Gillespie and I

by Jane Harris

From the Orange Prize-nominated author of The Observations comes an absorbing, atmospheric exploration set in turn-of-the-century Glasgow of one young woman’s friendship with a volatile artist and her place in the controversy that consumes him.

Genres: Historical Fiction, Fiction, Mystery, Historical, Scotland, Crime, Literary Fiction

Paperback

First published May 1, 2011

About the author

There is more than one author with this name in the GR database

Jane Harris was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland, and raised in Glasgow. Her short stories have appeared in a wide variety of anthologies and magazines, and she has written several award-winning short films. In 2000, she received a Writer's Award from the Arts Council of England.

She started writing by accident while living in Portugal in the early Nineties. She says, "I had no TV, hardly any books, no money. And so, just to amuse myself, I started writing a short story. It was about an ex-boyfriend who happened to be a transvestite. I had such a great time writing that story that I immediately wrote another one, about another ex-boyfriend; all my early stories were about ex-boyfriends. I kept writing these stories and they were getting published in anthologies and magazines. By this time, I had moved back to Scotland, having decided that I wanted to be a writer."

She studied creative writing at the University of East Anglia, and then became writer-in-residence in Durham prison. It was there that she began her first novel, structured as a set of short stories. One of these short pieces was about a farmer-poet and a girl he acquires songs from. However, Harris says that as soon as she invented the voice of the girl, Bessy started taking over and she ended up ditching the farmer and focusing on Bessy and "Missus" - the woman who employs her as a maid.

The project ground to a halt at about 10,000 words when Harris started to write short scripts for her husband, film director Tom Shankland; two films, Going Down (2000) and Bait (1999), were nominated for Bafta awards. When she rediscovered her novel in a box in the attic in 2003 she says that she couldn't believe she had abandoned Bessy. She sent the first 100 pages to publishers, and a bidding war took place between Faber, Fourth Estate and Hodder for UK rights. The Observations was published by Faber & Faber (UK) and Viking (USA) in hardcover in 2006.

Reviews

[Will Byrnes · Rating 3 out of 5]

Caveat Lector! I am including significant spoiler material in here. You hae been warned.

When I began reading Gillespie and I, it was a bit of a compulsion. Usually I have two books open at a time, one that I tote about with me and another that I dip into just before bedtime. While reading Gillespie I used it for both, a rare event.

The format here is Harriet Baxter, an old lady in 1933, recalling events that had taken place over forty years past. We spend the bulk of our time in the 19th century, with occasional interludes in 20th Century London, as Harriet writes her memoir.

The 1888 version of Harriet seems a good egg (I picture Anna Maxwell Martin in the role).



She is in her mid-thirties, having spent her youth taking care of older relatives in London. With the passing of the last of these, she has inherited enough to allow her to live decently without having to work. She heads north to Glasgow at the time of the Great International Exposition. In a chance encounter she saves the life of Elspeth Gillespie, the Gillespie family matriarch, and becomes a fixture in Elspeth’s family. Not least of these is Ned Gillespie, a young artist of considerable promise.

The family is a mixed bunch. Ned is married to Annie, an aspiring artist as well, and they have two daughters, the pretty and agreeable Rose and the probably sociopathic Sibyl. Harriet becomes a frequent guest, practically part of the family, not only reveling in their company but eager to help out. The Gillespies are not quite starving artists, as they own a small business and employ a maid, but as far as the local art world goes they are definitely on the lower rungs. Harriet tries, in particular, to help Ned.

Over time problems with the family emerge. Ned’s brother Kenny has a secret. Sibyl keeps demonstrating that there is something wrong with her. Annie and Elspeth are not the best of friends. When a kidnapping occurs, family strains come to the fore. When Harriet is accused of the crime, we have to wonder if there was something we missed.


Jane Harris - image from The Irish Times

Harris tempers her less than lovely look at late 19th Century Scotland with a bit of levity. She offers lightly comedic portrayals of Elspeth in particular, Ned’s sister Mabel and Harriet’s wealthy, but reclusive stepfather Ramsay. These critical views of characters are via the eyes of Harriet, who, we see, is less than the one hundred percent proper British lady the world sees. These are sufficient to generate slight grins but there is not a guffaw in sight. Clearly the intent is to show us something about Harriet and not effect raucous laughter. Harris offers less than complimentary views of reporters and the extant legal system as well.

For those looking for a bit of symbolism, 1933 Harriet names her greenfinches Layla and Majnum for star-crossed lovers of Arab legend. She also deconstructs the nests these birds make, shaking any eggs produced until they are no good. What are we to think this reveals about her behavior so many years back? Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is mentioned, encouraged by a reference to a relation in Switzerland. Further, someone is framed for a small crime in the same way as happens in the older work. Later, Annie imagines herself as a bird looking in someone’s window, always an outsider, somewhat like the big guy. Surely a single woman of independent means in 1888 Glasgow is by definition an outsider. And Harriet’s affection for the very married Ned makes her an outsider to romance as well. Ned is also described as an outsider in the art world of Glasgow, echoing the theme. Is there any chance for outsiders to work their way in, to acceptance?

