Crossing Generational Trauma- Wild Swans and Fly Wild Swans.

Women, Memory and Exile: A School Library Reflection

Adding Fly Wild Swans to our school library felt like a natural continuation of a legacy. Wild Swans has long stood as a canonical piece of literature, a book that captures the struggles of three generations of women against the backdrop of China’s political upheavals. In her second publication Fly Wild Swans, Jung Chang turns her gaze inward, reflecting on the cost of telling that story and the way truth can estrange a writer from her homeland. It is a pensive work that reminds us how women across centuries have shouldered familial and societal expectations, carrying memory and resilience even when nations would rather forget.

Jung Chang and her canons of literature

For students, these books are more than history. They are lessons in courage, in the power of memory and in the resilience of women who endured both familial duty and political oppression. Wild Swans explores the tension between tradition and rapid government‑driven progress. What was presented as modernisation often meant the destruction of customs and the breaking of family bonds as the Cultural Revolution tore families apart and demanded loyalty at the expense of tradition. Her story gave voice to three generations of women living through the upheavals of Mao’s China and this new work is written not only of her mother and her homeland, but of the burden of truth itself, and the cost of bearing witness when a nation would rather forget.

Fly Wild Swans reveals the aftermath of telling that truth, showing how a writer can be celebrated abroad yet silenced at home. Jung Chang turns her gaze inward, reflecting on the cost of telling that story and the way truth can estrange a writer from her homeland. Unlike Wild Swans, which focused on her mother and grandmother, this new work is more personal. It explores how writing Wild Swans changed her life, both opening doors in the West and closing them in China. There is a deep melancholy in her reflections on being unable to freely return to her birthplace. The success of Wild Swans brought her recognition abroad but estrangement at home. This tension between belonging and exclusion mirrors the broader story of women in history, who have often been celebrated for their endurance yet denied the freedom to define themselves.

I chose to buy Fly Wild Swans for my school library because it is a book that students should encounter, not only for its historical insight but also for its profound exploration of resilience, identity and the role of women in shaping and surviving history. Adding Fly Wild Swans to our collection ensures that the conversation continues, allowing readers to see how the legacy of truth‑telling reverberates across generations.

By placing both works on our shelves, we invite students to consider how politics, family and identity intersect, and how women across centuries have borne the burden of expectation while still finding ways to endure. These books remind us that literature is not static. It evolves, it questions and it carries forward the weight of generations.

Book Review – The Impossible Fortune

Richard Osman’s fifth novel in the Thursday Murder Club series, The Impossible Fortune, kicks off with a wedding—Joyce’s daughter Joanna is finally getting married. But the celebration takes a sharp turn when best man Nick announces that someone is trying to kill him. From that moment, the familiar crew of pensioners is drawn into yet another mystery, this time involving a hidden Bitcoin fortune, a car bombing, and a tangled web of suspects. It is nice to read a novel where the main characters are not in their flush of youth.  Gives someone who is quite frankly set in their middle age, some hope for age appropriate literature.

One of the first things that stood out to me was the large print. Compared to other novels I’ve read recently, this one is an absolute breeze to get through. It’s easy on the eyes and makes for a more relaxed reading experience, especially if you’re dipping in and out over a few days. The chapters are also cleverly titled by days of the week, which helps anchor the plot and gives a sense of progression—especially useful given the shifting perspectives between characters.

The emotional tone of the book is a little more poignant than previous instalments. Elizabeth is still reeling from the loss of her husband Stephen, and Osman handles her grief with sensitivity and depth. It adds a layer of introspection to the story without slowing down the pace. Ibrahim continues to be the group’s voice of reason, offering advice to friends and foes alike, including the ever-scheming Connie Johnson, who ironically saves Ron’s bacon eventually.

Joyce remains a delight, and her relationship with Joanna is given more attention here, adding warmth and humour to the narrative. The mystery itself is well-paced, with enough twists to keep you guessing but not so many that it becomes convoluted. Osman’s trademark wit is present throughout, and the characters continue to evolve in ways that feel authentic and earned.

I particularly enjoyed the plot line of Suzi, Jason, and Ron trying to evade the evil machinations of horrid wife beating Danny.  The perspective of Kendrick reminded me once again that the biggest victims of domestic violence are children and their lost childhoods.  Osman manages  rather cleverly to use Kendrick’s internal monologue to reveal his childhood trauma to the reader.

Overall, The Impossible Fortune is a satisfying continuation of the series—accessible, emotionally resonant, and full of charm. It’s not literature by any means but rather a pleasant holiday read as it requires very little cognitive processing.  However, it is a story about friendship, ageing, and the thrill of solving a good puzzle, all wrapped up in Osman’s signature style.

Book Review – Before the Coffee Gets Cold

What if you could travel back in time—but only for the duration of a single cup of coffee?

