The Evolution of Bruno Littlemore by Benjamin Hale

Bruno Littlemore: linguist, artist, philosopher. A life defined by a soaring mind, yet bound by a restrictive body. Born in downtown Chicago, Bruno's precocity pulls him from an unremarkable childhood, and under the tuition of Lydia, his intellect dazzles a watching world. But when he and his mentor fall in love, the world turns on them with outrage: Bruno is striving to be something he is not, and denying everything that he is. For despite his all too human complexities, dreams and frailties, Bruno's hairy body, flattened nose and jutting brow are, undeniably, the features of a chimpanzee.

The Evolution of Bruno Littlemore was published back in April, and caused nary a splash as it hit an unsuspecting public. I've seen very few reviews and not many discussion points concerning this novel. It's not been put onto any longlists or shortlists that I'm aware of, and Benjamin Hale has not been feted as one of the bravest debut novelists of recent times.

In my opinion, The Evolution of Bruno Littlemore should have exploded into people's consciousness. It should have been reviewed by people who admire both contemporary/literary works and those who appreciate a more speculative bent to their fiction.

I can't even point to a particular reason why it didn't perform as well as it should have. Possibly because this is a large brick of a debut novel, and people these days don't like to put out cash on an unrecognised name. Possibly because the subject matter is so bizarre and, at times, outright taboo.

For me, The Evolution of Bruno Littlemore was virtually as challenging a read as comes along. It challenged my perceptions of what it means to be human. It challenged my ideas of science versus art. It shocked me into laughter at times. At other points I was curling my lip in disgust and reading the novel through eyes blinkered by societal norms. This is a bolshy, brazen novel that does not shy away from that final step into offensiveness and darkness.

Bruno is the very definition of an unreliable narrator. He is telling his story to "Gwen", who remains off-screen for the duration of the tale. Everything we find out about Bruno himself and the life he leads is coloured by his own neurosis, arrogance and self-loathing. He is frustrating, witty, compassionate, rambling and often incredibly difficult to read about. Apart from the fact that you spend much of the novel suspending disbelief about the very nature of Bruno and his relationship with Lydia, sometimes Bruno can also be pretty bloody unlikeable. But he is a magnetic narrator, and I remained mesmerised by his story almost all the way through.

I say "almost", because sometimes The Evolution of Bruno Littlemore descends into a rambling mess. Sometimes it feels pretentious. Sometimes the language was wilfully difficult to process - beyond purple prose. When it touches the heights of its prose, though, it is difficult to imagine a better novel. It defies belief that this is a debut novel.

I admired particularly the level of intellect and discussion present in The Evolution of... such as the following passage:

"I hope that the future's scholars of dramaturgy (if indeed such people will exist in the future) will recognise that I, Bruno Littlemore, was the first actor to realise that the role of Caliban should be played through an evolutionary perspective. While I understand The Tempest was first performed in 1612, a good two and a half centuries before the publications of Charles Darwin, on closely studying the text, I find it hard to believe that Shakespeare was not in some way anachronistically informed and even influenced by The Origin of the Species. Time perhaps is not as uninterestingly linear as we imagine, Gwen. Shakespeare was at the very least a clear premonition of his future fellow Englishman. I even go so far as to imagine that the ship in The Tempest is the Beagle, and Prospero's island, Galapagos."

When it was applied in the following passage, it made me snort with laughter:

"We watched the cartoons that take eternal pursuit as their theme: both the amorous pursuit of lover and beloved [...] as well as the violent pursuit of predator and prey: Coyote and Road Runner, Sylvester and Tweety, Tom and Jerry...all that mythic pursuit! - the endless flux of the chase, the magnetic push-and-pull of aggression and defense, of repulsion and desire!...perhaps the true spirit of myth - of Echo and Narcissus, of Achilles and Hector - survives for us, in its pure form, only in cartoons."

So, how to conclude my thoughts on this novel? Probably to say that The Evolution of Bruno Littlemore is more than good enough for you to spend money on. Probably also to say that if you were to buy only one more novel this year, you should make it this. It is dark, brave, satirical and surprisingly tender and moving. The story of Bruno Littlemore demands patience and attention, but it is worth every minute.

What the Nanny Saw by Fiona Neill

When Ali Sparrow answers Bryony Skinner's advertisement for a nanny, her life changes in a heartbeat. At first everything is overwhelming, from twins who speak their own language, to a teenager with weight issues and a son almost her own age. And of course Bryony - oozing privilege thanks to a millionaire father, high-flying husband and her own dazzling career - has a beady eye that focuses on Ali's failings.

But as Ali becomes increasingly indispensible, she realises she's the wallpaper no one notices anymore, which means she's witness to things she probably shouldn't see. So when a scandal erupts that suggests something corrupt has been hatched behind the Skinners' flawless front door, who is better placed than Ali to tell all?

