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This was an interesting memoir, and one that really resonated for me because, like Wix, I've lost relatives to dementia and brain tumours, so I could strongly relate both to her stories of losing them and how to deal with the grief that comes over you after that. It covers a lot of ground other than that, though, and structuring it around memories of cake is an interesting way to frame a life, but it brings in her other themes of body image and mental health. It's easy for a story like this to sprawl into lots of different parts that don't cohere or just become a series of anecdotes, but there's a strong shape to this even if it only comes together towards the end as she begins to understand and process everything that's happened to her. One thing worth noting is that yes, this is Katy Wix the actor (from Ghosts, Not Going Out, Stath Lets Flats etc) but no, this isn't a typical celebrity memoir or autobiography, and if you come here looking for amusing insights into life behind the scenes on that show you like, you're not going to find it. Acting and writing, are her job, not her entire life, and where they do intrude on this story it's because they connect to her wider life, not as a focus in themselves.

I had never read any of Proust's work prior to picking up this new Pushkin Press translation of Swann In Love. Being familiar with his name though and seeing that this book is a standalone novella, I thought it would be a good chance to sample 'one of the world's best novelists'. I am glad to have taken the opportunity and I can certainly understand why Proust is so acclaimed, however I can also say that Swann In Love will probably be my first and last venture into this author's work and thank goodness I didn't act upon my first idea of trying to read anything in the original French!

That said, there is a lot I appreciated about Swann In Love. The character portrayals are superb and I felt Proust perfectly captured the rarified atmosphere and intense snobbery of the Verdurin's social set. Swann himself is an awful, self-serving and self-centered person with a tremendously overblown sense of his own importance. I recognised quite early on that his all consuming romance with courtesan Odette was a mostly one-sided affair, and I would love to read this same novella from Odette's perspective. Has that story been written? Her refusal to mould herself into the woman Swann wants her to be is refreshing and makes his frequent complaints about her lack of the 'correct' taste humorous rather than sinister. I was reminded of George du Maurier's Trilby for whom the opposite becomes true.

What made Swann In Love a slog for me to read though was its long-winded, verbose style which often saw my focus wandering. In this, the book is obviously very much of its time. The style might not be so off-putting to fans of Victorian (and thereabouts) era literature, but for me, having not read such an old novel for a while, it was a bit too hard going so I can't see myself going on to read the further works in the trilogy.

I'm still using my Derren Brown 'Svengali' tour mug which Mum got for me after I saw his show. The historic name is as much a cultural cliche for dark hypnotic power as the word 'Trilby' denotes a certain style of hat. It had never occurred to me to learn where either originated yet it turns out that George Du Maurier's novel is the source for both. Wildly popular in its day, Trilby is now considered a classic, the Wordsworth Classics edition being the one I spotted in a Spanish campsite library. Personally, I am not sure that the novel has aged well! The underlying storyline is a great idea, but its telling is very much of the time. Told by a condescending first person narrator who doesn't actually feature in the story, we get lots of personal asides (frequently snobbish, sexist and racist) which slow the flowery writing style. I enjoyed the atmospheric descriptions of 1860s Paris, but was often infuriated by Du Maurier's pace - get on with it! The potentially most interesting part of the novel, Trilby's take-over by Svengali and her fantastic musical breakthrough, actually happen 'offstage' so the reader is presented with reports of the fait accompli, and while I'm showing off my French, a warning that Du Maurier does that a lot. Often whole conversations are in French with little or nothing by way of translation. Hopefully much of it was just small talk as, overall, I probably missed half a dozen pages this way. The characters are strong although, again, very much of their time. Our insipid English hero, Little Billee, is suitably upstanding; his chums are both Good Sorts; etc. Trilby herself is initially a refreshing change. She makes her own money by modelling for artists and is blithely independent. Of course, as time goes by, she is taught to be ashamed of such a lifestyle and to take pleasure from domestic drudgery instead, and her great success comes only at the instigation of a man, but at least she started out promisingly! Vicious antisemitism is the other big problem with the novel. Svengali is a nasty piece of work. I don't mind that - the tale needs a good villain. But Svengali isn't just A Bad Man. It's repeatedly made plain that his badness is due to his being Jewish and du Maurier's insults descend to real childish namecalling. As du Maurier spends the rest of the book trying to impart a sense of his own superiority, this really stands out as bizarre. I recognised the truths of Lao She's premise in Mr Ma And Son. In that 1920s novel She condems the repeated negative media depictions of Chinese people for the unrealistic way in which the Chinese were (and still are) perceived in England. I can see the same concept at work in the Victorian antisemitism of Trilby. I'm not sure if I enjoyed reading Trilby or not. Some sections are beautifully written with energy, atmosphere and a real knowledge of the Paris of the day. Other sections are slow, ridiculously sentimental or simply pointless. A note to current authors: if you feel the need for your hero to start talking at length to a dog, please don't report every single word to your readers!

With Two Souls is an uplifting joint memoir co-written by English midwife Indie McDowell and Ethiopian midwife Atsede Kidane. Through their eyes and alternating narration I was able to witness and understand not only the typical events and emergencies of any birthing centre anywhere, but also the added complications of that centre being located in an area of south-western Ethiopia that had previously lacked a facility of this kind. I was moved by Indie and Atsede's determination to open their own clinic and, especially, to make this a place where the staff cared about their patients instead of simply caring for them. As it was explained to readers, I felt this was an important distinction to make and I could frequently recognise its ramifications.

