Troubled Blood, By Robert Galbraith

The latest Cormoran Strike novel by JK Rowling’s alter ego is more than 900 pages long. It’s not a difficult read, but it is so fucking long it’s hard to keep track of the multitude of characters and plot twists. There is an awful lot going on. Cormoran and Robin continue to navigate their tricky personal and professional relationship while managing their expanding business. Robin is trying to finalise her divorce and deal with her anxious family. Cormoran’s aunt in Cornwall is dying of cancer and his estranged father is trying to establish a relationship, much to Cormoran’s fury. His ex, Charlotte, is still sending provocative texts and trying to inveigle him. And that’s before we even get started on the convoluted murder mystery – the cold case of young doctor Margot Bamborough’s disappearance in 1975. Was she an undisclosed victim of a notorious serial killer? Did she run away from a cold and uncaring husband? Was her ex boyfriend involved? And what about the complicated relationships in her GP practice? Galbraith canvasses all this and more in minute detail, which is for the most part interesting but occasionally excruciating. Several storylines and one whole section (concerning a visit from Robin’s brother) could have been omitted without losing anything relevant to the main plot. A good editor would have done so to the book’s benefit and would also have corrected a few grammatical errors, but who would edit JK Rowling? She draws together most of the various threads pretty well in a satisfying conclusion, but it takes so long to get there it’s kind of anti-climactic.

The Left-Handed Booksellers of London, by Garth Nix

After turning 18 Susan Arkshaw moves to London to prepare for art school and to find the father she has never known. She is immediately plunged into a secret world of booksellers, who are guardians of the intersection between the old world and the new. Things are out of balance in the old world with a malevolent old power growing its influence while the Booksellers have been asleep at the wheel. But what has Susan’s absent Dad got to do with it and will charming but deadly Bookseller Merlin help or hinder her quest? Set in the 1980s, where Thatcher is the second female PM, this novel adds an alt history dimension to its fantasy premise. The alt is subtle, rather than a major a plot component, expressed mainly via women cropping up in positions of strength and authority. Susan is an endearingly grounded heroine and Nix skilfully blends the tropes of myth and magic with the day-to-day of 80s England, tossing in humour to keep it real. The Booksellers are an intriguing organisation and it will be interesting to see if this is the start of a new series.

Firestarter (2020), directed by Nel Minchin & Wayne Blair

The story of the Bangarra Dance Theatre is also the story of the three brothers intrinsic to its development – Stephen, David and Russell Page. Founded in Sydney in 1989, Bangarra has been a triumphant success story, culturally, artistically and socially, but at what cost? Stephen Page was appointed artistic director at the age of 24. He has led the way ever since in reconnecting to country and culture and demonstrating this through dance. Grainy home movies and amateur videos show the early days of the Page brothers, their start at NAISDA and the early years of Bangarra. Later interviews and footage demonstrate the amazing talent of the three brothers and the incredible sadness of Russell and David’s paths. The narrative matches the dance company’s history with high and low points of Australia’s modern history, including featuring at the Edinburgh Festival, a US tour, Bicentennial celebrations, the Sydney Olympics, Keating’s Redfern speech and the Howard government’s denialism. The doco is a little slow in parts and could possibly have been edited more tightly. Continuity and hope are demonstrated through Stephen’s tenacity and through his and Russell’s sons, as well as the new generation of Bangarra dancers.

It Sounded Better in My Head, by Nina Kenwood

Natalie is 18 and living in that tense interim period between receiving Year 12 results and getting Uni offers. At the start of a series of big life changes her parents announce their separation, throwing her a curveball. Excessively introverted and self-conscious, Natalie’s last couple of years at school have been made bearable by her friendship with Lucy and Zach. But she has become something of a third wheel since they coupled up. Navigating an unexpected romance is difficult when you have zero experience and your family and friends are not totally supportive. But Natalie’s humour sees her through extreme anxiety and her tendency to over analyse everything. Occasional flashbacks explain her loner status and underline the true pain many teens experience from literally feeling uncomfortable in their own skin. A deceptively simple tale of teenage angst, the tongue-in-cheek style disguises a note perfect depiction of vulnerability and growth.

A Deadly Education, by Naomi Novik

In a very different kind of boarding school story, the Scholomance is as far from kindly Hogwarts as it is possible to be. Constantly under attack from dark magical creatures, its students have the best incentive to learn and pass assignments – it is literally do or die. Galadriel ‘EL’ Higgins has been so well brought up by her hippy mother that she wouldn’t dream of using her considerable powers for evil. This is despite the fact that she has the potential to be the strongest dark sorcerer ever known and that it would make her life considerably easier and more secure. In her penultimate year at the Scholomance, El’s spiky personality makes it difficult to make friends or allies, which limits her chances of surviving to graduate. But incurable hero lifesaver Orion Lake changes the odds considerably when he realises El won’t use him or lie to him and he won’t leave her alone. El is often her own worst enemy, but her moral code shines through as she struggles to do the right thing regardless of her own best interests. There are a lot of characters to keep track of and a lot of exposition used to explain how the Scholomance works, which makes the story slow going in parts. But El and Orion are well realised and relatable against a backdrop of class and privilege in the magical world. There is a nice cliffhanger to whet the appetite for the sequel, which should be a bit zippier now that the scene has been set.

Summerland (2020), directed by Jessica Swale

During WWII in a small town on the south coast of England, academic Alice Lang is the town witch, taunted by children and ostracised by adults. Her reclusive and unpleasant demeanour doesn’t help her situation, but as we learn, she is lonely and miserable – mourning the parting from the love of her life years earlier. Her hardened heart softens when an evacuee child, Frank, is forced on her and she remembers how to love. A small and slow tale of dealing with grief and loss, the film offers some laughs and some beautiful moments. Gemma Arterton is wonderful as Alice and Penelope Wilton is well cast as older Alice. Lucas Bond does a great job of Frank.

The Survivors, by Jane Harper

A small coastal town in Tasmania hosts the action in Jane Harper’s latest murder mystery. Three young people died when a catastrophic storm hit Evelyn Bay more than a decade ago. Kieran Elliot moved to Sydney for Uni not long after and returning to his home town has always been bittersweet. Along with reunions with family and friends come memories, regrets, questions and long-held survivor guilt. Kieran’s father has dementia and this visit, with his partner and baby, is to help his parents pack up their house. The death of a young woman on the beach is shocking and painful for everyone, triggering a wave of suspicion and fear and dredging up old secrets, lies and resentments. Harper once again perfectly captures the light and shade of an insular Australian country town. Evelyn Bay’s population triples in the tourist season, bringing its own pressures, with insecure seasonal employment and inadequate infrastructure. Many satisfying layers reveal damaging family dynamics, convoluted dysfunctional relationships and an underlying culture of toxic masculinity that literally kills. This allows lots of fat and juicy red herrings as the novel rushes to a slightly anti-climactic ending that is tied up rather neatly for Kieran and his family.