LITTLE LOVE by HERBERT KASTLE

 LITTLE LOVE

by

HERBERT KASTLE

THE BLURB:
Nick Leib walked into the shop and saw her.

She was about half her age but the tingling in his groin told him that wasn't going to mean a thing.

It began as a novelty, like the toys he carried in his sample case. But little by little- as they clung to each other in bed, and played hell with each other out of it- he had to admit that things were getting more than a little serious.

Then he knew he had to keep her at all costs.

THE REALITY:
This 1973 beauty has been described as a bit of a trashy novel- up there with the likes of Jacqueline Susann and Jackie Collins- and it is! And it's fantastic! This is the second time around with this one for me- I first read it thirty years ago, when my mum found it at a jumble sale and presented it to me. It didn't disappoint then, and it didn't now. My one dislike was in the proofreading (mistyped words, letters left off and a totally wrong word obviously used, and it wasn't hard to work out what should have been typed), and I totally loved the fact that our Little Love, Ellie, shares the same birthday as me. Little things please little minds, etc...

This, to me, is a sad, heartbreaking book. We've all been there and pursued a relationship which would be better left alone, but sometimes the physical draw is just... too much to resist. And why should you? Chemistry is not a bad place to start when building a relationship. But... this pair are a car crash couple. Why, oh why, can they both not take a step back, have a think and be honest about what they want from each other? And why can't they commit properly and not (spoiler alert) sleep with other people during their romance, although the way sex is used to mask insecurity, and also as an act of revenge is discussed in a somewhat raw manner. The affairs of this couple's hearts come across clearly, destructively and painfully, as does Nick's descent into pathetic obsession, and that's good penmanship. Nick's profession is as an inventor of toys, and I like the way he compares the things he goes through to a game.

The writing was very much of its time and excellent, with the characters and their background stories fully and skilfully explored, and we learn the effect abuse can have on an individual soul. I loved the playground of the east coast of the USA (I've been to New York and Florida, too) and the way the customs and culture of that time and place were described.

The lengths Nick will go to to keep his girl are astonishing and violent, and his behaviour when he does have her questionable- it's almost like he only wants her when he can't have her, although we are assured this is not the case. When Ellie, at the end questions how he got away with all he did, we have to ask that too (although I'm glad he did- I have a special ball of affection for an anti-hero!) About the time of my first read, I had a long, drawn-out break-up with someone, and I think we can all relate to that guts-shot-to-pieces feeling, when it seems like we haven't eaten properly for an age. 

The ending was brief, sad and great, and possibly the only way this heart-rendering novel could go. This one can stay in my bookcase awhile.

YOUTUBE SOUTHEND-ON-SEA VLOG LIVE...

My Southend-on-Sea vlog is now live!

Click on this link:-

https://youtu.be/MKwrpPb3E20

The first time I ever walked down Southend Pier was with this chap, in either 1996 or 1997.

He was really pleased to find a massive weighing scale down the end of the pier (it went up to 24 stone), as he was too heavy for standard bathroom scales!

He was called "Big Wayne" for a reason, and was 6'5" tall with a 52" chest and weighed 19½ stone. I took a photo of him standing on that scale but have no idea where it is now- I know I don't have it.

But I dedicated my Southend vlog to him, as you will find out when you watch it...

Come and see the unusual side to Southend-on-Sea, as I take you to Never Never Land, a Wunderkammer, and also through Southend Cliff Gardens, as well as strolling down the world's longest pier.

Whilst my videography was better than previous efforts it was still somewhat lacklustre, so this is another photo montage, taken over several different visits.

As you know, I will always be a writer before anything else, so here are links to my previous Southend blogs.

Southend Cliff Gardens:-

http://elainerockett.blogspot.com/2020/10/miss-elaineous-visits-southend-cliff.html

The Wunderkammer at Southend Central Museum:-

http://elainerockett.blogspot.com/2023/02/miss-elaineous-visits-wunderkammer-at.html

Southend Pier Museum:-

http://elainerockett.blogspot.com/2023/02/miss-elaineous-visits-southend-pier.html

Never Never Land:-

http://elainerockett.blogspot.com/2021/09/miss-elaineous-visits-never-never-land.html

 

😀

Enjoy the video, don't forget to hit the subscribe, like and notification buttons, hit follow on this blog as well and I'll see you soon.