And this being Scotland, there must be a bit of Calvinist predestination in the air:

Try as we might we cannot escape the inescapable; we are all of us doomed to live out our destinies, like the servant in the fable, who hopes to elude death by fleeing to Samarkand, only to find upon his arrival in the town, that Death is there, waiting for him, after all.

Is everything pre-destined? Certainly the outcomes here seem governed by ungovernable forces.

Sibyl’s behavior with her father may or may not be highly Oedipal. Harriet’s residence for a time is a place called Merlinsfield which certainly suggests something magical. Another character has a Regan moment resonant of The Exorcist, but without the supernatural implications.

Harris draws the reader in with her proper but charming Harriet and a lively extended Scottish family. In addition, Harriet is a doer of good deeds, which certainly encourages our allegiance. But I felt that the movement of the story all but ceased when Harriet was brought to trial. Harriet in peril, after we have gotten to know her, can be gripping reading. And yet, I found that much of it was not. I kept hoping that there would be a big reveal about Harriet, references to clues that Harris had planted earlier in the story to show us that Harriet was not what we supposed her to be. But it was not to be, and thus the story petered out. The enthusiasm I had for the book early on became much reduced during these latter sections. Ultimately, while I enjoyed most of the journey, I found the ending disappointing. It felt like a lot of teasing for merely a kiss.

Overall, though, this is an engaging read, and you may find the finale more to your liking than I did. Harris is clearly a talented writer and I am sure we can look forward to many more engaging reads from her.

=============================EXTRA STUFF

Links to the author’s personal, Twitter and FB pages

[Beverly · Rating 4 out of 5]

An old woman, Harriet Baxter, tells her story, she goes back and forth between 1880s Glasgow where she attended their International Exhibition of 1888 and her now quiet life in England in the 1930s. Gillespie is an up and coming young artist she met and befriended in her youth.

This starts out as rather a fun romp with some silly characters and strange events and then becomes dark. I won't say anything more than that there is a mystery or two thrown into the mix and the reader doesn't know what to believe. Don't read too many reviews if you're thinking of reading this, because they will likely give away the secrets without even trying too hard.

Gillespie and I is an excellent slice of Victorian crime novel with the cherry on top.

[Blair · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read Jane Harris's debut, The Observations, a couple of years ago. I thought it was very good, but nothing about it really suggested to me that the author would go on to write a minor masterpiece. However, as soon as I started hearing good things about Gillespie and I, I had this feeling I was going to love it; something to do with the plot synopsis combined with all the good things I was hearing about it (the reviews here, so far, are overwhelmingly great) and, of course, that absolutely beautiful cover design (I really hope they don't alter it for the paperback edition). The story is told by Harriet Baxter, an elderly woman living alone in London in 1933. She has begun to write a memoir about her acquaintance with a young Scottish artist, Ned Gillespie - who she describes as a close friend and 'forgotten genius' - in 1888. The narrative occasionally revisits Harriet's 'present day', but for the most part, it concentrates on her memories of 1888; a time when, as an unmarried woman in her mid-30s, she was already sidelined as a 'spinster' and enduring a difficult relationship with her stepfather, and came to develop an intense friendship with the Gillespies - Ned, his wife Annie, their children Sibyl and Rose, as well as Ned's siblings and his comically overbearing mother Elspeth.

In the beginning, Gillespie and I reminded me of nothing more than Kazuo Ishiguro's The Remains of the Day, and I saw Harriet as a female counterpart to that book's protagonist, Stevens. The narrative has the same tone of ennui and regret, the same faintly nostalgic sense of recalling a life unfulfilled, the same suggestions of unrequited love - it almost immediately seems quite apparent that Harriet nurtured, at the very least, an ardent admiration for Ned. However, mid-way through the story, the plot takes a completely unexpected turn - and this is where writing my review becomes difficult, because if I give away the details of what happens, it will completely spoil the surprise for anyone who wants to read it, and this is a book I would undoubtedly encourage everyone to read. Suffice to say, a series of unfortunate incidents plague the Gillespie family, culminating in a truly awful event, the aftermath of which will alter the life of every character involved. Mirroring the build-up to this climax, the elderly Harriet begins to have misgivings about her taciturn 'companion' Sarah, which gradually escalate into severe, virtually hysterical paranoia. Throughout both strands of the narrative, Harriet's unreliability as a narrator slowly becomes increasingly apparent.