But where do her loyalties lie? To the family she ran away from - or the family of strangers who took her in?

There has been a lot of commentary recently about chick lit and its place in the literary spectrum - with What the Nanny Saw, Fiona Neill makes a beautiful riposte. It has all the components of a chick lit novel - over-the-top characters, a slightly contrived situation, a romance that you can see coming - but places them within a fiercely intelligent story examining the minutiae of scandal, finance and the media.

On the face of it, we are reading about Ali Sparrow and her attempts to play the part of a Mary Poppins character in an obscenely rich family. Her job is cut out for her, considering she barely sees the two parents and they communicate with her via their Blackberries. However, Fiona Neill sets this against the backdrop of the fall of Lehman Brothers - the father of the Skinner family, Nick, holds a prominent position in the bank, and revels shamelessly in the multi-million bonuses he receives each year.

This acknowledgement of how current affairs affected those in the maelstrom of the collapsing financial situation is something I have never seen articulated quite so well before. There is a sense of utter doom as Nick tries harder and harder to shore up the failing position of Lehmans, and his manner of dealing with the crisis is incredibly believable.

As well as this, Neill examines the way that very rich families invite nannies and the like into their houses at the risk of a loss of privacy - we've seen people like Posh and Becks, and Jude Law suffer from nannies telling all. Ali's struggle with her conscience as to whether she should mention anything about what she has seen behind closed doors feels, again, very realistic.

The risk that Fiona Neill took with following a rich family is that it becomes very hard to sympathise with either Bryony or Nick. I do feel for the children, both before and after the financial crash occurs, since they could not choose the life they end up leading. But hearing about fridges and larders filled with food that spoils because they don't eat it before they buy fresh, and the Skinners having a man who comes round just to check the *lightbulbs* makes them seem incredibly out of touch. I guess that is partly the point.

And I'm afraid I found it difficult to appreciate Ali as well. I think that this might have been easier had Neill spent more time at the start of the novel showcasing Ali's life and exactly why she *needed* to take the job with the Skinners. It would also have helped when Ali kept deferring her return to university - as it was, I couldn't see precisely why she would choose a very peculiar job pandering to the needs of a very spoilt family over going back to university and forging her own life and career.

With that said, I do want a lot of people to read What the Nanny Saw. It really is a glittering example of what the very best chick lit can accomplish. In fact, I have placed a tag of contemporary on this novel as well in my review, because at times it doesn't *feel* like how most people regard chick lit at all. It is weighty, dark, satirical and very clever. Well done, Fiona Neill!

What the Nanny Saw will be published by Penguin on 18th August

Numbers by Rachel Ward

Since the day her mother died, Jem has known about the numbers. When she looks in someone's eyes, she can see the date they will die. Life is hard, until she meets a boy called Spider. Suddenly her world seems brighter. But on a trip to London, Jem foresees a chain of events that will shatter their lives forever..

Sometimes a novel comes along just at the *right* time, and Numbers by Rachel Ward was one of those books for me. We are experiencing riots here in the UK at the moment (hopefully settled down now, fingers crossed) and there has been a lot of discussion about what drove the kids to riot and loot. There was one particular part of Ward's novel that stood out for me and made me sit up: "Why do you think? It's all so simple, isn't it? Tell the truth and it will all be all right. Maybe it's like that here, but it's not where I come from. They see a black kid with some money, they see a dealer. They see a couple of kids, just chilling somewhere, hanging out, they see a couple of muggers. They need to collar someone for a crime, they collar someone - one of the usual suspects, anyone who fits the picture, doesn't matter. Truth and lies, it all gets mixed up."

Rather than the high concept science fiction novel that Numbers appears to be on first contact, it is actually more of an examination of society. It was written in 2009, two years after the bombs hit London. It shows an uneasy attitude towards certain parts of society; it highlights particular prejudices that have been around since the idea of 'haves' and 'have nots' was introduced.

Jem, the main character, is fiercely independent and knows her 'place' in the world. She is outside looking in at all those who have proper jobs, relationships and money. When she meets Spider, it is an encounter between two kindred spirits. Spider is a tall black guy, already dabbling in drugs and "deliveries" for a local gang boss. He is looked down on by some, and is intimidating to others. For me, Ward did superbly presenting these two misfit characters, and the reasons behind why people in real life might end up in poverty, excluded from school, on the outskirts of society etc. In this time of riots, it was immensely powerful.

The other part of the novel that I really enjoyed is the burgeoning love affair between Jem and Spider - it is inexpressibly tender and, above all, very real. I completely invested in these two characters.

