'The Grapes of Wrath' by John Steinbeck (Chapters 1 - 15)

First published in 1939, Steinbeck’s Pulitzer Prize-winning epic of the Great Depression chronicles the Dust Bowl migration of the 1930s and tells the story of one Oklahoma farm family, the Joads—driven from their homestead and forced to travel west to the promised land of California.

MY THOUGHTS:

Long ago, I had to study this book for Year 12 English, and decided it was depressing, emotionally scarring and the absolute pits. But several reader friends have loved it. It won Steinbeck the Pulitzer prize in 1940 and struck such a nerve in America, laws for down-and-out laborers ended up being changed. It was also the bestselling fiction title in America in 1939. These are all excellent reasons to put aside my teenage prejudice and re-read it. 

Here is some background. During the great Depression when central USA was an unproductive dust bowl, thousands of tenant farmers were forced off their land by landowners and urged to head further west for work instead. It turned out to be a callous way of passing the buck, since conditions in California were equally deplorable and desperate folk had nowhere to turn. Steinbeck interviewed some of these laborers for a series of articles, and their plight incensed him enough to write this classic novel on their behalf. His was the Voice for those who had no voice, and what an eloquently pissed-off voice it was! 

Tom Joad is a 30-year-old jailbird who has just been released on parole. On his way home he meets his old preacher, Jim Casy, who has quit preaching because of habits he couldn't control. (Such as having sex with his female followers. Fair call, Casy.) The two men find Tom's old family home derelict and deserted, and track down the Joad family in the nick of time. They've been forced to join the mass exodus moving west to California, which they have every reason to believe flows with orange juice, wine and jobs for all seekers. So Tom and Casy decide to hop aboard the family truck, although technically the conditions of Tom's parole restrict him from travelling out of his own state. 

This first section deals with the desolate dust bowl of Oklahoma, full of its own austere beauty, and takes the Joads on the first leg of their trip west. They are a mixed bag we grow to care for. Steinbeck's trademark style is a microscopic way of zooming in on the minutiae of people's facial features and clothing. It seems to work really well for him, shining a spotlight on their characters. He had a knack of intuitively knowing which apparently inconsequential details to mention. That approach doesn't work for every author. 

So we have Grampa and Granma, a feisty duo who are beginning to lose the plot a bit; and their two sons, whiskered Pa and anxious Uncle John, who turned hypochondriac after his wife's tragic appendicitis death which he'd brushed off as a stomachache. 

The younger generation begins with Noah the plodding firstborn, who still gives the impression of being misshapen after a panicked delivery by Pa. Next is straight-talking Tom himself, then newly pregnant Rose of Sharon (called Rosasharn) whose 19-year-old hubby Connie is also along for the ride. This young man gives the impression of being a bit dreamy and not good for much hands-on stuff other than fathering babies. Fourth Joad kid is 16-year-old Al with his handsome face, raging hormones and mechanical know-how of which he's very proud. Al regards his brother Tom with pride, rather than shame, for having killed a guy. Finally there are the two youngest, scrappy Ruthie and secretly sensitive Winfield, who are 12 and 10.

But caring for all is Ma, the family thermometer and cornerstone. We are told her husband and kids only admit to hurt and fear if she acknowledges them first. 'And since when a joyful thing happened, they looked to her to see whether joy was on her, it was her habit to build laughter out of inadequate material.' She's regarded as one of the great mothers of literary fiction.

Great insights from characters flow thick and fast, especially from Casy the ex-preacher, who loves to quietly take himself aside to simply sit and think things through. His insight can be simple. I can't say no grace like I use ta say. I'm glad o' the holiness of breakfast. I'm glad there's love here. That's all.' 

But my favourite so far is this exchange between Ma and young Al, while she sits beside him as he drives. I'm convinced some of the best conversations happen from the cockpit of a vehicle.

Al: Ain't you thinkin' what's it gonna be like when we get there? Ain't you scared it won't be nice like we thought?

Ma: No! No, I ain't. You can't do that. I can't do that. It's too much - livin' too many lives. Up ahead they's a thousan' lives we might live, but when it comes it'll o'ny be one. If I go ahead on all of 'em, it's too much. You got to live ahead 'cause you're so young, but it's just the road goin' by for me. An' it's just how soon they gonna want to eat some more pork bones.   