I have read some truly great books this year - this is my seventh five-star review of 2011, and I can think of two or three more worthy of four-and-three-quarter stars - but Gillespie and I is without a doubt my favourite so far, and a strong contender for my book of the year. (Am I being way too presumptuous if I say I hope-slash-think it will be at least longlisted for the 2011 Booker as well? Edited 26/07/11: Yes. Jane Harris wuz robbed.) Reading this book is like unwrapping a densely padded parcel - at first, you think you've got a pretty good idea of what it's going to be, but as different layers are peeled away, you grow less and less sure of what lies at its heart. Despite everything, I loved Harriet, right to the very last page - her unique, inimitable voice with its pedantic streak (her admonishment of another character for saying 'red chester' instead of 'register' really made me laugh), her palpable loneliness combined with a conniving and manipulative nature, her dry wit and dark humour.

This is an exquisitely crafted, blackly comic and utterly haunting novel. I can tell the unsettling endings (of both parts of the narrative) are going to stay with me for some time, and I know I'll want to read the book again. A fantastic achievement - I can't wait to see what Jane Harris writes next.

[switterbug (Betsey) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Are you in the mood for a delicious, lurid, butt-kicking, hair-raising, and guilt free reading experience? Literary licks meets cinematic thriller? You are here. Press Go--or run, not walk to your nearest book seller or library. Grab a seat, speed-dial food-to-go, call in sick, and let the babysitter put the kids to bed. Oh...and don't read the book blurb; let yourself be astonished as you burn through this all-consuming novel. Once the first ninety pages or so go by at a casual clip, you will be pinned like a fly in a spider's web.

Ever since I read Harris' debut novel, THE OBSERVATIONS, I knew that I was in the hands of a first-rate writer. THE OBSERVATIONS, written in the patois of a Scottish scullery maid who narrates the story, takes you gradually on a sharp, twisting, dark tale. As in this book, it starts out rather chipper and mannerly, like a book of habits and manners would do, replete with subtly braided social commentary and Dickensian characters. And then...it seizes you by the throat. In GILLESPIE, it also starts out decorous and Jane Austen-like. The territory then morphs to something like Poe. Both books are what I would call "sleepers." As in THE OBSERVATIONS, this takes place in 19th century Scotland, this time in Glasgow rather than Edinburgh.

I'll reveal the set-up only: Harriet Baxter, a British woman in her 30's of independent means, befriends the Gillespie family of Glasgow in 1888. Ned Gillespie is an artist on the rise, but still struggling to make ends meet. He lives with his wife and their two young daughters, Sibyl and Rose. As the novel starts out, Harriet has saved the life of Ned's mother, a hovering gasbag, who has fallen down in the street. Thus their friendship begins. Harriet is narrating the story of their friendship, and Ned's ultimate suicide (this is revealed on the first page), as Harriet says:

"Who is left to tell the tale? Ned Gillespie: artist, innovator, and forgotten genius; my dear friend and soul mate."

Harriet is writing her memoir from her home in Bloomsbury, in 1933. She is now 75 years old, and seems lonely but proud, living in the house with her two beloved finches and an assistant to help with household tasks.

There are a few courtroom scenes that are a bit loose, at least as far as my understanding of legal proceedings, witness examination, and cross-examination. But these are minor irritations, and don't spoil the story. Moreover, I am no expert in 19th century Scottish law.

So, find a comfortable spot and settle in for a wild ride. Something along the lines of Jane Austen that either skyrockets or plunges into the Bad Seed. And then some. It is tart, tangy, and eventually adrenaline-fueling. Don't let the 500+ pages daunt you. I finished it in two days. I was transfixed! Jane Harris, you have done it again. I don't understand why she isn't a celebrated author; she is certainly a formidable writer!

[Leanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

The success of Gillespie & I is almost entirely due to its phenomenal narrator, Harriet Baxter - exceedingly polite, utterly manipulative, the master of the backhanded compliment, and one of the loneliest characters I have ever come across. She's the perfect example of a fictional person that you loathe so much you love, that you appreciate just for the meticulous character development. The rest of the novel is excellent too, with a slow-burning Victorian feel, and after you push through the somewhat dry first few chapters you won't put it down again. Although there were a few twists and turns, I was expecting most of them (probably due to reading with a more suspicious eye after skimming various reviews), and although it probably took off a star, it still speaks to its strength as a complete and balanced novel rather than something you only remember because it completely sucker punched you.

[Richard Derus · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rating: √2

The Book Report: There isn't anything I can say that won't be a spoiler here. The book description from Amazon says:
“As she sits in her Bloomsbury home with her two pet birds for company, elderly Harriet Baxter recounts the story of her friendship with Ned Gillespie—a talented artist whose life came to a tragic end before he ever achieved the fame and recognition that Harriet maintains he deserved.
In 1888, young Harriet arrives in Glasgow during the International Exhibition. After a chance encounter with Ned, she befriends the Gillespie family and soon becomes a fixture in their lives. But when tragedy strikes, culminating in a notorious criminal trial, the certainty of Harriet’s new world rapidly spirals into suspicion and despair.”

I think even that is a bit more than enough.

