The Carpenter's Pencil - Manuel Rivas

"The most widely translated work in the history of Galician literature", this story of love surviving during the Spanish civil war is intensely poetic, in the sense that what stood out most for me was not particular phrases or incidents that I am able to describe coherently here, but a lingering "aftertaste" of profound beauty. Although the book starts with a cynical journalist going to interview Dr Da Barca, an old Republican exile who we are told miraculously escaped death in 1936, most of the story is told through the memories of a former prison guard, who now works as a bouncer at a brothel, where the journalist reappears briefly at the end of the book - perhaps the purpose of this is simply to remind us that the essential meaning of a life is best expressed not in a simple narrative as told to a stranger, but through observing the influence it has had on others.

Herbal the guard initially followed & watched Da Barca not only because of his official orders but also through a bitter, jealous hatred, fuelled partly by his obsession with Da Barca's beautiful girlfriend Marisa, and their lives remain entwined throughout the book. The "carpenter's pencil" of the title refers to a souvenir kept by Herbal following his killing of a painter who was a fellow-prisoner and friend of Da Barca. This violent murder strangely stands out as a kind act in the brutal guard's life, since it was carried out to save the painter from a prolonged and painful death, and from that point onwards the painter's voice appears to encourage him to act as a protector to the doctor and his love, and he repeatedly intervenes positively (although discreetly) protecting the doctor from death several times and colluding in allowing the couple a "wedding night" in a hotel during a prison transfer.

I liked the complexity of the guard's character, as he struggles with the competing influences of the dead painter and another internal voice who encourages him to gain power through bullying and cruelty, and we see his relationships with family members (particularly his sister's husband) which show him in a different light. A few brief passages describing prison life at that time also stuck in my mind, such as a "meal" conjured by hypnotism as a favour to another prisoner, culminating in chestnuts as served by his mother, and a moment of subtle resistance as a hall-full of men cough quietly in unison in response to an announcement about a victory for Franco's Spain.

Child 44 - Tom Rob Smith

I enjoyed this book on two levels. The main plot - a thriller about a rogue state security agent on the trail of a serial killer - kept me gripped and made me want to devour it in large chunks until I reached the end, but I ultimately found the resolution a little too neat to provide more than a one-off burst of satisfying escapism. The window that the story provided into life in Russia under Stalin, however, was totally compelling and raised challenging questions that were still going around in my head weeks later. The transformation of the lead character is fascinating, as he gradually changes from a loyal believer, able to ignore obvious inconsistencies in an official report in order to uphold the principle that "there is no crime" in the perfect new communist society, to a rebel on the run in search of the truth, learning how false the foundations of his life have been and starting to experience a genuine relationship between equals for the first time. My favourite parts of this book were its exploration of the distorting effects of an environment of fear and unequal power on everyday relationships, and the believable way that it showed the capacity of ordinary people to make devastating choices when their own or their families' survival depended on it.