A 4-book holiday

So it must have been good.

Book 1: The Final Reckoning by Sam Bourne.

Of the Dan Brown school of novel-writing but entertaining nevertheless. Very easy to read. But forgettable as I'm discovering now I'm trying to recall what it was about. Oh, yes, the hunt for Nazis.

The unfortunate thing was that the hotel we were staying in was very popular with Germans. I don't normally have anything against Germans but having just read a book describing some of the hideous practices against Jews made me screw up my eyes and bestow evil looks every time I heard a fatherland accent.

Which set me thinking that many of the people in the resort would have been our age or older and their parents would almost certainly have fought during the war, and I wondered how so many people could so easily be taken in by the evil that was Hitler, and whether I would have been, and what the next generation thought about the Nazi party and the war.

Which was far too heavy going for a holiday so ...

Book 2: Class by Jane Beaton.

Now this was more like it. In the author's blurb, she says that growing up on a council estate, she loved the tales of boarding schools so decided to write one for grown-ups. It's only just for grown-ups, dealing with the lives of both the girls and the staff. All jolly hockey sticks and the fat girl gets to win in the end. Great stuff and I shall look for the next one in the series.

Book 3: The Gospel According to Luke by Emily Maguire.

An Australian love story with a difference. On one side of the street you have the sexual health clinic run by Aggie Grey, atheist daughter of a famous lesbian mother; on the opposite side you have the Christian youth centre, led by pastor Luke, who's a handsome orphaned fundamentalist. They clash, fall in love, cause and face all sorts of problems. Oh, and in between you have Honey, a pregnant sixteen-year-old. There are no easy answers in this but the story does end with a sense of hope. Just.

Book 4: Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby.

I've enjoyed Nick Hornby's books in the past but this one, though described as witty, funny and vintage Hornby, didn't really please me overly. There were some good bits and interesting characters but the bit I think was meant to be funny, I just found incredibly irritating.

Now it's time to go back to the library.