My Review: If my rating this book with an irrational, unknowable, eternally expanding number doesn't tell you everything you need to know about how I feel about the book, here it is in one sentence:

Massive amounts of fun on more levels than amusing, fun-to-read books ordinarily have.


This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

[Clouds · Rating 3 out of 5]

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my GIFTS AND GUILTY list.

Regardless of how many books are already queued patiently on my reading list, unexpected gifts and guilt-trips will always see unplanned additions muscling their way in at the front.

If I didn’t stick to certain rules, I would buy books far faster than I could ever hope to read them – resulting in the sad, sad, fate of far too many good books languishing unread upon my shelves. So I have rules that govern when I may buy a new book.

I allow myself eighteen unread books upon my shelves at any one time. Why eighteen? Because when I look at my ‘to-be-read’ shelf, here on goodreads, using the cover view, it shows them in rows of six. So, three rows of books is a nice, neat pool of eighteen books to select from. When I finish a book, I pick my next book from the pool of eighteen, and then I allow myself to buy another book (normally ordered from Amazon second hand, that very minute).

Again, I have my rules. The second tier shelf is ‘to-buy’ – these are the books I’d have already ordered by now if I wasn’t sticking to the rules. Again, I keep it stocked at eighteen books for the same reason, it’s a good sized pool to select from and looks nice and neat on my screen (I’m aware I’m a bit OCD about this, no need to comment!)

We have two more shelves to the system – the ‘wanted’ shelf, which I keep a little larger (thirty books) from which I promote one up to the ‘to-buy’ shelf whenever I have just ordered a book. Finally there’s my ‘long-list’ shelf, which covers everything else I’d like to get hold of, and from which I promote a single book up to the ‘wanted’ shelf whenever an opening arises.

So you see, I have this nice co-ordinated system of tiered book-buying, and whenever I finish a book it results in cascading promotions, which I love, because although I only actually buy one new book there’s another two which take a step closer to getting ordered.

Which is why gifts and borrowed books are such a pest! Don’t get me wrong, I love books and I love being given books – but they barge straight into the top shelf of the system, often making it overflow past the magic eighteen, and I’m forced to delay buying the books I actually wanted to get until I’ve read enough books to open that space back up. Since I did a tidy-up of outstanding unread books after moving house, my ‘to-be-read’ shelf has been dominated by those books I’ve had borrowed/bought/gifted. This is not ideal, so I’ve been pushing hard to get some of those cleared off, so I can fill those slots with the sci-fi/fantasy novels on my reading list.

Gillespie and I was a present from my Mum. I’m not entirely sure why she got it for me, she’s never read anything by Jane Harris before and she knows exactly what kind of books I love – it was my Mum who got me started on Peter Hamilton, Dan Simmons and David Mitchell – so I’m pretty sure it was on a whim because the cover-art looked great. The most exciting thing I can say about Gillespie and I is that now I’ve finished it, I’ve ordered The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making by Catherynne Valente! That’s not to say it was a bad book – it is actually a very clever and well written book – it’s just not a book I would have chosen to read and it didn’t pack enough wow/punch to make a convert of me.

So let’s review the actual book then, shall we?
* SPOILERS AHEAD – DIVERS ALARUMS!*
- I say this nice and clear because this review is going to be spoilerific, so if you’re planning to read this book soon, you really should NOT keep reading...

Gillespie and I is a story about an English spinster, Harriet Baxter in the 1880s. She moves to Glasgow after her Aunt dies and soon befriends the Gillespie family: promising working-class painter, Ned, his wife Annie, his overbearing mother, Elspeth, and his two young daughters Sybil and Rose. To begin with, we follow the trials and tribulations of the Ned’s domestic and professional life; Sybil is a naughty little girl, and it’s hard to break through as an established painter. There are overtones of foreboding regarding how sinister Sybil can be, and that something horrific happened to Ned’s youngest, Rose. Around the half-way point, Rose goes missing. Months later the little girl’s body is found in a shallow grave. Very quickly afterwards, Harriet is arrested and charged with kidnapping and murder. The latter part of the book follows the trial, and the crown’s case that Harriet was obsessed with worming her way into the Gillespie’s home and driving Ned’s family away from him, one by one. She’s accused of hiring some goons to kidnap the girl – they were meant to return her unharmed, but there was an accident during the getaway and she sustained a blow to the head and later died.

The story is told as Harriet’s memoire – she was cleared of all charges and, now an old lady, is telling her side of events. There’s a second thread ‘modern day’ (around 1920, I think) regarding Harriet’s life now, and in particular her new live-in maid, Sarah. Again, there’s tints and foreboding that Sarah is actually the mad daughter of the Gillespie’s, Sybil, come for her revenge.

It’s a great example of the unreliable narrator – this is Harriet’s version of events, and there are hints scattered throughout that her interpretation is more biased – despite all attempts to portray herself as a reasonable and objective witness. Before long, there’s little doubt that Harriet’s version of events is untrue, possibly delusional, and it’s down to the audience to read between the lines and piece together the true chain of events.

