I Dreamed of Africa, Kuki Gallman

I devoured this in a few days. It is addictive and beautifully written. There is a shadow over the whole book, you know right from the off that some thing awful will happen, but that only serves to make everything deeper and more poignant. It is dated, there is a sort of colonial undertone to everything, and I was always wondering where they and their friends got their money from. However that doesn't ruin it. The book really is a love letter to Kenya but it also says something very powerful about the author's realtionships, with her family, but also with friends and aquaintances.

The Midnight Library, Matt Haig

I thoroughly enjoyed this. At midnight one night Haig's protagonist finds herself in a huge library, where she can step into any of the lives she might have lived if she had made different choices (stayed in the band, said yes to the coffee date etc) Predictably, through all this, she finds that in each life, there she herself is, she can't ever escape that, but she comes to realise what she does actually want out of life.

 There are a few details I'd change about the book and I think there could have been less time on the big, obvious regrets and more on the little ones, or more on the fall-out of having to leave these other lives when she wasn't totally happy there. However in the end it was a great book, compellingly written and with a nice ending

 

My Life, Marc Chagall

 

I loved this, I knew nothing in about Chagall, neither his art or his life, but found this in a bookshop. What intrigued me, along with the illustrational sketches, was that he had written it as he was about to leave his home of Russia and move to Paris in 1922.

It is written in a melancholic, nostalgic, dream-like tone. Snatches of impressions of incidents, people and old habits are interspersed with more traditionally told memories as Chagall tells the story of his youth and early adulthood.