I've got to say, I'm enjoying it thus far. I'm looking forward to wrapping up with the next section, although not so much the rude awakening which surely awaits the hopeful and resourceful Joad family. Stick around for Part 2, Chapters 16 - 30. 

Drawbacks and Benefits of Bookstagram

Bookstagram is simply the corner of Instagram where bookworms run rife, sharing reviews, photos and other bookish content. I joined back on New Year's Day, 2017, having been told that's where all the action is. After six years and almost 800 posts on that platform, I'll put in my honest two cents worth on whether it's all it's cracked up to be in my experience. I'll begin with the many drawbacks and finish off with the benefits that keep me hanging in there.    

 DRAWBACKS

* You're a minnow in the ocean. The sheer number of Bookstagram accounts is overwhelming and the platform has its share of polished, impressive creative 'Influencers' the same as any other. Your voice is quickly smothered in the tidal wave of bookish content. I'm sure many new bookstagrammers wonder where all these trillions of like minds were back in the day when we found ourselves to be lonely book nerds at school and parties.  

* Bookstagram is a poor platform for promoting lesser-known books. These tend to slide under the radar and receive a smattering of likes and very few comments, if any. I'm not sure whether this is because people simply scroll past books they don't recognise or because the instagram algorithms favour bestsellers which the majority are raving about anyway. It sometimes seems we have a choice between either highlighting unfamiliar books and being ignored, or talking about the same old stuff for a bit of engagement. 

* Joining Bookstagram will not attract readers to your blog. That's not how bookstagrammers roll. The reason for scrolling instagram is to maximise exposure to as many pretty book pictures and quick brain snacks as possible in the given block of time we've set aside. It's not for getting sidetracked by visiting fellow bookstagrammers' blogs. In other words, when we're seeking fast food, we're rarely tempted by the prospect of a more substantial, sit-down meal. I can attest to that. Often when several people have liked and commented on my instagram posts, blog page views remain static. There are occasional rare souls who make a decision to return and read the post later. Those are the lifeblood of blogs.

* Not only your own number of followers but everyone else's is always in your face. Since the platform itself is built to place a great significance on numbers, it takes a strong mind to ignore all of that. I know several of us claim we do ignore it, but do we really, when that figure is forever in our face like a big red nose? You may ask, 'Hey, how come this person has been on for a shorter time than me, but already has triple the number of followers?' If this type of question plays on your mind, it might not be worth being on the platform, for it has the tendency to become toxic. And pretending we aren't bothered if we really are is disingenuous and exhausting.

* Your numbers are not necessarily even accurate. That rising numeral that gives us the warm fuzzies may be distorted by bots, randoms with their own reasons for following all and sundry, and former legitimate bookstagrammers who have abandoned their accounts and left them hanging in cyberspace. A bookstagrammer I know in real life remarked how although she apparently has 3000+ followers, it's always the same twenty or thirty people who engage her with comments. I can say something similar, although my total number is less than hers.

It's sort of ridiculous to be proud of a delusion. 

* Opportunities for distractions and tangents are rife. Some bookstagrammers set up their stories with all sorts of fancy questionnaires, graphs and gimmicks, because that's what we believe will attract new followers. And perhaps it does. The more eager engagers out there may know better than me. Others may set up reels of people turning the pages of a book or pulling spines off library shelves. I don't totally get the appeal of reels when it comes to Bookstagram. Unless the illustrations are mind-blowing, why watch other people turning pages rather than turning our own? Some bookstagrammers try to win allegiance by holding competitions. I'd like a dollar for every time I've read the instructions, 'Follow me, tag at least three friends to follow me, don't follow and then unfollow.' Seriously, I'd rather people unfollow me than remain grudging followers. My bookstagram account is not a mouse trap, nor is it the Hotel California! If you're not stimulated by my content, then cheerio. But I never hold competitions anyway. My point is that all this hoo-hah and hoop jumping is time consuming. It detracts from the time we have to read books, which is, after all, the ultimate reason for joining Bookstagram.

* Grief over losing good friends can be sudden and real. On several occasions, great accounts I've followed have simply pulled the plug and disappeared. Or else they've lost their momentum and left their feed sitting there, unrenewed for year after year. And often we never hear a word of explanation. People have a right to leave instagram, but it's a reminder for those of us left behind that bookstagram friends are not quite the same calibre as IRL friends, however much we may value them. Other times, good friends may stop liking and commenting on our posts simply because they are no longer appearing in their feed. Algorithms change, and we can be the victims. Other than visiting and commenting on theirs to remind them that we're still here, there's nothing much we can do. And all the second guessing can do our heads in.

