Our Bookseller Recommendations
Ducks
by Kate Beaton
At first the catchy title seems to misrepresent this powerful, genre-defying graphic novel memoir. But Kate Beaton's masterfully drawn account of her two years working in Alberta's oil fields gradually reveals a strong connection to these waterfowl's migratory nature and their intersection with environmental destruction. Kate, a Nova Scotian woman with a liberal arts degree, is far from one's typical image of an oil sands worker. I was immediately drawn to her unique perspective into an industry I would have otherwise continued to comfortably overlook. With equal precedence, she recollects trauma and daily mundanity, propelling an undercurrent of tacit yet stark social and environmental commentary.
Grace, St Andrews
Winner of the International Booker Prize 2024
Kairos
by Jenny Erpenbeck
This is a brilliant, allegorical novel by one of Germany's most powerful contemporary authors. On the surface, this is the story of a love affair between a young student and an older, married man. Erpenbeck deploys all her skills to interweave a fascinating depiction of the dying years of the GDR with an intense portrayal of abusive love.
Lucy, Ely
Cloistered
by Catherine Coldstream
Joining the Akenside Priory in her mid twenties, Catherine embraced her new faith and vocation with a burning passion - a dedication that gleams throughout from her heartfelt prose. However, even within the tight-knit world of an enclosed monastic order, many of humanity's most destructive and worrying flaws were ever present. Catherine's account is a testament to the ideals of faith and belonging, and how the struggles of simply being human can bring a person to the highest heavens and the deepest abyss.
Harry, St Andrews
A Flat Place
by Noreen Masud
A decidedly unique blend of memoir and nature writing, Masud’s compelling writing pulls us into her world and details her enduring obsession with flat landscapes. Jumping between her difficult upbringing in Pakistan and her gentle and gradual exploration of Britain’s flattest regions, she deftly weaves together a story of trauma and colonialism, love and acceptance.
Rachel, Edinburgh
Clear
by Carys Davies
A heart-wrenching and hopeful story that says so much in so few pages. As the Clearances finally reach the remotest parts of the Highlands, a newly married minister is sent to evict the last occupant of a fictional Hebridean island. The drama that follows is surprising and moving and perfectly told. Davies' spare yet profound writing reminded me of Claire Keegan's, the remote island setting made me think of Audrey Magee's The Colony, but Clear is a masterpiece in its own right.
Lucy, Ely
Knife
by Salman Rushdie
This was the first time I have picked up a book by Rushdie, but who doesn’t know at least some of the stories and facts surrounding this famous writer. Presenting us with a biographical account of the happenings around the vicious attack on his life in 2022 had piqued my interest.
Rushdie subtitles his memoirs as ‘Meditations after an Attempted Murder’. The story never feels disjointed even though we get a fragmentary asides into his life shortly before the attack, through his recovery and into the way he leads his life today.
Not only has Rushdie found a voice to describe the horrendous account but he also puts it in contrast with his beautiful writing. He knows how to craft a sentence. In particular one part stood out for me: Rushdie imagined a dialogue between his would-be murderer and himself after the attack. As this meeting never took place, the honestness, braveness and mental capability to engage with his attacker in this manner left me in awe and reflects Rushdie's status as a world class writer.
Julia, St Andrews
Fassbinder Thousands of Mirrors
by Ian Penman
Once again, Fitzcarraldo lay claim to their 'coolest cats on the publishing scene' crown with Penman's erratic meditations on the mercurial director, Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Written in complete isolation under a weeks-long timeframe, Penman emulates Fassbinder's breakneck approach to writing and directing. Skipping across biography, aesthetics, semiotics, memoir, and history, Thousands of Mirrors is like the first crack of light through hungover eyes: grimy, barely lucid, and yet full of unexpected realisations. Read it and your breath starts to smell of stale Helles, your nails turn to yellow.
Andrew F, Edinburgh