The image of Harriet that emerges is a complex, psychologically (perhaps pathologically?) damaged woman, who is very bright, very articulate, and has completely divorced her ‘good’ identity (the angle of mercy) from the scheming, devious, manipulative bitch she truly is. She believes every word of her lies and papers over the cracks with meticulous detail.

As mentioned in my introduction, this isn’t my normal kind of book. This is Mann Booker fare. This is Literature. I’m a genre geek. I can’t think of any books I’ve read with protagonists like this – but I have seen films that are comparable: Notes on a Scandal, Match Point and The Talented Mr Ripley are three that spring to mind. They’re creepy. They’re often described as psychological thrillers. It’s not a subgenre I’m fond of. It’s a kind of storytelling in which I can appreciate the skill and subtlety of the storytelling, the careful tightrope walk of doubt, empathy and disgust the protagonist elicits, but I’ve never really enjoyed it. If anything, Gillespie and I is a harder sell; all three of those films are motivated by (distorted forms of) love. You never get the sense that Harriet is in love with Ned, but she’s obsessed with his attention, perhaps as a surrogate father figure?

The book is superbly written, there’s no doubt about that. Wonderfully sketched characters, dialogue and detail – and the multi-layered delusion/truth in the telling is never conceited or convoluted. I can point to no flaws; I simply did not enjoy it.

The final, poignant moment where the mad old bat looks up at the picture of The Studio above her fire, and it's presence there completely obliterates any shreds of doubt - that was very nicely done. That almost earned it a fourth star, but that was an on-the-spot reaction which quickly faded.

Gillespie and I gets a respectful three-stars from me.

After this I read: My War Gone By, I Miss It So

[Traci · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wasn't prepared to be blown away by this book.

If I'm being honest, I really enjoyed The Observations and that is the sole reason that I requested the book when I purchased it for the library. I was a bit worried that this would be another Swan Thieves for me, but she seems to have pulled off the second novel (after the first success) quite nicely. Speaking of second novels, I'm still waiting, Diane Setterfield. It's been six years... get your butt in gear!

I can't really write about the plot without giving anything away (I'm not a person to be bothered by spoilers, but this is one of those books that you really don't want to know much of before hand).

One thing that I really loved about this book was that I enjoyed not liking any of the characters. Usually I have to like at least one of them to really become vested in a story, but this was quite the opposite. They were all equally annoying in their own ways, but it worked for me because the narration was so spot on.

As the book progressed, I found myself scratching my head wondering what the hell was going on... could I trust the eloquent Harriet? What's really going on here? And by the time I turned the last page of the book, I felt a bit used and abused (again because of the genius narration) but in a good way that reminded me of the feeling I had upon finishing Fingersmith (favorite read of 2010).

That all being said, I think this is a book that appeals very much to my reading tastes. It's set in the UK, in the past, and it messes with my mind without being too explicit. I'm not sure that others will quite feel the same way about this book, and I'm okay with that. I wish it had at least made the Booker long list, but maybe next time, Jane Harris.

[Nicky · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book had a really weird effect on me: after I finished, I sat there wondering if I was like the narrator — self-deluding, manipulative, not able to see what I’m doing or worse, knowing and yet somehow still managing to tell the story as if I’m the victim. There was something just so well done and so unpleasant about the way the narrator tells her profoundly skewed version of events, and the slow way the hints pile up about that. The little details you need to keep in mind, because they suddenly reveal something huge.

The main character is not likeable, though she is at times pathetic in a way that makes you pity her; the others around her are much more alive and genuine, though you only see them through the biased eyes of Harriet. Again, you have to watch for the gaps to see why she’s so fascinated, how these characters really feel about her, what is really going on. It’s not a mystery novel, not really, and yet in some ways you need to read it like one, watching out for the gun in the first act that must go off by the fifth.

The narration and set-up is really clever; I enjoyed the book a lot, though I wouldn’t recommend it for people who like a quick payoff. It takes a while to really see where the novel is going and what it’s doing. Worth it, but not everyone’s cup of tea.

Originally posted here.