Indie and Atsede take turns to recount significant incidents over the past few years, these recollections then leading them into other reminiscences. I loved how this structure meant I got to see what had happened from both perspectives which was particularly interesting when the two approached a situation from very different cultural viewpoints and training backgrounds. What might be the latest practice in a Western hospital isn't necessarily going to translate successfully to a relatively rural Ethiopian one where women frequently lack access to antenatal and postnatal healthcare, reliable transport options or even, sometimes, adequate hygiene. The traditional practice of female circumcision is also an ever present complication.

While With Two Souls doesn't shy away from the messier aspects of birth and the book does include some moments where babies and mothers could not be saved despite the nursing staff's best efforts, overall I found this book to be a heartwarming read. What came across most strongly for me was the professional camaraderie and deep friendship that has developed between Indie and Atsede over their years of working so closely together. These women are truly inspirational. I am so happy to have had this opportunity to read their book, learning about their lives and how their determination and dedication is making a real difference to hundreds of womens lives across Cheha Woreda and further afield.

I took a chance on reading Miracle On Cherry Hill having spotted it in a canalside book exchange and been entranced by Nomoco's whimsical cover illustrations which are also featured within the book between each of the chapters. I felt that Miracle On Cherry Hill was kind of a Korean Scrooge tale without ghosts per se, but with the central character, Kang, returning to his childhood home, a place where he had not been particularly happy and had experienced tragedy, wanting to lock himself away there from the rest of the world.

Surrounded by his own memories and desperate to seclude himself from the village just outside his property's fence, Kang initially raises the strongest fences he can - both physically and mentally - but he soon learns that the villagers will find their way inside anyway and that his own life is enriched by their presence. He also comes to realise that his own view of the past is not necessarily the same as that remembered by his neighbours still living from that time. Understanding their perceptions allows Kang to revisit those difficult childhood years with new insights, forgiving himself as well as the people who he believed had wronged him so long ago.

I loved how the Cherry Hill garden is both a real place, within the novel, and also a metaphor for Kang's mind. Sun-Mi Hwang evocatively describes this almost magical place in gorgeous detail. The novella is a fast read, but one with profound emotional depths that prompted me to keep thinking about its message long after I finished.

I didn't know anything about the historic case of the Groveland Four prior to reading Accidental Activist. Four young black men had been accused of raping a young white woman in the town of Groveland in 1949. Over sixty years later, and despite the men's innocence having been established in the meantime, the four were still legally considered guilty of the crime with the two who hadn't been killed spending almost their entire lives in prison as a result. Josh Venkataraman read a book about the case, Devil In The Grove, as part of his university studies. He then took the decision to contact the book's author, Gilbert King, and started his attempt to reverse this long-standing miscarriage of justice.

As a fairly prolific petition signer and disgruntled-email writer myself, I could empathise with Venkataraman's desire to effect change. I've never actually felt strongly enough about anything to start my own petition though so I was very interested to follow his journey. This book details the myriad steps and connections he needed in order to keep everything moving forward and I was surprised by just how long everyone involved needed to keep plugging away in order to hit that critical moment when the campaign suddenly took on a life of its own. Particularly disappointing, of course, was the lack of will of several politicians (although others did all they could).

As an example of what one might expect when undertaking such a campaign, Accidental Activist is an excellent resource. Venkataraman writes in an accessible style with his enthusiasm and dedication shining from every page. I appreciated that although this was a legal fight, the book is not written in legal language so I could always understand what was going on! I would have liked more information about the original case and interceding years because I had to quickly google this early on. Accidental Activist is specifically a memoir recounting Venkataraman's experience however so including all that would have altered the balance of the book.

I feel a strong sense over the past few years that individual efforts are creating real change in the world and it's so encouraging to see young people standing up against wrongful actions too. I hope Accidental Activist inspires other readers to follow in Venkataraman's footsteps.

I saw lots of enthusiasm for The Poppy War from other book reviewers and bloggers over the past few years since its publication so put it on my wishlist, but I didn't make any further efforts towards reading this book until it was suggested for February's Readalong and I realised it is actually a perfect My WorldReads fit. I learned that The Poppy War series, while being an imaginative fantasy adventure tale, is also strongly reflective of China's twentieth century history. While I am not knowledgeable enough on that topic to spot all the references, I could recognise significant events such as the Opium Wars themselves of course and also the horrors of Nanking which is retold here in a city called Golyn Niis.

From the early chapters where young Rin is mercilessly driving herself to achieve and then succeed in an education to which many people feel she is not entitled, I could understand that The Poppy War was not going to be a light tale, but that didn't prepare me for the grim darkness that Kuang takes us to. This is not a novel for the faint-hearted, especially when considering that its most gruesome scenes aren't fantasy at all. That said, I found Rin's story to be a compelling read which has left me eager to plunge into the sequel.

Rin herself is brilliantly complex and, frequently, not someone with whom I could easily sympathise, even though I could always understand why she makes certain choices. Kuang is skilled at making her protagonists utterly believable while giving them jaw-dropping supernatural abilities and incorporating mythological aspects. This combination allowed me to completely suspend my disbelief while I was breathlessly immersed in Rin's reality.

I'm delighted to have finally started to experience The Poppy War series and hope that I won't wait so long before starting on the second novel!

Wild Sheep Chase is for me, the perfect version of Murakami's work. The real magic of his work is his ability to easy you into a surreal narrative just slowly enough that you're always engaged but never surprised. Wild Sheep Chase nails that effect so so well. It's honestly one of my favorite books of all time.

No joke this is the one novel I'd suggest to people if they wanted to start with Murakami. I would actually specifically recommend reading this prior to Hear the Wind Sing or Pinball 1973 (the first two parts of the Trilogy of the Rat). I know it sounds a little weird but I think this book is better if you don't have that context the first time through. Then you can have the very gratifying experience of going back to the first two novels and getting all that sweet sweet lore. For me at least that order makes the story so much more complex and satisfying.