* Sometimes we may feel obligated to join in when we're tagged, either on a story or a general post. Conversely, we may feel miffed if we're not technically tagged, and wonder whether we ought to just jump in anyway. (The answer is heck yeah!) Both scenarios have the potential to cause us a bit of anxiety we would not otherwise have experienced. 

* FOMO is real. You're bound to come across occasional raving booksta posts about how a couple of friends of yours got together behind the scenes to 'buddy read' one of your favourite books, and you weren't ever told. Do you relish the opportunity to revert back to your most insecure, miserable High School feelings, even when you're middle aged? Bookstagram has the potential to bring back the saddest, most forgettable memories of our adolescence. But only if we let it. In many cases, bookstagrammers make an effort not to be cliquey by asking people to join their read-alongs. The more the better. 

BENEFITS

* You're a minnow in the ocean. This is the flip side of the first drawback. Something liberating happens when we realise we needn't take ourselves too seriously. We're doing nothing that hasn't been extremely well done by thousands and thousands of others. This frees us to take risks and be real in our thoughts and discussions, because nobody is really watching us. 

* We learn about many great books we've never heard about before. I've been immersing myself in the world of books since I was very small, and thought I'd come across most old treasures that might tick my boxes. Was I ever wrong! I have many bookstagram friends to thank for introducing me on different occasions to delightful novels I never knew existed. Thanks heavens for those brave bookstagrammers who ignore the second point on my list of drawbacks, and rave on about lesser known books anyway. And I've been able to pass it forward to others. The same goes for challenges. I'd never have known about the annual readers' challenge on the Agatha Christie website if I hadn't seen several other bookstagrammers mention it. Or the weekly Jane Austen and Lucy Maud Montgomery challenges I jump into when the mood strikes me.  

* It's a screen for new releases. There is so much media hype surrounding hot-off-the-press books, I enjoy settling back to see what trusted friends have to say about their first impressions. Depending on the overall effect, I might either rush to get hold of a copy of my own, or decide to forget it, at least for now. There are too many books in the world to read without getting swept along in the crowd, and finding we're not impressed. I don't know for sure, but I imagine I've been warned to steer clear of several rabbit holes.

* We have a record for our own benefit, and quite an attractive one. I avoided bookstagram for a long time, thinking I could never live up to the visually superior standards that had been set by others. However, making an effort to frame a book with a lovely background has helped to open my eyes to beauty of the world around me, whether it's the great outdoors or props in my own home. It needn't even be about the photos of all. I've come across several great bookstagrammers who use the same white or paisley backgrounds all the time.

* We can indulge our love of specific books. Whether it's Wuthering Heights, Middlemarch, Harry Potter or the Narnia Chronicles, just explore the hashtags to get hours of fun reading what tons of other fans think of the book. This could even form your silent reading on any lazy evening when you want to cheer yourself up. You might get a deluge of criticism too, but that's all part of the fun, and it's not such a bad exercise to see what the critics think. (We can do the same thing by scrolling reviews on Goodreads and Amazon of course, but without the benefit of the pretty pictures.)  

* There is far more interaction than I get from doing my blog alone. I always condense my thoughts for bookstagram from reviews I've typed for my blog. And yet the discussion it generates is always far greater than blog comments. I've honestly come to a point where I don't mind few comments, but I relish that boost of dopamine. I'm not going to play coy and pretend I can take friendly engagement or leave it. Let's be honest, it's disheartening to feel we're always typing into a vacuum. Passionate chatter is lifeblood to a bookworm. Bookstagram, in my experience, is where the bulk of this fun comes from. And it's time to ditch comparisons. Even if I'm not getting as much engagement as other bookstagrammers who spring to mind, at least I'm getting far more than I ever would from this blog alone. 

So I'm sticking to my little corner of instagram, at least for now. We'll be alright as long as we don't get bogged down in unanswerable questions such as, 'How come I got so much engagement for my post about Pride and Prejudice and hardly any for Persuasion, when I put in so much time and effort?' Perhaps the answer is that Bookstagram, being a little microcosm of life, mirrors the unpredictability of life. 