[Monica. A · Rating 4 out of 5]

Difficile parlare di un libro senza rivelare niente. Impossibile accennare minimamente alla trama senza rovinare il piacere della lettura agli altri.
Che dire dunque?
Mi aspettavo di ritrovarmi a leggere la semplice storia di una famiglia vittoriana eppure, avendo già letto il primo romanzo dell'autrice, me lo sarei dovuta aspettare che non sarebbe stato così riduttivo anche il suo ultimo lavoro.
La famiglia in questiuone, i Gillespie, non è una famiglia qualunque ma è quella di un pittore scozzese un po' squattrinato e insolitamente gravato dalla presenza di una moglie e due figlie piccole che intralciano la sua creatività.
Harriet Baxter è invece una donna nubile, ormai una zitella inglese e benestante, libera di amministrare tempo e denaro a piacimento.
Le loro vite di incrociano per caso e, solo dopo, la loro amicizia si consolida in modo... morboso?
Il suo impicciarsi e intrufolarsi in casa svela una realtà diversa da quel che ci si immagina, una bambina problematica su cui scaricare tutte le colpe, una suocera invadente, un fratello che nasconde un segreto, e lei cerca solo di rendere la vita del pittore più tranquilla e semplice, niente altro.
Il sospetto si insinua pagina dopo pagina fino all'inevitabile tragedia che si consuma senza un apparente motivo.
Il merito dell'autrice è stato quello di farmi dubitare delle mie prime impressioni facendomi poi sentire in colpa per aver mal giudicato, illudendomi di aver mal interpretato situazioni ed eventi al solo scopo di farmi precipitare nell'incertezza fino all'ultima pagina.
Un solo particolare, una sola frase mi ha fatto capire che forse non mi ero sbagliata, ma quando ci si trova di fronte ad una insufficienza di prove è sempre difficile avere la certezza del proprio giudizio.

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

From BBC radio 4 Extra - 15 minutes drama:

Victorian gothic mystery by Jane Harris. In 1888, Harriet Baxter, an art-loving Englishwoman, arrives in Glasgow for the city's International Exhibition. She meets the Scottish painter, Ned Gillespie, and his wife, Annie - but tragedy is about to strike the Gillespies.

Dramatised by Chris Dolan.

The end was a bit disappointing but the book is quite good. Even if I asn't able to read the full story Gillespie and I by Jane Harris, an interesting article has been published about this book.

 

 

 

Self-portrait by Carel Fabritius. Most of his work was destroyed, like Ned Gillespie’s paintings in Gillespie and I.

I do recommend the reading of Will Byrnes review.

[Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

Review from Badelynge
I've never been the quickest of readers but this vibrantly written novel, weighing in at 500 plus pages, so engrossed me I devoured it in just 4 days. It seemed so innocent at first, beguiling me with its engagingly described cast of characters.
In 1933 Miss Harriet Baxter sits in her Bloomsbury apartment, tending to her caged finches and writing her memoir of the times she spent with Ned Gillespie over 4 decades earlier, an up and coming young artist, her dear friend, she dubs him, her soul mate even.
At once we are informed that her friend Gillespie and his young family are ill-fated, that the tale will end in tragedy, a tragedy so deep that the young man will destroy his life's work and take his own life. The first half of the book follows Harriet, then a thirty something spinster, as she relocates from London to Glasgow after the death of her Aunt, a woman who had brought her up after the death of her mother. In 1888 Glasgow hosts the first International Exhibition and Harriet decides to rent rooms nearby to take in the spectacle. A chance encounter, amusingly recounted through Harriet's memoir, brings her into the orbit of the Gillespie family, her timely extraction of half a set of dentures from the back of an old lady's throat, who turns out to be Ned's mother, is the first step on the road to what lies ahead. Over several months Harriet becomes almost part of the household, finding opportunity after opportunity to ingratiate herself among them.
Just as we start to get comfortable with the happy set up, Harriet reminds us that there are dark times ahead - a trial even, though what crime is looming and who is to stand accused is left unsaid. Although leisurely, the narrative at no stage bored me. Despite its length I was always either entertained or intrigued. I was fascinated by the complicated family dynamic, the Victorian detail, the depiction of Glasgow and its characters both fictional and historical, and of course, Harriet's colourful and often acerbic observations. It's fairly apparent that Harriet at times does resort to being manipulative, she's prone to bias and there's something quite off-kilter in some of her references to her stepfather and Ned, her so-called soul mate, but I still found myself liking her. The second half of the novel deals with the break down of the Gillespie family and the trial. I hold my hands up and admit I was completely wrong footed by how things progressed. I'll not say any more as I'd be risking straying into spoiler space. Suffice it to say that the conclusion doesn't disappoint.
I would heartily recommend this book as a great summer read, perfect for that sunny afternoon in the garden, though I must warn you that you may not notice the sun on your face, or the pleasant bird song in the trees, or the bees in the Buddleia - not if you sink as deep into Harriet Baxter's world as I did.
This review was from an Advance Reading Copy.

[Leslie Ray · Rating 3 out of 5]

The author captures the vocabulary and life style of the nineteenth century admirably, including the International Exhibition in Glasgow and art scene of the day. The book begins in the 1930's, as Harriet Baxter is writing her memoirs regarding her friendship/love of Ned Gillespie, an artist, and his family. Through a tragic turn of events, they are wrenched apart. The flashbacks and her current setting somewhat coincide as mysterious things happen to her in the present day as she recounts her brief immersion into the lives of the Gillespie family.

