The Group, by Mary McCarthy

The Group follows the story of eight Vassar graduates in the 30s, most not really friends but somehow bonded through being ‘grouped’ together in living quarters at college. They all stay in touch after graduating even though many of them don’t actually like each other and they have little in common apart from their shared college experience. More like a series of connected short stories than a novel, the book is nonetheless perfectly structured, beginning with a wedding and ending with a funeral around eight years later. Brutally honest in its depiction of marital and sexual relationships, the tone is somewhat grim as very few of the main characters are likeable or happy. All left college with great expectations of themselves and the world, most of which are disappointed to some degree, largely because they discover that regardless of privilege, ability or enthusiasm as women they will always be second class citizens. The frustrations and ambitions of these women of the 1930s are not so different from those of the 60s, when the novel was published, or of today. It seems the continuing struggle for equality is always two steps forward and one step back. Apart from some obscure language and very local references the writing remains fresh and topical. A classic.

The Cuckoo’s Calling, by Robert Galbraith

JK Rowling’s foray into adult crime fiction is almost as engaging as her Harry Potter books. Private investigator Cormoran Strike overcame his dysfunctional childhood to achieve a successful career in the armed forces as a military police officer. Invalided out, his PI career has not been quite so successful. He is broke and in debt and essentially homeless after the bitter breakup of his long-term relationship. Into his world comes naïve temp Robin and the intriguing case of a celebrity death. Did supermodel Lola Landry jump from her Mayfair balcony or was she pushed? Her brother John has the funds to pay Cormoran to find out. Engaging characters and a fast-paced evocation of inner London help to skate over a plot that runs a little thin at times, as well as some sloppy editing. It is a pity that the denouement goes full Agatha Christie in its groan factor and exposition. Hopefully these elements have been tightened up in subsequent books as this bears all the hallmarks of another successful franchise, with a TV series in the pipeline.

The Edge of Seventeen (2016), directed by Kelly Fremon Craig

Adolescence is difficult enough to navigate, but when you are already an anxious and awkward kid and you lose your Dad – who was your rock – it goes beyond difficult to almost impossible. Nadine’s best friend Krista is the only one who keeps her close to sane, so when Krista hooks up with her despised jock brother Darien, her world collapses. Painful and funny, Hailee Steinfield is outstanding as Nadine, bringing pathos and laughter to the potentially annoying teen and eliciting sympathy despite her sometimes terrible decisions. Woody Harrelson is great as an acerbic but supportive teacher. Kyra Sedgwick struggles to find balance in the unsympathetic character of Nadine’s unstable mother. This small-budget film by a first-time director has a killer soundtrack and a satisfying story arc that delivers an emotional punch.

Abide With Me, by Elizabeth Strout

This profoundly sad tale wallows in its own poetic religiosity, despite making strong points about the hypocrisy of many people who call themselves Christians. Strout once again evokes small town New England, this time in the repressed and 1950s, where double standards, small minds and shrivelled hearts rule. Compassion, kindness and empathy are hard to find in this community, juxtaposed against the saintly Minister who thinks of everyone else first but is almost oblivious to his small daughter’s suffering. It is difficult to understand why the one kindly character, Carol, took so long to step in and offer help to the damaged five-year-old Katherine; the only explanation is plot convenience. While Tyler having a mini-breakdown and coming to himself after a long period of grief is believable, the effect of that breakdown on his congregation is not. Their miraculous transformation into supportive and loving humans fails to redeem their earlier behaviour – the two extremes are hard to swallow.

The Husband’s Secret, by Liane Moriarty

A crime kept secret is accidentally uncovered many years later by the wife of the perpetrator. Should she preserve the horrifying truth to protect her family, or expose it to see justice done? And how does she now relate to this stranger who is her husband. It’s all set in and around the community of a small Catholic primary school in the cosy Sydney suburbs, but religion and morality seem to play no part in anyone’s decisions. There is no Catholic guilt, no confession or penance – just one element that undermines the credibility of this deeply unpleasant story. A strong element of victim blaming taints the narrative. If the girl had made the right choice the boy wouldn’t have snapped and killed her in a moment of madness. The violent reaction to rejection was a one-off apparently and he was a model citizen, husband and father for the next twenty-odd years, so there’s that. Keeping the secret leads to serious injury to one of his children and he knows that’s his fault, so somehow justice has been served. A short epilogue explores sliding doors and what ifs with a conclusion that we just never know what will happen or why, so there’s no point stressing about it, leaving a nasty taste.

The Wanderer, by Meg Howrey

Space travel has been outsourced to the private sector and Prime Space has carefully selected a team of three astronauts for a real time simulation of the first manned mission to Mars. American Helen Kane, Russian Sergei Kuznetsov and Japanese Yoshihiro Tanaka have trained to the nth degree, but the simulation is an extreme test of their training, teamwork, skills and fortitude. If they pass the test, as judged by a team of Prime observers, they get to do it all over again on the real mission to Mars. The story is told from alternating points of view of a large cast – the three astronauts, psychologist observer Luke and three family members – Helen’s adult daughter Mireille, Sergei’s adolescent son Dmitri and Yoshi’s wife Madoka. All have their individual journeys of exploration, which are beautifully contrasted with the tale of pioneering space exploration. The science underpinning the story is convincing without being overwhelming and the intricate examinations of characters, relationships and motivations are fascinating. Astronauts are indeed extraordinary humans and The Wanderer celebrates them without deifying them or ignoring their flaws. Their story is challenging, engaging and deeply satisfying.

Midnight Special (2016), directed by Jeff Nicholls

A small boy, wearing protective goggles and ear muffs, is on the run with two men. Pursuing them are agents of the religious cult he grew up in and increasing numbers of government agencies. The cult leader’s sermons contain secret intelligence and the FBI, NSA etcetera want to know how. The boy, Alton, is special and everyone wants a piece of him, except for a few people trying to protect him and get him to where he needs to be. This bizarre road trip winds up in a very unexpected place and while it’s kind of entertaining getting there, the film gives no clue as to the point of it all. Michael Shannon, Joel Edgerton, Kirsten Dunst and Adam Driver give good performances and the child who plays Alton, Jaedon Lieberher, is convincing despite the general wackiness he is working in. Love, friendship and faith seem to be the driving forces of the film, but just where they are driving it to remains a mystery.