Thank you Adam for yet again writing the review for this book. Why didn’t I do It? I am sorry to say that I didn’t finish reading it! No excuses but I will return to it one day! I loved the fact that it was set in the 70s and the memories it stirred in me brought my teenage days vividly back to life!! The years of the BIG divide – David Cassidy or Donny Osmond? Or were you a David Bowie fan watching him transforming himself from apocalyptic space-age mutant to decadent cocaine lounge lizard in make up or did you get a thrill watching Captain & Tennille dancing around in knitwear blasting out Love Will Keep Us Together. Were you a flaired Levis or Wranglers person? Or maybe it was Lee Coopers for you. And what about a pair of loons?? Two tone, if you please. And what about those Sunday evening at 6pm when a notice would be smacked on the back of the door announcing boldly to the rest of the family to STAY OUT – RECORDING IN PROCESS. Sunday was Top 40 recording evening with first, Alan ‘Pop Pickers’ Freeman on Pick of the Pops and then Tom Browne with his Solid Gold Sixty show featuring new releases, climbers and chart entries not in the Top 20 beginning at 4pm and then the Top 20 6pm, when the complicated recording session would begin. There was no talking allowed due to the external mike precariously balancing next to the wireless, taping each song in turn and the timing had to be impeccable ending the recording before the introduction to the next hit began. Mine was exactly like this!!
What about the cinema? Now this was a breakthrough time for the silver screen. It was a golden age of modern cinema with bold directors and big stars scoring audience-pleasing box-office hits with complex, tragic stories rooted in real life -Jaws, The Godfather, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, Taxi Driver, The Deer Hunter, Kramer v Kramer and Apocalypse Now to name but a few. And TV – Charlie’s Angels, Some Mothers Do Have Em, Dad’s Army, A Family at War, Man About the House, M.A.S.H., Happy Days and the heartbreaking love I felt for Kid Curry (Ben Murphy) every Sunday afternoon watching Alias Smith and Jones.
It was also the invasion of the musicals. School trips were arranged to London to Evita to watch the gorgeous David Essex, Godspell, Sweeney Todd, Jesus Christ Superstar. The JCS film was played over and over again -“Every time I look at you I don’t understand/Why you let the things you did get so out of hand?” I can hear it now and hear Yvonne Elliman’s haunting rendition of ‘I Don’t Know How to Love Him’.
Nostalgia, pure nostalgia. There were the days of popping in to neighbours’ houses with no advanced warning, playing in the street and in and out of each other’s houses, the sheer excitement of colour TV, using public transport ALL the time, Spot the Ball, running down the shop to buy 10 Players cigarettes, the end of ‘old money’ and having to deal with tiny half pence pieces, ABBA, orange and brown, Jackie and Fab 208, buying sweets ‘on tick’ from the local shop after school only to find at the end of the month, my mother sitting at the kitchen table one unsuspected afternoon with a thunderous look on her usual smiling, welcoming how-was-your-day face, instantly warning me that something BIG was amiss. There, lying on the kitchen table, the VG bill embarrassingly handed to my mother that afternoon totalling the extortionate sum of £3.60 – all spent on after school ‘rubbish’!! That was the last of the ‘on-tick’ purchasing for us!
Well, that was lots of fun, but I digress! This is a Book Club review page. My morning has completely disappeared, transformed into one big memory of my teenage years in this exact house, sitting at the exact same table that haunting ‘on-tick’ receipt was placed 45 years ago. The table where we sat deliberating where that confounded ball could be and would X mark the spot for us. The same house where we now hold our Book Club meetings. The very same, happy, warm, welcoming lifetime house I am proud to call home.
And so……..to the review. The Trouble with Goats and Sheep
I found that the biggest trouble with them is how boring they are! Hyuck hyuck, ok that was an easy low-blow. But the truth is there and this review will be fairly short. This book could have been a British, 1970’s equivalent of Desperate Housewives but instead was a pulpy rag where nothing happened. Instead of a cast of nosy but loveable characters with relatable problems, the characters in this novel are insipid, mewling busybodies who lie not to further an agenda but because they are cowards. More weasel than human, the neighbours of the protagonist (who I can’t remember the name of) exist only as sideshow curios of How Not To Exist. The one character of interest is treated as an outsider (which is intentional) but learning almost nothing about him, we have to put up with the other morons.
The only reason I haven’t stomped this book into the ground is because of the setting. The actual descriptions of 70’s England seem extremely accurate – the products used, dialogue spoken and even character actions fit the period. The main character walks into the houses of her neighbours and nobody bats an eyelid. This seems odd to me as someone who wasn’t born until the 90’s but on researching the period, this is indeed accurate (if still baffling) behaviour.
It isn’t enough to save the book though. The lack of plotting and bizarre religious undertones added nothing to my interest and I won’t be in a hurry to read anything else by the author.
2 out of 5.
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