[Christine Kallner · Rating 2 out of 5]

Disclosure: I received a free copy of this book via a FirstReads giveaway on Goodreads in exchange for an honest review.

It pains me to give this book such a low rating, especially since I was so looking forward to reading it and most grateful for having won a free copy from GoodReads’s First Reads program.

I must say that I simply did not care for this book. I felt compelled to finish it and wanted to see how it ended, but I found myself really not caring about the story and certainly without any affection for the main character, Harriet Baxter. She seems nice enough, but is written as so “proper” that I felt very distant from her as a reader, even though the book is written from her point of view.

To summarize without giving too much away, Harriet befriends the Gillespie family while visiting Glasgow in the late 1800’s. She decides to stay in the city longer and a great tragedy occurs that ends with Harriet on trial -- a trial that seems to go on for ages with one outlandish accusation after another.

Before the trial, we get to know a bit about Harriet. She is English, unmarried and of independent financial means. She appears to be the type of person who “kills with kindness.” She is just overbearingly helpful and oblivious to the fact that her actions make others uncomfortable at times. She comes across as desperate for friendship and approval. In the chapters where she is an older woman, I found her character to be obsessive, strange and quite honestly, distasteful.

The writing was too descriptive at times and I found the book in general to be very tedious. It took me 20 days to finish it and that is extremely unusual for me. I felt the same issues and situations were revisited over and over again and not much interesting happened (and certainly nothing unexpected).

Perhaps I missed it, but the overwhelming thought in my mind when I finished this book was, “what was the point of that?” I have yet to come up with a decent answer to that question.

I have heard nothing but wonderful reviews of Ms. Harris’ first book, The Observations and I will certainly give that title a chance, but I sincerely hope it is better than this one.

See more of my reviews at http://bucklingbookshelves.blogspot.com

[Ellis · Rating 4 out of 5]

In Glasgow in 1888, Harriet Baxter saves Elspeth Gillespie from choking to death on the street. In a startling coincidence, Elspeth happens to have a son who is an up-and-coming painter in the Glasgow art scene, a man whom Harriet just happens to have met randomly at a gallery in London earlier in the year. She becomes close friends with Gillespie and his wife and family, but is she the charmer she makes herself out to be or the most unreliable narrator since Amy Dunne?

Harris creates a wonderful character in Harriet and then unravels her like an old sweater, brilliantly leaving the reader with no idea what has quite happened and no idea quite what is real. The writing is hypnotic; I was halfway done before bed last night and I was exhausted from a long day, yet I found myself turning the last page at midnight because I couldn’t bear to not know what happened next. The ending was spectacular and worth me being drowsy at work at the moment. Harris drops tiny little details and hints like the cufflink that Harriet claimed they never found, or how she’s refered to as “the whisky lady” at the shop and is affronted, but my god, how drunk was she all the time? And what about the “minor understanding – so minor it never came to court” from her New York days? that left me scratching my head and having a-ha! moments up until the very last line of the book. ”I clapped my hands together. ‘Anonymous? How thrilling!’” indeed! In the end, I have no idea what really happened to Rose or Sibyl or the maid or Ned or any of it, and I love it.

[Jill · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a deliciously addictive mystery! I urge anyone who picks this up to clear the docket for the next couple of days. Jane Harris’ narrator Harriet may set the standard for unreliable narrators and her “memoir” will have you on the edge of your seat.

Harriet Baxter comes across a little-known artist named Ned Gillespie. She is a woman of means, a “spinster” in her mid-30s, and footloose after nursing an old aunt who has just passed away. After a brief encounter with the artist, she chances upon him and his family – his wife, two young daughters, and elderly mother – on a visit to Glasgow.

Gradually, Harriet will form a strong relationship with this family and becomes an integral part of their individual lives. After certain events transpire, the questions become: can we trust Harriet’s version of the events? Are our fates foretold and are they inexorable (or as Harriet puts it, “Are all of us doomed to live out our destinies?”) What lengths do we go to get what we want?

I hesitate to say much more, since much of the power of the book comes from the unexpected turns of plot. Even the themes hint at what is to come. Suffice to say that this novel of obsession is laced with Victorian period details and strong character delineations and keeps the reader off guard in discovering what is true and what is not true. I almost envy anyone who is about to take this amazing ride for the first time!

[Diane S ☔ · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 Harris is a master at creating atmosphere, because I consider this book on par with the atmospheric Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights. Literally did not ant to put it down, though it was rather slow in the beginning I soon became consumed by the plot, the characterizations and the many twists and turns this novel took. At one point the author managed to totally shock me, which doesn't happen in very many novels, but this one took a twist I really didn't see coming. Glasgow and the exhibition in the late 1800's, the world of painting and the language used was splendid. This is a superb, psychological read and one that I really enjoyed.

