I’m fascinated by houses and the memories that haunt them. I grew up on a private estate in rural England where my father worked. When I was little I knew a witch. She rode a bicycle, not a broomstick: she cured my warts. The trees I played under were planted when the big house belonged to the 17th-century statesman and historian, Lord Clarendon. I knew storytellers who performed in the local pubs – part of an oral tradition that goes back millennia. I moved to London, but I kept thinking about those rural enclaves where memories are very long. I set my novel in that beautiful, ghost-ridden, peculiar world.
It is the 1660s and a wall is being built around a great house. Wychwood is an enclosed world, its gardens adorned with fountains and its park bisected by avenues, a world where everyone has something to hide after decades of civil war. Three centuries later, as another wall goes up overnight, dividing Berlin, there is a house party at Wychwood. It is 1961: the times they are a-changing.
From the award-winning author of historical works - including The Pike: Gabriele d’Annunzio, which won the Costa Biography Award, the Duff Cooper Prize, and the Samuel Johnson Prize - comes an ambitious, beautiful, and timely novel. Game-keepers and witches, gardeners and property-owners, 17th-century dissidents and 20th-century refuge-seekers people this compelling story about the passage of time, about migration, and about how those who wall others out risk finding themselves walled in.
Lampedusa could make a dish of macaroni cheese voluptuous and a basket full of peaches revolutionary. This author had a wonderful appreciation of the pleasures of the senses, and a great gift for making sensuality politically significant.
In 1860 the palace of Donnafugata, the summer retreat of a fictional family of Sicilian aristocrats, is remote from the cities where Garibaldi and his followers are precipitating a nationalist revolution, but the chill of impending change is in the air, along with an anticipatory nostalgia for the decadent beauty that is passing away.
Politically radical Prince Tancredi and his bourgeois sweetheart devote long, languid summer afternoons to exploring the palace’s empty wing. Seldom can descriptions of crumbling plaster, cobwebbed chandeliers, and dusty floorboards have been so charged with erotic glamour, ideological ambiguity, and a melancholy acknowledgment that all things must pass.
The Leopard is a modern classic which tells the spellbinding story of a decadent, dying Sicilian aristocracy threatened by the approaching forces of democracy and revolution.
'There is a great feeling of opulence, decay, love and death about it' Rick Stein
In the spring of 1860, Fabrizio, the charismatic Prince of Salina, still rules over thousands of acres and hundreds of people, including his own numerous family, in mingled splendour and squalor. Then comes Garibaldi's landing in Sicily and the Prince must decide whether to resist the forces of change or come to terms with them.
Clumsy peasant schoolboy, Meaulnes, and his friend – the narrator of this haunting story – get lost, and happen upon a great house, deep in the woods, where a phantasmagorical fancy dress party is underway. Everything at ‘the lost domain’ is topsy-turvy. Children are in charge. The passage of time is suspended. Social inequality has been erased. The time the boys spend there is dream-like, disconcerting, life-spoiling because nothing can ever be so strange and marvelous again.
Later, after much searching, Meaulnes make his way back, but the domain is like youth itself. If you return, it will be to find everything drabber than you remembered, and the people you adored merely human.
This book is even greater than its reputation. Generally thought of as one of the last works of romanticism, a celebration of illusion, it is actually clear-eyed, tough-minded, bracingly truthful about the inevitably of disillusion. Alain-Fournier was killed in action in the first weeks of World War I at the age of twenty-seven. No going back for him.
Le Grand Meaulnes est le seul roman de l'auteur français Alain-Fournier qui a été tué dans le premier mois de la Première Guerre mondiale. Il est un peu biographique - en particulier le nom de l'héroïne Yvonne, avec qui il a eu un engouement condamné à Paris. François Seurel, 15 ans, raconte l'histoire de son amitié avec Augustin Meaulnes, dix-sept ans, alors que Meaulnes cherche son amour perdu. Impulsif, imprudent et héroïque, Meaulnes incarne l'idéal romantique, la recherche de l'inaccessible, et le monde mystérieux entre l'enfance et l'âge adulte.
Set in Czechoslovakia in the 1930s, this story of a newly-married couple overseeing the construction of their dream home is as clean-cut, luminous and full of hints of fragility as the building itself – a modernist cube of glass. The husband is rich, the wife excited by her new role as patron. Their architect - a sharply observed portrayal of a tetchy artist who will insist on sticking to his vision regardless of his clients’ doubts – wants to make them a masterpiece, and he does. But the husband is Jewish. We are in the 1930s. Glass walls are not going to keep them safe.
In lucid, elegant prose Mawer conjures up central European culture in those edgy, febrile years when artistic and intellectual energy were so vital, and politics were so deadly.
The inspiration for the major motion picture The Affair, now available on demand.
Cool. Balanced. Modern. The precisions of science, the wild variance of lust, the catharsis of confession and the fear of failure - these are things that happen in the Glass Room.
