down to the garden three times a day to ensure the soil remains damp.

 

** "I am half-sick of salad". Said I.

 

** To wile away the days I've been keeping myself occupied by reorganising the kitchen cupboards. Dull, no? I've also been reading and indulging in a bit of family research. I've lost count of the number of hours I've spent reading about the Battles of Ypres and searching through military service records, but as a history-nerd I am completely in my element. I'll enjoy it whilst I can because eventually I will have to return to the painfully frustrating task of trying to find people who seemingly never existed.

The Week in Pictures...

 

 

** What did I do this week? I wrote letters. A lot of letters. Then I received some mail from Louise in the UK with Tudor postage stamps, which made me the happiest little history-nerd on the face of the planet. I still can't believe Tudor postage stamps actually exist. Awesome.

 

** I watched Ghost Adventures with the Mother-in-Law as Shane was away and I wasn't brave enough to watch it alone. Although she does have an annoying habit of falling asleep halfway through the episodes...

 

** It rained! For an entire afternoon! It was light and in the end didn't amount to much, but the cooler weather and just being able to sit inside with the windows and doors open listening to the pitter-patter of the rain was truly splendid.

 

** Completely by accident, I seem to have planted a flower garden that blooms in succession, meaning that we have something in flower almost always, regardless of the time of year. At the moment the native hibiscus and adorable button daisies have just started making an appearance. Also, the agapanthus has flower stems and I expect them to start blooming early December.

 

What happened in your neck of the woods this past week?

 

 

A History of Scotland by Neil Oliver...

A History of Scotland: Look Behind the Mist and Myth of Scottish History by Neil Oliver

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

"Scotland is a small country on the edge of Europe, facing west into the harsh Atlantic Ocean. Life has been hard there for most of the people, most of the time." - A History of Scotland

If, like me, you're the type of person who enjoys learning complete histories of entire countries, then A History of Scotland is just the book for you.

Neil Oliver (achaeologist, historian, broadcaster and writer) takes the reader on a momenteous journey through Scotland's vast history, its shining moments and its debilitating pitfalls, from the Dawn of Time until Present Day. Constructed in a way that makes it feel like a novel, Oliver effortlessly recounts major events, memorable eras and the personalities who shaped them, drawing back the curtains of myth to reveal the truth of Scotland's history - and its continuing legacy.

Although lacking in detail in parts - particularly near the end where perhaps it is mistakingly assumed that everyone is aware of Scotland's more recent history - A History of Scotland is a wonderfully easy book to read, providing an insightful look at the twists and turns of Scotland's fate.

Recommended.

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Daughters of the Witching Hill by Mary Sharratt.

Daughters of the Witching Hill by Mary Sharratt

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

"The said Elizabeth Southerns [alias Demdike] confesseth, and sayth; that about twenty years past, as she was coming homeward from begging, there met her near unto a stonepit in Gouldshey, in the said Forrest of Pendle, a spirit or devil in the shape of a boy, the one half of his coat black, and the other brown, who bade her stay, saying to her, that if she would give him her soul, she should have any thing that she would request." - Thomas Pott's in The Wonderfull Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Lancaster, 1613

 

Daughters of the Witching Hill by Mary Sharratt is an historical novel based around events as recorded at the Pendle Witch Trials in Lancashire, England, in the year 1612. England at this time was under the rule of King James I and Catholicism was outlawed. As such, Papists were forced to practice their faith in secret and anyone caught doing so was tried by the local magistrate. James I also had a particular dislike of witches and declared that anyone suspected of practicing witchcraft should be prosecuted.

Daughters of the Witching Hill tells the story of these witches - some herbalists, others Papists - from the point of view of Elizabeth Southerns (Demdike) and her grand-daughter, Alizon Device. However, it is not a book on the trials per se, but rather a fictional account of the lives of the women at the forefront of the 1612 trials.

The story begins with Demdike as the narrator, who tells how she came to be in possession of the knowledge, skills and power to heal the sick through her relationship with a familiar spirit. She is able to provide a living for herself and her family through the provision of these services and goes on to teach her grandchildren in the way of her craft. However, her grand-daughter, Alizon, yearns to be normal and resents her magics for the fear they instill in other people. Yet when she is offended by a travelling pedler, her harsh words become a curse and from there begins the infamous Lancashire witchtrials of 1612.

Daughters of the Witching Hill provides an interesting insight into what life may have been like for those herbalists, midwives, cunning men and women, and even Papists who were accused of witchcraft during the 15th and 16th centuries, and of how even a seemingly small and innocent occurance can leave a permanent mark on the pages of history. Daughters of the Witching Hill gives voice to those women who are often regarded as some of the most feared and ruthless witches of all time.

