satelliteheart, that's a great idea for reading Philippa Gregory; I've read them in pub order and find myself trying to knit together bits of half-remembered info from all kinds of periods.
I just wish I had the time/could justify rereading them!
I have a DNF: Miss Benson's Beetle. I've given it a go over the last couple of nights in bed but am officially dropping it. There's an interesting story in there, and some good characters (and of course it speaks interestingly to how much and how little has changed in terms of women's position regarding work/economic power etc); but I just can't get on with the writing. It's a bit... silly, is the word I keep thinking.
If I had more free reading time and fewer books on my list, I'd probably persevere and think it was 'OK' by the end, but I feel like I need to just be ruthless. A pity.
I did finish a few:
Florilegia by Annabel Dover A piece of art rather than a straightforward book/reading experience. She's an illustrator/printmaker and this is peppered with images both of her own making and some by other people that she's found and selected. It follows the life of various real figures, primarily Anna Atkins, who was an amateur botanist and widely considered to be the first woman ever to have taken a photograph. Excerpts from/glimpses of her life are interspersed with snatches of other people's, including the author's own. This is an impressionistic read, although there are connections, more or less obscure/fanciful, to be made between the stories/scenarios/images. A one-off.
The Past, Tessa Hadley A novel of manners, really, about a set of grown-up siblings and assorted children/friends gathering at their grandparents' old house for a long summer holiday. They've done this for years, but this year there is a sense of an ending as they're starting to think they may need to come to an agreement about selling the place.
It is quite restrained and observational. There is some quiet and sly humour, and psychological insight. It's beautifully written and I did feel satisfied at the end, although couldn't shake a slight feeling of 'what's it for?', probably in part because I read it after The Night Watchman, which is SO different in its vivid dialogue and situations, and lively in its humour and wit.
Making Babies, Anne Enright. Her memoir (well, an assembled collection of essays) of pregnancy, birth and motherhood. If you like her, you will like this – it's packed with her sardonic and sometimes breathtakingly honest wit and sensibility. Hilariously funny sometimes, and at others piercingly sad. Vintage Enright, in other words. It was exhilarating to come across someone writing so originally and perceptively in such an overcrowded subject arena.
Think I'll try either The Truth Must Dazzle Gradually, Helen Cullen, or Sea State, Tabitha Lasley, next.