creative writing

Book Review: Can You Keep a Secret?

Sophie Kinsella’s 2003 ‘stand-alone’ novel ‘Can You Keep a Secret?‘ recently caught my eye. Between the hectic storm of day to day life, in the moments where I can put my feet up, I have been absorbed in Emma’s relatable life of humorous disaster.

Emma, the protagonist, is character you can sympathise with. Even 16 years later. Between her whirlwind life of awkward moments, difficult career path and her heart-wrenchingly dysfunctional family life, Emma is a timeless character the modern young woman will recognise. She is full of good intentions that circumstance always seems to twist and turn into little white lies. So when Emma unintentionally spills out all her secrets to her top boss, her world is thrown upside down.

Jack, the romantic masculine character with a vast fortunate, perhaps too soon seems to be the answer to all of Emma’s problems. Inevitably, today’s feminist critique of literature would be very sceptical of this. However a large part of Emma is a strong and confident woman. She feels confident enough to speak up for the inequalities between them, and even her two other flatmates encourage her to recognise her rights. Instead, Jack has walked out of a Jane Austen novel and chosen to pop into 2003. He is thoughtful, well-intentioned and meaningful; His millions are almost invisible.

When life gives you lemons – lie?

Whilst somewhat predictable, with points where I screamed for Emma to speak up for herself, Kinsella’s book was funny, satisfying and a downright pleasure to read. Even though the book has aged well, imagining 2003 flip phones, crazy hair dos and 00’s clothes (pink crochet!?) was a comforting blast from the past (particularly as we approach 2020!).

Verdict? A definite recommendation for my friends. Kinsella certainly came through on the humour/’chick-flit’/contemporary romance front. Crucially, she has created something both timeless and nostalgic, before the age of Tinder and a Google search engine to pour your woes into. It raises a moral questioning of why we lie; provoking the idea that we should be brave and transform our lives for the better, like Emma, and step forth into an honest world. A strong 7/10.

creative writing

The Poison Bed: Book Review

Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust,

Like diamonds, we are cut with our own dust. –The Duchess of Malfi

Love, politics, truth and lies: E.C. Fremantle’s newly released book ‘The Poison Bed’ is ravelled around the secretive nature of the 1615 Jacobean court. Frances, from the old and prestigious Howard family, has been raised to survive the politics of power. Robert, her husband, has the influence and trust of the king. So as the story unfurls the backlash of stepping too close the flame of King James, the stakes of the couple’s lives get higher. They are accused of murder and someone will pay the price.

‘Love, Politics, Truth and Lies’

At first sceptical of a fictional historical book, my doubts were soon ridiculed as Fremantle takes you by the hand and introduces you through life under James I and VI like you have never seen it before. Following the recent troupe of opening the female narrative of Early Modern history, Fremantle gives us the spectacular character of Frances. She is strong, the victim of her great-uncle’s survival training. Echoing Philippa Gregory’s eye-opening ‘The White Queen’ series, it is refreshing to see women’s history reaching the fiction shelves. Moreover, Robert’s homosexual character and lucrative relationship with James reaffirms LGBTQ+ history. Fremantle delicately hits a lot of literary considerations, without disrupting the carefully laid out historical aspect of her book.

‘With every page I turned, I found myself becoming more and more glued’

As an English and History BA student, this is something I can really sink my teeth into. With each page I turned, I found myself become more and more glued, the stakes getting higher, and the extent of the threat Frances and Robert are under becoming more increased. It was pleasing that Fremantle nurtures historically accurate, or at least plausible, narrative and provides a satisfying scope of aristocratic life in 1615: unlike the modern twists that somewhat tainted Reign.

With desire, fear, and threat running throughout the increasing tense plot, I feel that we have a lot to learn from this book, Brexit considered. How close dare you stand to flame of power without getting burned?