TTFN

Miss Elaineous

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GHOSTS by DOLLY ALDERTON

 GHOSTS

by

DOLLY ALDERTON

THE BLURB:

Nina Dean has arrived at her early thirties as a successful food writer with loving friends and family, plus a new home and neighbourhood. When she meets Max, a beguiling romantic hero who tells her on date one that he's going to marry her, it feels like it's all going to plan.

A new relationship couldn't have come at a better time- her thirties have not been the liberating, uncomplicated experience she was expecting. Everywhere she turns, she is reminded of time passing and opportunities dwindling. Friendships are fading, ex-boyfriends are moving on and, worse, everyone's moving to the suburbs. There's no solace to be found in her family, with a mum caught in a baffling mid-life makeover and a beloved dad who is vanishing in slow motion into dementia.

Dolly Alderton's debut novel is funny and tender, filled with whip-smart observations about relationships, family, memory and how we live now.

THE REALITY:

Bah! I picked up this charity shop find as I was shopping quickly (I hate shopping) and had recently read two ghost stories, so I thought I'd give a third a go. But no, this appeared to be about the modern phenomenon (probably not that modern, just done differently) of ghosting someone- i.e., reeling them in then deserting them and not responding to their messages.

Meh. I'm generally no fan of chick lit, not being a “gaggles of girls” kind of person. But then neither is our heroine, and the hen night she has to attend was funny and cringe-worthy to read. I'm probably not a “gaggles of people” kind of person either- my lifetime close friendship circle is not enough to fill a room, and I like it that way (I prefer to travel without emotional baggage). But it turns out that Nina, our heroine, reduces the hangers on (and gives some she retains an ultimatum) in the space of a year, too. I found that I quite liked her!

The one thing I struggle with with chick lit is the fact that so many of these early thirty-somethings have fantastic careers. That wasn't my experience at that age, as I was going through the classic quarter life crisis, which was something that was just beginning to become acknowledged at the time. My boyfriend at the time accused me of “wasting the best years of my life” not having regular employment (I was freelancing), but for me they were not good years- that came later, in my mid to late thirties when I owned my own place. And it's here that I can relate to Nina, with her joy at her independence.

I've been a victim of the phenomenon of having a man “ghost” me (he was a rebound relationship in my thirties). But after leaving a couple of messages, including some abusives (which I'm inordinately proud of) I quickly moved on to someone else, and duly ignored his messages when they appeared a few months later. Yes, like Nina, I agree that this kind of behaviour is pathetic, and I'm glad she chose to pull Jethro up about it.

Some interesting and very real subjects were explored here, such as a lack of connection with a mother; a father descending into dementia; the way modern men of forty tend to go for much younger women, therefore keeping certain options open, and I'm familiar with Archway, Nina's place of residence, so could kind of relate to certain facets.

This book is certainly worth a go.

THE THIRTEENTH TALE by DIANE SETTERFIELD

 

THE THIRTEENTH TALE

by

DIANE SETTERFIELD

THE BLURB:
Angelfield House stands abandoned and forgotten. It was once the imposing home of the March family- fascinating, manipulative Isabelle, Charlie, her brutal and dangerous brother, and the wild, untamed twins, Emmeline and Adeline. But Angelfield House conceals a chilling secret whose impact still resonates...

Now Margaret Lea is investigating Angelfield's past- and the mystery of the March family starts to unravel. What has the house been hiding? What is its connection with the enigmatic author Vida Winter? And what is it in Margaret's own troubled past that causes her to fall so powerfully under Angelfield's spell?

THE REALITY:
I first saw this book as a TV adaption, starring Olivia Coleman and Vanessa Regrave, coincidentally exactly ten years before reading this charity shop book (I recognised the title as the TV adaption was compelling, and right up my street). This is a must for fans of spooky houses, atmospheric settings and eccentric characters. In fact, further recommended reading is listed as Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier and The Turn of The Screw by Henry James. I've read all but the latter- something I intend to remedy soon- some more than once and have seen several TV adaptions of those fine tales.

The book differs slightly from the TV adaption in that certain things were changed for dramatic screen effect. In the book the housekeeper dies a natural death, and doesn't fall through the roof. In the book Margaret was once a conjoined twin, whom she was separated from at birth, with the twin dying immediately, but on screen Margaret let go of her twin's hand after a row as kids, with the twin getting run over by a car as she ran back towards Margaret. Margaret, of course, suffers immense guilt in both versions, but in the book she only finds out about the existence of her twin by accident, and her mother doesn't seem to be able to get beyond the fact that she's very lucky to have one child alive and healthy. It's a classic case of families lacking the ability to communicate effectively and talk about their issues, and I'm sorry that this kind of thing still goes on nowadays. Incidentally, it's quite ambivalent regarding what era the book is set in, but this doesn't detract from the novel. I'm going to guess with the 1990s for the modern day parts (mobile phones don't feature, and not everybody had one then) which would put the historical time frame as the 1920s/1930s.