High on a Czechoslovak hill, the Landauer House shines as a wonder of steel and glass and onyx built specially for newlyweds Viktor and Liesel Landauer, a Jew married to a gentile. But the radiant honesty of 1930 that the house, with its unique Glass Room, seems to engender quickly tarnishes…
Not just one house, this time, but houses - a whole village in fact. Adam Thorpe’s dazzlingly inventive novel is the story of a rural community over three and half centuries, narrated by a chorus of different voices. Human dramas proliferate: love affairs, murders, executions, violent uprisings. But as people come and go, things stay put, outlasting them. An adulterous eighteenth-century lady is confined to her shuttered bed-chamber, forbidden to go down the creaky old stairs. Fifty years later a garrulous carpenter, reminiscing in the pub, describes the cutting of the wooden scroll that finished the banister of the new staircase he and his mates have built in the Hall, once that lady’s home. Two generations later a consumptive young lawyer, taking down the testimony of dozens of Luddite machine-breakers, visits the Hall, notices the stairs, judges them dark and old-fashioned. Time passes again and a 20th-century television cameraman leans against a gate, made by that same carpenter. We even know from which tree it was cut.
Thorpe’s novel is formally adventurous but thematically stay-at-home, a boldly new-fangled way of honouring permanent, ancient things – wood, weather, the material world on which humans depend.
Immerse yourself in the stories of Ulverton, as heard on BBC Radio 4 Book at Bedtime
'Sometimes you forget that it is a novel, and believe for a moment that you are really hearing the voice of the dead' Hilary Mantel
At the heart of this novel lies the fictional village of Ulverton. It is the fixed point in a book that spans three hundred years. Different voices tell the story of Ulverton: one of Cromwell's soldiers staggers home to find his wife remarried and promptly disappears, an eighteenth century farmer carries on an affair with a maid under his…
One of the best-loved of all novels is – among many other things – a book about houses.
When Jane’s cruel aunt wants to punish the child she locks her in a room. There’s nothing particularly dreadful in there – it’s the room itself that is terrifying. When Jane is sent to Lowood School it’s the building’s situation, in a pestilential marshy valley, that is killing the girls. When she takes a job as governess to Mr. Rochester’s ward, the peculiar layout of Thornfield Hall should have immediately alerted her to the psychodrama of which she is becoming part. A pleasantly normal ‘gentleman’s residence’ downstairs, crowned with gothic battlements at the level where the imprisoned mad woman lurks, it is a house of secrets and hidden spaces. Whenever Mr. Rochester, wooing Jane out in the garden, looks up at its looming bulk, his face darkens.
Reader, she marries him, but the semi-happy ending is shadowed by the setting for the couple’s reunion. We are told that Ferndean, where they will be living ever after, is death to anyone who settles there. Charlotte Bronte’s novel is housed within appropriated gothic traditions – architectural ones among them – but is so emotionally forthright and intelligent it still feels new-minted.
Introduction and Notes by Dr Sally Minogue, Canterbury Christ Church University College.
Jane Eyre ranks as one of the greatest and most perennially popular works of English fiction. Although the poor but plucky heroine is outwardly of plain appearance, she possesses an indomitable spirit, a sharp wit and great courage.
She is forced to battle against the exigencies of a cruel guardian, a harsh employer and a rigid social order. All of which circumscribe her life and position when she becomes governess to the daughter of the mysterious, sardonic and attractive Mr Rochester.
Inspiring historical fiction based on the real life of Bertha Benz, whose husband built the first prototype automobile, which eventually evolved into the Mercedes-Benz marque.
"Unfortunately, only a girl again."
From a young age, Cäcilie Bertha Ringer is fascinated by her father's work as a master builder in Pforzheim, Germany. But those five words, which he wrote next to her name in the family Bible, haunt Bertha.
Years later, Bertha meets Carl Benz and falls in love—with him and his extraordinary dream of building a horseless carriage. Bertha has such faith in him that she invests her dowry in his plans, a dicey move since they alone believe in the machine. When Carl's partners threaten to withdraw their support, he's ready to cut ties. Bertha knows the decision would ruin everything. Ignoring the cynics, she takes matters into her own hands, secretly planning a scheme that will either hasten the family's passage to absolute derision or prove their genius. What Bertha doesn't know is that Carl is on the cusp of making a deal with their nemesis. She's not only risking her marriage and their life's work, but is also up against the patriarchy, Carl's own self-doubt, and the clock.
Like so many other women, Bertha lived largely in her husband's shadow, but her contributions are now celebrated in this inspiring story of perseverance, resilience, and love.
Inspiring historical fiction based on the real life of Bertha Benz, whose husband built the first prototype automobile, which eventually evolved into the Mercedes-Benz marque.
"Unfortunately, only a girl again."
From a young age, Cacilie Bertha Ringer is fascinated by her father's work as a master builder in Pforzheim, Germany. But those five words, which he wrote next to her name in the family Bible, haunt Bertha.
Years later, Bertha meets Carl Benz and falls in love-with him and his extraordinary dream of building a horseless carriage. Bertha has such faith in him that she invests her dowry in his…