Toshikazu Kawaguchi’s Before the Coffee Gets Cold is a short novel, or novella if you wish to use that term that reminds you about regrets and how they can influence your actions. The novel is about a small, tucked-away Tokyo café where time travel is possible, but with strict rules. You can revisit the past, but you can’t change it. You must sit in a specific seat. And most importantly, you must return before your coffee gets cold. As a teacher and a parent, I am used to drinking cold coffee and how people actually drink warm coffee at work is a mystery to me!

Thank you Julia for the loan

The novel unfolds through four interconnected stories, each exploring themes of love, loss, regret, and reconciliation. The characters—a woman hoping to reconnect with a lover, a sister grieving her sibling, a mother longing for her child—are ordinary people facing emotionally charged moments. Kawaguchi’s writing is simple and understated, allowing the emotional depth of each story to shine through.

Unlike a novel I read recently (will not name names but ole Mate Danny), Kawaguchi uses provoking language and variated sentence structure to evoke emotion in the reader. This book, written with quiet clarity and emotional depth, avoids dramatic flourishes or unnecessary embellishments, instead offering a straightforward, sincere narrative that invites reflection without demanding attention.

If you could revisit a moment, not to change it, but to understand it better—would you?

Books like this remind us that stories have the power to shift our perspective. They can make us pause and reflect on our own choices, relationships, and regrets. Before the Coffee Gets Cold encourages readers to consider how they treat others, how they communicate, and what truly matters in the fleeting moments of everyday life. It’s a quiet nudge to be more present, more thoughtful, and more intentional.

Perfect for readers who enjoy reflective, character-driven stories, Before the Coffee Gets Cold is a gentle reminder that while we can’t rewrite the past, we can reshape how we carry it forward. It’s a book best read slowly, perhaps with a warm drink in hand and a quiet space to think.

Book Review – James by Percival Everett

Percival Everett’s James is a profound act of literary reclamation. Shortlisted for the 2024 Booker Prize, the novel reimagines Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from the perspective of Jim—now James—a character whose voice was historically muffled by the hidden curriculum of Twain’s original novel. In Twain’s version, Jim is viewed as a sympathetic bystander, sidelined. His views filtered through Huck’s lens, his speech distorted to fit white expectations. The novel taught generations to empathise with Jim, but not to truly hear him. Because why would the slave Jim, have anything important to say?

Everett changes that. In James, the enslaved man is literate, philosophical, and quietly radical. He reads Locke and Voltaire, not as a literary flourish, but as a declaration of intellectual agency. He is articulate, intelligent and his perspicuity makes him a clear hero. James performs the dialect expected of him not because he lacks education, but because survival demands performance. Exposing his intelligence would have only led to his downfall. This inversion is powerful—it exposes the performative nature of race in literature and life and reminds us how often people of colour have been forced to speak in ways that comfort white audiences.

The novel also speaks to a broader truth: for much of literary history, the voices of people of colour have been excluded from the mainstream. The canon has long been shaped by a narrow lens—English-speaking, white, and often male. Even today, the global literature market remains dominated by English-language publishing and a WASP-centric worldview, making it difficult for diverse stories to break through. James stands out not only for its literary brilliance but for its bold challenge to that status quo. This is especially resonant in the current socio-political climate in the United States, where history itself is being rewritten based on political ideologies. School curricula are being reshaped, books banned, and narratives sanitised. In this context, Everett’s decision to retell Huckleberry Finn from James’s perspective is not just literary—it’s political.

It’s a reminder that storytelling is power, and that reclaiming voice is an act of resistance.

Everett’s prose is sharp, lyrical, and laced with irony. He doesn’t just give James a voice—he gives him agency, complexity, and dignity. James is not a corrective to Twain’s novel, but a conversation with it. It invites readers to reconsider not just the stories we read, but the structures that decide which stories are told, and which are silenced.

Book Review – Hangman

Hangman by Jack Heath, published in 2018, marks his first foray into adult fiction after a successful career writing young adult novels. Known for fast-paced, clever storytelling in the YA space, Heath takes a bold leap into darker territory with this gripping thriller—and he doesn’t hold back.

The novel is centred around Timothy Blake, a consultant for the FBI with a disturbingly dark secret: he’s a cannibal. Heath crafts a character who is both brilliant and deeply unsettling, challenging readers to grapple with their own sense of right and wrong. One could argue that the end justifies the means.  Others would say that the dignity of a person should always be at the forefront of any decision making.

The novel leans heavily into thriller territory, with relentless tension and a breakneck pace. However, it’s also more graphic than many traditional mysteries, featuring scenes that some readers may find unsettling or overly gory. If you’re sensitive to violence or visceral detail, this one might push your limits.

Despite the intensity, Hangman stands out for its originality and daring. It’s a bold start to a series that explores the darker edges of justice and human nature. If you can stomach the gore, it’s a compelling read that redefines what a crime thriller can be.