Unfortunately, Numbers is prevented from being a top quality read by two factors. The first is that Ward seems not to know how to deal with the high concept of seeing people's death date number - at times it is used as a clumsy plot device, rather than as something that can introduce deep discussions about free will versus destiny. I would have liked to see much more of the numbers idea, including how and why this gift/curse might have been given to Jem. Some airy-fairy waved-away idea that she can just see auras is not a strong backdrop to the concept.

The second problem, for me, is that the ending of the book was a) very hurried and b) signposted from practically the start of Numbers. It was just a question of how Ward was going to get to the destination. I'm usually a gullible fool when it comes to what might happen in a novel, so, for me to grasp the ending so soon, meant that it was flagged in a very heavy-handed manner.

There was a lot to enjoy in this debut novel by Rachel Ward, albeit countered by some fundamental weaknesses. Nothing that wouldn't prevent me from picking up the second novel in the Numbers trilogy, however! I do wonder, though, how much of this review is flavoured by the fact that I could associate Numbers very much with current affairs - or is it just that bad attitudes and prejudices will always exist towards those at the bottom of society and, in fact, Ward has written about a timeless issue? Regardless, Numbers is worth your time - it is dark and poignant by turn, and kept me interested throughout.

Far From Home by Na'ima B Robert

Katie and Tariro are worlds apart but their lives are linked by a terrible secret, gradually revealed in this compelling and dramatic story of two girls grappling with the complexities of adolescence, family and a painful colonial legacy.

Some books are powerful - thanks to the prose, the story or the subject matter. Far From Home is powerful because of all three. It describes the sharp and terrible events in what used to be Rhodesia and is now Zimbabwe. It shows the rise of Robert Mugabe to power. It manages to portray both sides of a conflict that tore a country apart and was a dark period in world history.

First we meet Tariro, and gain an insight into the lives of the Karanga people. She is a bright and charming young girl, in love with the brave and handsome Nhamo. Her whole life is in front of her - but then the white settlers arrive and steal all of that life away from her.

The second part of the novel shows Katie, a pampered daughter of one of the white settler families. She has been brought up to consider black people beneath her, and is forced to confront those prejudices when her uncle takes her into his home - the uncle that has taken a black woman to wife.

There is a connection between Tariro and Katie that brings the two story lines colliding together, and is fitting and neat.

Robert's prose is stark, clean and elegant. It details the sometimes shocking events with quiet dignity and helps to evoke feelings for both Tariro and Katie, despite the fact that they are on opposing sides of the tale.

The characters are brilliantly written, and it is simply awesome to see two female protagonists take centre stage.

Robert clearly writes from the heart and has a great deal of experience in the subject matter. She manages to convey a complex political situation with direct language and a lot of sympathy.

This, as I say, is a powerful book. It is very well written. But it is not fun or light. It is challenging, thought-provoking and has enormous depth.

These Things Hidden by Heather Gudenkauf

Imprisoned for a heinous crime when she was just a teenager, Allison Glenn is now free. Desperate for a second chance, Allison discovers that the world has moved on without her...

Shunned by those who once loved her, Allison is determined to make contact with her sister. But Brynn is trapped in her own world of regret and torment.

Their legacy of secrets is focused on one little boy. And if the truth is revealed, the consequences will be unimaginable for the adoptive mother who loves him, the girl who tried to protect him and the two sisters who hold the key to all that is hidden...

These Things Hidden is not the type of book I usually read and enjoy, but I was intrigued enough by the description to say yes to a review copy. I found myself reading late into the night, saying 'just one more chapter, just one more chapter...' as I took on this gripping book. These Things Hidden is a startling, complex look at the mother-child relationship, and how different women react to it.

We principally follow the story of Allison, and I loved the way that we gradually discovered the reasons behind her jail sentence. This was handled beautifully by Gudenkauf, who gave compelling and realistic reasons for every one of Allison's actions. Despite the fact we should dislike this woman for the crime she committed, it is easy to feel great sympathy for her plight and her estrangement from her family and the life she had before.

Alongside Allison, we are shown the viewpoints of Brynn, Allison's sister, and Charm, the girl who has become embroiled in the secrets of the two sisters. Gudenkauf does sterling work presenting very different voices for these three women, and showcasing how their situations have led to the way they react when encountering Joshua Kelby, a boy who is about to become central to their lives.

These Things Hidden is a quiet story, with a chilling denouement that I just did not see coming. In fact, there were a number of twists in this relatively short book which kept me guessing. This, alongside the short chapters, meant I compulsively read These Things Hidden every chance I got - literally opening the book for five minutes while I waited for my work computer to boot up because I couldn't wait any longer to read more about Allison, Brynn and Charm. Make sure you set aside a lengthy period of time to enjoy These Things Hidden.

This is a lyrical and very poignant book, which surprised me on all levels. I am definitely going to be picking up more work by Heather Gudenkauf.