Are you on there? Let me know and I'll follow you? And please follow me, @vincereview, if you care to. 

         

'Rules of Civility' by Amor Towles

This sophisticated and entertaining first novel presents the story of a young woman whose life is on the brink of transformation. On the last night of 1937, twenty-five-year-old Katey Kontent is in a second-rate Greenwich Village jazz bar when Tinker Grey, a handsome banker, happens to sit down at the neighboring table. This chance encounter and its startling consequences propel Katey on a year-long journey into the upper echelons of New York society—where she will have little to rely upon other than a bracing wit and her own brand of cool nerve. With its sparkling depiction of New York’s social strata, its intricate imagery and themes, and its immensely appealing characters, Rules of Civility won the hearts of readers and critics alike.

MY THOUGHTS:

This was almost a DNF because for several pages it appeared nothing was going to happen other than social climbers drinking cocktails and attending musical events. But somewhere around the halfway point the story started to get interesting. 

Katey Kontent is the working class daughter of a deceased Russian migrant. She and her room mate, Eve Ross, make a new friend on New Year's Eve, 1937. It's Theodore, aka Tinker Grey, who they assume from his prosperous appearance is a WASP boy (white Anglo Saxon Protestant). Pushy Eve instantly dibs Tinker for herself, attracted by his vibes of old family power and influence. Although Tinker himself seems to prefer Katey, Eve's talons are long and circumstances seem to flow her way. Yet down the track, when favour begins to shine on Katey, she has a gob-smacking revelation about Tinker that may change everything.

Okay, enough about the plot. The most awesome factors of this story are its era (covering the entirety of 1938) and its setting (New York City, the Big Apple itself). Amor Towles' writing is so colourful and evocative, it wouldn't surprise me to discover he'd been a time traveller! For a novel written in the 21st century, it's convincingly retro and full of 80-year-old glamour. 

The main character herself is very cool. Katey is a bookworm who devours fiction, which stands her in good stead to read a room, assess people's character and wriggle smoothly into higher social echelons than her own. My favourite passages contain her occasional bookish thoughts lapsing into personal philosophy. For example, her dad knew that whatever life might throw at him, he'd make it through as long as he could appreciate something as simple and readily available as his morning cup of coffee. And it dawns on Katey that for her, his coffee translates to the works of Charles Dickens.

'Admittedly there's something a little annoying about all those plucky underprivileged kids and the aptly named agents of villainy. But I've come to realize that however blue my circumstances, if after finishing a chapter of a Dickens novel I feel a miss-my-stop-on-the-train sort of compulsion to read on, then everything is probably going to be just fine.'  

Then down the track, she figures out why binge-reading Agatha Christie mysteries is more than just a lazy indulgence.

'You can make what claims you will about the psychological nuance of Proust or the narrative scope of Tolstoy, but you can't argue that Mrs Christie fails to please. Her books are tremendously satisfying. Yes, they've formulaic. But she doles out her little surprises at the carefully calibrated pace of a nanny dispensing sweets to the children in her care.... Poirot and Marple are not really central characters in the traditional sense. They are simply the agencies of intricate moral equilibrium that was established by the Primary Mover at the dawn of time.'  

It's hard, at first, to muster much love for any character other than Katey herself; especially not that callous and selfish Eve or pliable and duplicitous Tinker (although admittedly his may be the best character arc). The sweet and privileged Wallace Wolcott has some great moments, as does Tinker's obnoxiously principled brother, Hank. 

Yet near the finish it dawns on me the cast are living out a universal drama. We are prodded to question whether it's truly corrupt for struggling have-nots to make questionable decisions simply to place them on a level playing field with those spotless beings favoured by fortune. The distinction between the families of 'old wealth' and self-made folk who have had to be unscrupulously inventive to place themselves in the same social circles is fascinating. 

Is the climbing and striving worth it though? We are left to figure that out for ourselves, and each reader's answer may be different. Tinker's apparently simple line, when he decides to give up the chase, may be one of my most profound picks. Inspired by Katey to read Thoreau's Walden, he says, 'All this wanting and not wanting. It's worn me out and for once I'm going to try the present on for size.' Since the 21st century has become no easier an era in which to live, I do understand where he's coming from.