I liked that the author decided to write this novel in first-person narrative from the points of view of two of the accused, however I think the story would have provided an even greater insight had Anne Whittle (Chattox) also been given a voice. Having lived her entire life on the fringes of society and being feared for a witch long before Demdike and Alizon Device, I cannot help but feel somewhat disappointed that her perspective is missing from this novel. However, for someone with a keen interest in the Pendle Witches (they are my favourite witches in history, afterall), I found Daughters of the Witching Hill to be a passionate re-telling of one of history's darkest and most intriguing moments.

 

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Architecture is sexy, not scary.

[Old & New: Dining room fire place with combustion heating]

It's Thursday and lately I've been excited by Thursdays.

You see, Restoration Man is on the Lifestyle Channel on Thursday nights, and it's my new favourite show on television. Now, I don't watch a lot of TV because I am incredibly picky about what interests me and it's not very often that a TV series comes along that I look forward to watching each and every week.

[Old & New: Antique lock on the door and new copper light switches in the dining room]

I'll tell you why I like this series so much, and it's not simply because George Clarke is eye candy. It's because this is a series about simple, everyday people taking on the momentous and humbling task of renovating and restoring old buildings - buildings that are, in some cases, more than 500 years old. Everything from churches to castle towers, barns, coach inns and windmills. 

Restoration Man is a series about saving heritage buildings from ruin by bringing them into the twenty-first century, which with all the bureaucracy that comes along with it, is no easy feat.

[Old & New: Every architrave and window frame in our house is original. Some of the windows even have the original panes of glass]

I have mentioned before that I am a firm believer that buildings need to be allowed to adapt and evolve to changing times and conditions in order for them to survive in the long term, and Restoration Man is a great example of how this is being achieved in the UK on a truly inspiring scale.

Buildings cannot be left stagnant to eventually fall into ruins. They need people who have the passion and motivation to be their custodians and ensure their survival for a further 100, 200, 500 years. Sometimes heritage listed buildings come with so many restrictive requirements that potential buyers are frightened by the prospect; heritage boards should be aiming to encourage people to purchase and maintain these properties for future generations, not make it such a daunting process that they run scared instead.

[New: Ceiling  and lights in dining room]

Our house is not heritage listed itself, however it is over 100 years old (almost ancient by South Australian standards) and lies within a local heritage zone, which comes with its own rules and regulations about frontage appearance and what can be visible from the street. We love our house. We purchased it because we wanted to be able to restore and preserve it whilst making it a livable, working home.

Most people don't buy old buildings to make them look new. There's something inherently cozy and endearing about period properties that makes them so appealing that rarely do purchasers come along with the intent to completely reinvent them. It is possible to bring an old world property into the new world with all modern amenities and comfort, yet retain the original features and period charm of the property that made is so appealing in the first place, people just have to be allowed to do it.

 

[Old & New: Original wooden ceilings and split-system reverse-cycle air con in living room]

I also thought this the perfect excuse to share some photos of our cozy little cottage, as I haven't really done so since we finished our renovation stint just before Xmas. Of course our restoration efforts are on a much smaller scale than anything you'd see on Restoration Man, but they are extending the life of our property nonetheless, and that is an incredibly rewarding achievement.



The Lady of the Rivers by Philippa Gregory (+ a giveaway)

The Lady of the Rivers by Philippa Gregory

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The Lady of the Rivers is the third novel in The Cousins' War series by Philippa Gregory, and is based around the life of Jacquetta, daughter of the Count of Luxembourg and mother to Elizabeth Woodville, future wife and queen to King Edward IV.

The Cousins' War refers to the Wars of the Roses, the battles that took place between the houses of Lancaster and York in their fight for the English throne during the latter half of the 15th century. In The Lady of the Rivers, however, the story begins much earlier, on mainland Europe, where a young Jacquetta befriends the saintly Joan of Arc. As the two girls play at a game of Tarot, Jacquetta has her first glimpse of what can happen to magical women who seek power.

You see, Jacquetta has the power to see into the future, an ability inherited from the goddess Melusina, her ancestor. However, Jacquetta is reluctant to use this power for fear of being branded a witch and the consequences that would follow such an accusation. Her first husband, the Duke of Bedford, marries her so that he can utilise her ability, and introduces a young and innocent Jacquetta to the mysteries of alchemy. For Jacquetta it is a lonely marriage, but in her husband's squire, Richard Woodville, she finds her soulmate. After the Duke's death, Jacquetta refuses to conform to custom and marries Richard in secret, which sees them banished from Court and sent to live a life of solitude in the English countryside.

That is until Margaret of Anjou arrives from France to marry King Henry VI. Jacquetta is Margaret's kinswoman, and the nervous new queen, disliked on account of being French, sends for Jacquetta to return to Court. Jacquetta and her husband, Richard, go on to become Lady and Lord Rivers, and diligently serve the English king and his queen in their Lancastrian rule.

