Time Stands Still for No One?

As we tentatively turn the early pages of 2022, it puts me in mind of the recent launch of the latest novel by Kevin Ansbro – a moment of exciting expectation to be savoured. Ordinarily the author has a distinctive flair for storytelling and perhaps a connection to the Blarney Stone, which has the reader suspending any shred of disbelief, to simply revel in the warmth and feel-good vibe radiating from the page. Yet, with each new book, the author needs to deliver anew.

In his latest book, “In the Shadow of Time”, Mr Ansbro utilises the device of time travel, albeit sparingly, but the presence of a machine opens the door to the prospect of extraterrestrial technology and the possibility that alien beings walk among us, or at the very least, have a ringside seat to the soap opera that is humanity. Still, in this incarnation, ‘they’ are more than bystanding viewers, able to influence individual lives and the impact for the clutch of main characters is profound. I have commented in earlier reviews of the author’s penchant for the unusual melding of elements from multiple genres and here too Mr Ansbro has created a kaleidoscope of literary colour, borrowing from romance, scifi, thriller, contemporary history and the paranormal, embroidered together in a unique style, which also shares with the reader the author’s twinkle-in-the-eye humour and fondness for the absurdly macabre.

Hugo Wilde is of noble birth, yet plies his trade as an assassin for British intelligence, supported by his loyal friend and sidekick, Vincent O’Toole. Meanwhile, also residing in 2020 England, Sophia Ustinova is a leading physicist, married to a Russian assassin backed by the Kremlin. It’s an unlikely match, not so much ‘made in heaven’, as enabled by the distance of fifty years and the sanctuary provided by the intervention of benign, but mysterious benefactors. Starting from different spots in time and space, ‘fate’ conspires for the lives of two remarkable youngsters in the story, Pablo and Luna, to also converge in a new home in Mexico City, 1970. The gathered cast are all integral to the plot and for a series of reasons appear to have been granted the chance for a fresh start, unhindered by disparate pasts, but with the means to influence a series of wholly different future outcomes. Indeed, the theme of salvation is strong within a story that oozes a sense of karma at play.

It is to the author’s credit that the intricate choreography of the central characters is understated and yet the attention paid to developing the supporting cast, as well as reference to authentic time and place detail, is also admirable. The reader instinctively wants good things to happen to good people. but through the trade-mark elegance of Mr Ansbro’s prose, even the resident villain is not begrudged the potential of a second chance. In common with many good books, this fine addition to Mr Ansbro’s growing body of work may evince different responses in the reader. For myself, the range stretched from the simple enjoyment of masterful storytelling evoking a range of emotions, to a thought-provoking tease, which I fancy may also have been the author’s intention. Bravo!

In any event, the New Year is off to a good start.

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Contrasting Fortunes

4:12 PM 26 JUNE 2020

One of the things I adore about Kevin Ansbro’s writing is the assured way in which he reconciles the seemingly incompatible. Few authors can so effortlessly weave together the incongruity of a European serial killer with a SE Asian mythical being, trapped in a two thousand year purgatory at the bottom of the Andaman Sea. Yet, the remarkable journey on which the author takes the reader also enmeshes very familiar human themes of attachment and loss, romantic love and platonic friendship, alongside Buddhist notions of karma. It makes for a heady mix!

This blending of perceived contrasts, the exotic and mundane, is exemplified perhaps in the main locations for the tale. With all due respect to the inhabitants of East Anglia, Norwich (UK) and Phuket (Thailand) are, on the face of it, very different! Still, through the travails of the main characters, the author suggests that human experience is not entirely shaped by location, or culture. If not ‘fate’, sometimes things are just ‘meant to be’.

Take the British couple, Calum and Hannah, they are close friends at school, but then are separated by the vagaries of family moves, but it is Calum’s solo visit to Thailand that proves the catalyst for a potential reunion with his ‘true love’. As well as developing an immediate affinity for this unfamiliar territory, Calum befriends a young local man, Sawat Leelapun, with a shared interest in martial arts, but a very different trajectory in life. As a boy, Sawat has survived the 2004 tsunami, but experienced the attendant tragedy and challenges that followed. He too has a significant other (‘Nok’), but more central is the bond formed between the two men and the influence of Sawat’s humble nature on his hot-headed British friend. As well as helping Calum reflect on his own approach to life, like the knock-on effect of dominoes, Sawat also confides in his friend an incredible secret he has harboured since childhood and introduces the reader to the mythical Kinnara.