Oh, and the way in which young George Washington's almost 300 year-old 'rules of civility' influence the course of Tinker's life has great bearing on the title, and we get the benefit of all 110 in a glossary at the back. 

It's rare for a book I almost dropped to end up with four stars, but I love it when it happens. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟   

'Pollyanna Grows Up' by Eleanor H. Porter

   

The sequel to Pollyanna finds the effervescent orphan on the verge of womanhood.

Her crippled legs cured, Pollyanna takes her glad heart to cheer new friends in Boston before travelling to Europe with Aunt Polly and Dr Chilton. But growing up brings sorrows as well as joys, and when she returns after six years, with Dr Chilton dead and Aunt Polly fallen on hard times, even Pollyanna has trouble maintaining her usual cheerful outlook.

MY THOUGHTS:

This is an entertaining sequel to 'Pollyanna', which starts soon after the conclusion. She is sent to stay with Mrs Ruth Carew, a lady suffering deep depression because over a decade earlier, her beloved baby nephew was kidnapped from the family by his eccentric father. Even though Ruth's brother-in-law has probably passed away, little Jamie's whereabouts remains unknown. These days he'd be on the missing person files. Ruth can't bear the uncertainty of not knowing whether he's suffering, or even dead. It casts a horrible shadow over every day of her life.

There in Boston, Pollyanna continues her habit of accidentally helping people transform their lives, including Jamie, a smart, bookish boy in a wheelchair, who might even be Mrs Carew's lost nephew, since he's unsure of his parentage and has the right name. Although Jamie plays his own version of Pollyanna's 'Game', he's not half as good at it as she is. It's possibly because he seems to have the typecast despondent, creative temperament of a literary author; the very thing he aspires to be. Jamie is a yearning, idealistic character we can't help liking. By the time Pollyanna leaves Boston, shes's helped bring several disparate, hurting people together, just by being herself and stepping out where more cautious and unsociable people would fear to tread. 

In this first half, Pollyanna discovers that living in a big city is way different from living in a small town, and people are far more aloof than she'd like. And at last she learns that approaching strangers isn't always commendable. 

The second half shoots forward six years. Pollyanna is twenty years old, returning to Beldingsville with her aunt after living abroad. Aunt Polly is now a widow who has fallen on hard times. To say she's reverted back to her bitter, cantankerous old self is an understatement. She's such a grinch, she even wants to cancel Christmas. Polly's brief taste of happiness seems to have made her crabbier than ever. Sadly, she only gets to spend a few years of marital bliss with her beloved Dr Thomas Chilton before he passes away, which understandably upsets many readers who enjoyed their whirlwind, second chance courtship. All we're told is that he 'died suddenly' and the text leaves us no idea why. I think it's safe to assume that Dr Chilton dies of a fatal case of plot device.

The stage is set for Pollyanna to introduce old and new friends in their time of need. She and her aunt must earn money fast while the Carew family are seeking a boarding house in country Vermont. Offering to host them herself seems a logical thing to do, although it unleashes all sorts of lovers' tangles and mix-ups. There are so many romantic assumptions that are way off track, if not outright bizarre, while it's probably predictable to every reader how the three key couples will end up being paired off.

The strained dynamics between Jamie and Jimmy are quite fascinating here. Both young men battle with jealousy of the other. I think Jimmy gets over his, especially when he discovers how unfounded it is regarding one crucial point. But for Jamie, I have the impression the green eyed monster is still raging, though concealed. Jimmy has so much he covets, including an able body and a budding career in engineering. And one more thing comes to light which would surely tip Jamie over the edge, if only he knew. I'm hooked on finding out how (if) that thread will develop in later books.  

Pollyanna turns out to be a very dutiful girl, who will defer to her elders when it comes to choosing a spouse. It's a dated outlook (thankfully), which I doubt modern young readers would go for or understand. She ends up with the man her heart chooses, but only after clearing it with Aunt Polly, then Uncle John first! Pollyanna ends up with the perfect guy for her, and in her place, I would have been tempted to rub it in with Aunt Polly. But being a wholesome, early twentieth century plot, she manages to appease her aunt and get her man at the same time. 

There are a few loose ends, which tighter, more modern editing might have addressed. When the identity of Ruth's nephew is finally revealed, nobody seems to think of telling her sister, Della the nurse, who surely deserves to know the truth as much as Ruth. It bothers me that she wasn't on the very small list of people who would learn the secret, even though she's a side character.