However, England is thrown into turmoil when Henry's mental health fails and the Wars of the Roses ensues. Margaret is forced to fight to keep her husband on the throne and her (illegitimate?) son's claim to it alive. Jacquetta and Richard are loyal to their Lancastrian king and queen until fate sends the clear message that through their daughter, Elizabeth, the House of York is destined to be their future.

One of my favourite reads for 2011, The Lady of the Rivers is a wonderfully gripping tale of magic, romance, mystery, murder and war, and demonstrates how quickly those in power can fall. This novel compliments The White Queen perfectly, where Jacquetta hands the power to her daughter, Elizabeth, whose story also goes on to make history.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

GIVEAWAY DETAILS:

Since I held giveaways for books one and two, I have decided to do the same for The Lady of the Rivers.

All you have to do to enter the draw is to leave a comment on this post. Entries will be taken until midnight (Australian Central Standard Time) on Friday, 10 February 2012. The winner will be announced sometime over that weekend (11 - 12 February).

Giveaway is open to everyone, on the condition that the Book Depository ships free to your country.

The winner will receive this paperback copy of The Lady of the Rivers.

Best of luck!

In Pictures: The Last Stand...

"BIRD HOUSE"

"IN RUINS"

"OASIS"

"LAST STANDING"

A favourite pastime: Roaming the Ranges in search of old farm houses and ruins of pioneer cottages, a reminder of the way things were and never will be again.

The Maid by Kimberly Cutter

The Maid by Kimberly Cutter

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

She won't submit. That's why she must be killed. Won't submit to the Church, won't let them judge her revelations, won't accept the Church as her authority, won't abide by its rules. "God must first be served," she said, and this was the heart of it, the thing that drove them mad. The audacity. The gall. If a filthy peasant girl can talk to God, can receive divine wisdom, who needs the Church? - The Maid by Kimberly Cutter

In 15th Century France, during the 100 years war, a peasant girl from Lorraine, following instructions from God, leads the French army to win a series of significant battles against the English. Later betrayed by her King, she falls into the hands of the English and is made to stand trial for witchcraft, of which she is found guilty and sentenced to death.

Kimberly Cutter's novel The Maid tells the life story of this amazing peasant girl from Lorraine, who went on to crown a king and become the legend that is Saint Joan of Arc (Jehanne D'Arc).

I enjoyed this novel immensely, even though I could not relate to Jehanne at all: It is difficult to understand her devotion, motivation and determination. But Jehanne is not dislikable, it's simply that she is unrelatable - She who taught herself to fight and then went into battle, over and over again, sword at the ready, standard held high, knowing that she could and would eventually die, all for the will of God. How can anyone possibly relate to that?

The Maid is filled with fascinating historic detail, particularly of Jehanne's battles, and it is clear that Cutter has researched Jehanne's life and achievements extensively in order to complete this novel. Even those parts of the story where Cutter has taken artistic licence connect effortlessly with the facts, making the story as a whole seem plausible and believable.

Recommended to fans of historical fiction, particularly medieval, and anyone who enjoys a good story but doesn't mind descriptions of war.

**Received as an ARC through NetGalley. Many thanks to the author and the publisher for allowing me to read and review this novel.

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Smuggled by Christina Shea

Smuggled by Christina Shea


My rating: 4 of 5 stars



 

Smuggled is a beautiful, inspiring novel set predominantly in post-WWII Romania and Hungary. It tells the story of Eva Farkas, who is smuggled out of Hungary and away from the Nazis as a five-year-old during WWII. Across the border in rural Romania she is renamed Anca Balaj and raised by her Uncle and Aunt. After spending most of her life as Romanian Anca, she eventually returns to Hungary after the fall of the Soviet Union to reclaim her identity as Eva.

Forced to hide Eva Farkas for almost half a century, Anca Balaj becomes a survivor: She survives the war, the Nazis and the Communists who took her family, and a string of interesting, greedy men, who are for Anca simply a means to an end. As the pages of history turn, Anca's circumstances rob her of the chance to find lasting happiness: Fleeting moments of joy seemingly always end in tragedy. She lives in the moment, taking each day as it comes, yet despite this she is never selfish or cruel. Anca is admirable in the face of adversity, consistently showing compassion and kindness.

It is when she returns to Hungary in her middle age as Eva Farkas that her life is transformed. No longer relying on others for her survival, Eva's fear of having lived her life as a hidden Jew with fake Romanian papers finally subsides, and she is free to face the new world with hope. Eva is not Anca: Eva is a Jew and proclaims it. Eva is Hungarian by birth and admits it. Eva is proud of her heritage and her history, and through this recognition she is finally able to leave Anca behind and move forward in true love and happiness.

**Received as an ARC through NetGalley. Many thanks to the author and the publisher for allowing me to read and review this novel: It is a wonderfully heart-warming story.

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