therapy
Treasures in unexpected places
From the moment you approach the Gibside National Trust property near Gateshead there are treats in store.
Enter reception for your tickets … hello? A couple of shelves of second-hand books to browse while you wait in the queue! But the staff soon let you know there’s more in store …
Nearby a dedicated wooden building set aside for readers. Not just your average random collection of romances and thrillers with the odd gardening tome thrown in … oh no. A sofa and a big squooshy chair … shelves all round the room packed with used books … packed yes, but nothing random about them. All sorted carefully by genre and then by author – someone who clearly knows their stuff. Utopia!
No one hovering putting on the pressure to move along, or to pay up, either. Browse away, friend, to your heart’s content … and when you’re ready, just when you’ve run out of time, simply pop your money in the honesty box., and take home your stash of books with all your memories.
But there’s a wonderful world outside that cosy spot just waiting to fire your imagination too. Think Jane Austen heroines … approaching for the first time … the avenues of mature trees …
the orangery …
the chapel …
the magnificent Palladian edifice … no, that ‘s not the main house, just the stables …
ahhh, there it is, the mansion house itself … a ruin now certainly, but the mind easily replaces windows and roofs, fills those three storeys with luxury and elegance and good taste ….
And it’s all set in acres and acres of Georgian landscaping. Beautiful woodland walks …
An absolute joy with the sun filtering through the lush growth, clever design beckoning the walker down mysterious pathways, into tantalising copses. The history and secrets of the estate and the families who called it home, coupled with the assault on the senses of so much beauty, sent my imagination into overdrive.
And would you believe it, there’s even a tiny cottage nestling in the woods, now used for therapy!
The whole experience was a reader/writer’s dream. And just the tonic I needed after a stressful few weeks.
Just One Look
Both life and literature are throwing rather a lot of angst my way at this moment so I’m going to share something positive without baggage this week.
It’s possible to find solace in a beautifully crafted piece of fiction, even when the subject matter is not exactly sweetness and light. I can get lost in the work of a master-craftsman and emerge feeling soothed and ready to face the fray. Literature as therapy.
And for me, Harlan Coben is a past master at creating plots within plots that unravel one after the other, keeping the reader guessing until the very end. I defy anyone to guess the final twist in Just One Look.
US Attorney Scott Duncan’s speciality is prosecuting corrupt politicians in the Garden State of New Jersey. Eebie jeebie. How many are there?! Enough to keep a team of hotshot lawyers in work? So why, after resolutely refusing to talk to anyone since his arrest, has an assassin for hire, real name unknown, who has killed an estimated one hundred people, asked to see him specifically?
The prisoner leans forward: What I am about to tell you will change your entire life.
And that information? That he was the one who had killed Scott’s sister, Geri, aged just 21, fifteen years ago. That’s the prologue so I’m not spoiling the tale for you.
Thereafter the story line splits in several directions.
Grace and Jack Lawson are a happily married couple with two children whose sense of security is suddenly threatened when a photo from Jack’s past appears in a bundle of newly developed pictures. The young woman with Jack has a giant cross across her face. Then Jack is tailed … is felled and abducted … and is now missing. Given a complete lack of interest from the police, Grace sets about trying to find him, and discovers secrets and a past about which she knew nothing. We have to wait 200 pages to see what their connection is to the Scott Duncan of the prologue.
Eric Wu is a devilishly clever killer who will stop at nothing to stay free after a life of crime and prison. Via his multiple online presences he uses vulnerable people to further his own ends, and now he has Jack and Grace in his crosshairs.
Jimmy X – real name James Xavier Farmington – is a faded rock singer who’s looking for some kind of forgiveness from the parents of 18 children who died in a stampede at a concert – known as the Boston Massacre. Grace was herself seriously injured in the crush and still bears the scars, but she has next to no memory of the event. However, she does remember the singer visiting her in hospital. The Jimmy X Band broke up after the tragedy, but Jimmy himself has now reappeared in a minor role. What is his connection to Jack Lawson?
Coben has the knack of carving a potted biography of each character, and we know everyone is hiding something. I found myself trusting no one. But the ending still took the rug from under my feet.
There are two clever passages that I must share:
The kid working – Grace’s use of the term working being overly generous here – behind the counter had a white fuzz pellet under his chin, hair dyed a color that’d intimidate Crayola, and enough piercings to double as a wind instrument.
The office, if you could call it that, had that Early American Hurricane look going for it.
Another rollocking read by a master storyteller. Try as I might to analyse his technique, I remain in awe of his skill. But just the wondering is a welcome distraction from reality. Therapeutic indeed.