Overall, it's the sort of book which can get away with being a tad predictable because it's oh such fun. And next up will be Pollyanna of the Orange Blossoms. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟

'Giant's Bread' by Mary Westmacott

Vernon Deyre is a sensitive and brilliant musician, even a genius, tormented and driven by forces even he didn't understand. His sheltered childhood in the home he loves has not prepared Vernon for the harsh reality of his adult years, and in order to write the great masterpiece of his life, he has to make a crucial decision with no time left to count the cost. But there is a high price to be paid for his talent, especially by his family and the two women in his lifee - the one he loves and the one who loves him.

Young Nell Vereker had always loved Vernon, loved him with a consuming passion that was alien to the proper social world in which she lived. But when Vernon sought solace in the arms of Jane Harding, a stranger and enigmatically beautiful older woman, Nell felt she could endure no greater pain. But Fate had only begun to work its dark mischief on this curious romantic triangle -- for before their destinies were sealed, one would live, one would die, and one would return from the grave to be damned…

MY THOUGHTS: 

This is my first Mary Westmacott novel, Agatha Christie's pseudonym when she wanted to depart from crime to try her hand at a more reflective, psychological genre. My mum had this one on her shelf among all her Agatha Christie mysteries, so I thought, 'Why not give it a go?' 

It's the story of Vernon Deyre, (no clue about the pronunciation of his surname. I kept imagining something like Dyer or Dayer), an experimental young composer with some rudimentary genius. The 'giant's bread' alluded to in the title is his formative experiences, beginning in early childhood, to shape him into the man he becomes. 

Vernon begins life as a deep and sensitive child; the pawn his smothering mother uses against his philandering father. He detests music passionately without understanding why, dreading the prospect of a concert like a trip to the dentist. The sound of music seriously sickens him and he's terrified of grand pianos, which he likens to beasts with fierce teeth.

 Vernon's paternal aunt pronounces him to be a Deyre all through, which is tough luck on him since they're 'never happy or successful.' She's essentially taking on the wicked fairy role and cursing the boy at the outset of his life. 

When he's a young man, Vernon visits an avant-garde concert where it dawns on him that his childhood repugnance was simply because everyone was doing music all wrong! He'd love the opportunity to create some himself.  

The crux of the story is a love triangle which offers some interesting psychological insights. Vernon loves Nell, who lusts for him but knows he won't be able to afford the lavish lifestyle she craves, at least not in the short term, because weird, edgy composers aren't the toast of the town. Jane, a level-headed singer who is older than the others, loves Vernon despite herself. I was pretty satisfied with how it all works out until the final three or four pages. Oh gosh, then Christie/Westmacott goes too far and turns the whole thing into an Ancient Greek Tragedy that makes me facepalm. What a farcical finish

But I recommend it anyway. Other than the abysmal ending, it's quite a page turner with some riveting twists and turns. There are other loved ones in Vernon's life too. His best buddy Sebastian is a wealthy Jewish boy who longs to take a chance on beautiful things, nurturing them to success with his financial backing. Sebastian is in love with Vernon's cousin Josephine, aka Joe, who won't consider him as a potential spouse because she's a passionate champion for the weak and oppressed, and he doesn't tick the box. 

Food for thought comes thick and fast. For example, Jane discusses with Vernon the three qualifications a woman really needs to face a life of poverty. 1) A sense of humour 2) A tough hide, and 3) The valuable quality of being sufficient unto oneself. 'You'd be alright stuck down anywhere, Buckingham Palace or the Sahara,' she tells him, 'because you've got your mental preoccupation - music. But Nell is dependent on extraneous circumstances.' Hmm, are some people really unfit to be poor?  

Sebastian's motto is always, 'I believe in beauty, in creation, in things like Vernon's music. I can't see any real defense for them economically, and yet I'm perfectly sure they matter more than anything else in the world.' 

Overall, I quite like Vernon, who in spite of being so highly strung and swept by any breeze, never really does anything we can fault him for. (Whoa, perhaps that makes him the perfect Greek tragic hero after all!) It was fun and fast, and I'm inclined to just ignore the last few pages. Based on Giant's Bread, I'm willing to read some other Westmacott titles down the track. 

🌟🌟🌟½