This diversion into supernatural elements is not new for the author, but offers a very helpful vehicle for expressing the clear affection with which Mr Ansbro regards the people and culture of Thailand. ‘Klahan Kinnara’ is a prince among the mythical swan people, cast into the sea, spellbound and destined to be alone for eternity. Klahan is also separated from his beloved and like his human counterparts shares a profound sense of loss. The question posed by the story is whether the three couples can all rely on fate/karma/good fortune, or perhaps the invincible nature of their collective love, to generate similarly happy outcomes?

The fly in the ointment, of course, is the serial murderer I mentioned, but whilst the author has a penchant for a dash of the macabre, it is never arbitrary. Rather the latent threat is a further development of the contrast between good and evil. Just as the reader might hope for good things to happen to good people, the reverse can also be quite satisfying. With ‘Kinnara’ , the author has skilfully delivered another exhilarating and emotional ride for the reader and has secured another spot on my favourites shelf.

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Fate or Coincidence – a COVID Read

7:21 PM 12 APRIL 2020

Cometh the hour, cometh the book! Just when we had lapsed into the nightmarish ‘social isolation’ that has attended the COVID-19 pandemic, I happened upon this novel through the vagaries of Twitter and the #WritingCommunity. Perhaps, in keeping with the book, it might almost have been fated to rescue me from a state of pervasive gloom and offer a literary balm to a bruised psyche. Indeed, Kevin Ansbro’s tale of love and devotion, in a variety of forms, is teeming with the ‘feel good factor’, but also succeeds in realizing the author’s self-confessed penchant for “handcuffing humour and tragedy to the same radiator”. It is hard to pidgeon-hole this book neatly into a single genre. Thrilling – certainly, philosophical at times, but it is also brimming with pathos, humour, suspense and love rather than romance, juxtaposed with far darker strands of human life and even the hereafter.

To revel in what man (and woman) is capable of, is to wonder at a fathomless capacity for altruistic good and yet also recognize a breathtaking instinct for selfishness and even unalloyed evil. In “The Fish that Climbed a Tree” the author deftly traverses that continuum in a cleverly conceived plot that draws upon the experience of an impressive range of characters, whose respective journeys are influenced by an active (or in some cases very redundant) moral compass.

The heroically named Ulysses Drummond, vicar of St Cuthbert’s, Hackney, and Iraq war veteran, was of a good family and with his diminutive wife Florence had made a very positive contribution to their community. They were also proud parents of Henry, aged 10, when the couple were brutally murdered in front of their young boy. By contrast, the murderers – Ukranian gangster, Yuri Voloshyn and Rwandan war criminal, Pascall Makuza, are on a very different trajectory towards judgement day. Still, whether by fate, or a series of coincidences, the Drummonds will be dogged by that fateful day, as Henry passes into adulthood and a date with destiny foretold in the book’s prologue.

Along the way, through boarding school and into his life in London, Henry’s timid, shy naivety ensures he is bullied and beaten, nurtured and comforted, encouraged and feted, but it is the relationships that he forms and the decisions he must live by, which intrigue the reader. That and the heady blend of supporting characters, so well drawn, as to remind me of Dickens, long before the author’s nod to “A Christmas Carol” in the final chapter.

While I accept that, at times, Ansbro’s extravagant use of language, with a liberal sprinkling of adjectives, similes and metaphors may not be to every taste, for me such flourishes added to the charm of this book. The underground train’s “doors closed with a matron’s shush…”, simply an example of well-crafted writing. Indeed, the style (except for the repeated use of “Omigod”) felt part of some glorious former era, which of course may say as much about my reading preferences.

However, in a happy coincidence, my review also now chimes with #IndieApril and pays tribute to an often neglected well of writing talent. Moreover, I am grateful to Kevin Ansbro for a tremendous diversion in these troubled times and do not hesitate in loading this novel onto my ‘favourites’ shelf. I hope that when I return to it in future, I shall recall the contrasting real-life circumstances surrounding this first reading.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.