Incidentally, it sounds like Margaret and her sister had twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome- that happens to one of my main characters in my novel The Reject's Club. Here is my Amazon link to that novel:-

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Rejects-Club-Elaine-Rockett/dp/1500563366

I did remember that there were actually (BIG SPOILER ALERT!) three little girls, with the third person either the cousin of the girls or- more likely- their half-sister, as Charlie liked to harm and interfere with his unstable sister, and mother of the twins, Isabelle (sometimes consensually on both levels). This is the bit I remembered wrongly- I thought there'd been triplets, not a girl of a similar age. It's not the first time I've seen dodgy relationships between brothers and sisters explored- I believe it features in The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton, and I myself have written a (yet unpublished) piece with incest as a theme.

An interesting book which looks at sibling relationships, especially those between twins, and there are yet more twists towards the end which draw the reader in. Intelligently written, with some new long words for me to learn (I always like that), this was a great read as I love a good “ghost” story. But my favourite character was Aurelius, a lovely, sunny man with his own overlay of sadness then truth. Read it to see what I mean- you won't be disappointed.

S-S-SPIRALLING

When we visited Burgh House in Hampstead in the summer, we chanced upon this competition brief.  The room was full of objects, and you had to use them to put together a story or poem.

I didn't win or get a runner-up place, but I thought I'd share my poem with you.

It's a tad strange, but it's what the objects inspired in me.

The brief...

S-S-SPIRALLING

'S-S-Sissy, S-S-Sissy!'

He stutters my name with his sibilant hiss,

Words convoluted, love amiss,

Because my name is Hermione...

Identity desecrated I'm called by my other, named for my mother,

Who is my jailer, traversing this creeping mansion?

An excellent match, my guardians assured,

He sought them- they procured.

A dress already owned, Art Deco and old-fashioned,

A wedding band too, it fitted as if made,

What a curious thing to do!

Provide for a bride before finding a bride!

Did as I was bid, heart s-s-spiralling away,

That singular glint in his eyes; marked curiosity,

My wedding night whispering my name (her name),

Locked and ignored inside, except when he needed release.

Wandering around I found,

A portrait of my mother, painted by my father,

At our piano, way before they died,

S-s-savage memories.

Too s-s-scared of being pinched,

Rolling flesh between his fingers,

Though he still murmured her in my ear,

His bitterness projected at me.

The housekeeper told he was engaged to be wed,

Uninspired she cancelled just before the banns,

Ran with my father, whose face I wear,

Punished for their s-s-sins.

I found an old lamp, his weakness his cups,

Unconscious for hours, the housekeeper matching,

Wandering the Heath at night for companionship,

The nightwatchman in his bothy.

But he must have known, s-s-scratches at the door,

In flagrante delicto,

S-s-swelling in my tummy but my lord used a contraption,

Disgusting, reusable, s-s-spiralling his way.

He has power- my lover disappeared,

S-s-slipped me an overdose they said,

But I will haunt him- he took everything from me,

S-s-subtly- enough to make him think he's going mad.

An object disappearing here, a curtain floating there; a midnight taunt in his ear,

Bought his own chair- a Bauhaus,

A nest of tables for his beating tattoo fingers,

For when his deserved psychiatrist visits.

But I continued my vial of vengeance,

Until all left, smeared by association unneeded,

He now converses with a penguin in the corner- it's not real!

The asylum beckons- but I will haunt and never let up.

My name is Hermione, now that's the only name he ever whispers,

'Leave me be, Hermione! Leave me be, Hermione!'

S-s-spiralling into that monochrome vortex- respect gained,

But I will never stop until 'til his death takes its own s-s-sweet toll.

Copyright©Elaine Rockett 

The procured wedding dress...

The portrait of the mother...

The lamp...

The chair and nest of Bauhaus tables...

The penguin...

Here is the link to my full Hampstead blog:-

http://elainerockett.blogspot.com/2023/06/miss-elaineous-visits-hampstead.html

I hope you enjoyed my weird and wonderful poem!

TTFN

Miss Elaineous

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