[Dani · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was such a great read. It’s been a while since a book stayed with me for weeks after finishing the last page and this despite me not ‘loving’ the ending either. But I was firmly engrossed reading this and there was something truly haunting about this story without being in your face about it and I absolutely loved that about it. It literally crawled under my skin.
The story started off unassuming and light-hearted enough, but before long something about Harriet Baxter’s narrative felt off which peaked my interest and before I was halfway in, both the past and the present day story had me captivated.
And now... now that I’ve finished it, I’ve been thinking about how to review this book and ultimately, I decided that this is one of those cases where the less I tell you, the better it will be. I already told you too much, in fact. And there’s so much more about it I could and would like to say, but I realised the more I tell you about what I think I’ve read, the less is left for you to experience and wonder about for yourself. And as it happens I myself went in a little blind reading this novel (meaning I didn’t read any reviews beforehand), which is a truly rare thing for me to do but in hindsight I believe it was the best way - it gave me the best experience.
So the best advice I can give you is this. Don’t read any (more) reviews. Do you like its premise? Good. Can you appreciate a story that doesn’t spell everything out for you and that will unsettle and engage you before the end? Fine. That’s all you need to know. Go try this book. It’s beautifully crafted by a very talented writer and will turn out to be well worth your time. I promise.

[Fiona · Rating 3 out of 5]

It’s rarely with such relief that I press the ‘I’ve finished’ button. This isn’t a bad book, it’s just far too long. It’s narrated by Harriet Baxter, an Englishwoman who decides to come up to Glasgow for a while to enjoy the 1888 International Exhibition. Or did she come to Glasgow because she was enamoured with Ned Gillespie, an up and coming artist? We’re not led to suspect this until during the trial at the end of the book. It’s then that we start to doubt Harriet’s version of events and wonder if there could be some truth in the accusations levelled against her.

The story itself is reminiscent of that wonderful 1980s ITV series, Tales of the Unexpected. Roald Dahl would have dramatised this story perfectly in one 30 minute episode without losing any of the underlying menace.

2.5 stars. Just not for me. One quote will stay with me, however. Harris grew up in Glasgow so she was able to capture the ambience of a typical Glasgow close (apartment block hallway). The stairwell was clean, but the air was stuffy, and redolent of many gravies. Perfect!

[Teresa · Rating 5 out of 5]

2006 was an excellent year for me as I read two of the most memorable debut novels, The Observations by Jane Harris and The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. I’m not holding my breath re a new offering from Ms Setterfield but I can’t tell you how excited I was last year when I heard about Gillespie and I. I had to put myself out of my misery, buy the hardback tout de suite and dive straight in.

Well, I can assure you that if you were even remotely titivated by The Observations, then you will love Gillespie and I. Our narrator is 35 year old English woman, Harriet Baxter, who finds herself in Glasgow in 1888 for the International Exhibition. Following the death of her aunt for whom she was full-time carer, Harriet comes into a modest sum of money and decides to move temporarily from London to Glasgow for a change of scenery. The book takes the form of a memoir about her time in Glasgow which she writes in 1933, in London where she now lives on her own. attended by a series of carers, none of whom appear to stay very long in her employ. We are fed little crumbs of information along the way which let us know that her time in Scotland does not end happily and that her initially halcyon relationship with the Gillespie clan, in particular, with Ned, the artist, is doomed to disaster. However, as the narrative progresses, we realise that all is not what it seems and we might very well revise our initial impression of Harriet as a thoroughly objective observer.

I won’t spoil things by revealing anything more about the plot but suffice to say that Jane Harris has created a compelling, dark, psychological narrative which belies its benign facade. Harriet isn’t quite the cute, fluffy puppy she’d have you believe! The whole novel is a delight from start to finish, peopled with vivid, engaging characters from Ned’s interfering mother whose attempt at a posh accent results in Harriet being transformed into Herriet Bexter to Ned’s truculent eldest daughter, Sibyl. Indeed all of the characters have their very own, distinctive voices and all have their role to play in this dramatic tale. Such is the power of the writing that even a 160 page account of a trial continued to engage me and indeed I didn’t want it to end.

Gillespie and I is one of those rare books which will remain with me for a very long time. Its characters are extremely believable and although I’m not entirely sure if any of them are that likeable, you certainly won’t forget them in a hurry. It’s a carefully nuanced portrait of a family torn apart by tragedy yet it has its sublimely comic moments too – it’s been well worth the five year wait!

[Nancy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Even as I type, I don't know how to write this review. I think I will approach it as a book club book. I would strongly suggest that, if you are a book cheater (like myself), don't look ahead with this one. Don't look for spoilers. You know that moment in A Beautiful Mind when Russell Crow is challenged about his mental stability while his roommate sits in the corner and cries? I needed about 30 more seconds to process the scene before I came to the conclusion myself that his roommate wasn't real before my husband announced that tidbit to me.

I felt robbed of a moment.

Similarly, the twists in this book are unexpected and not crystallized. It is only after adding all of the pieces together that the reader will come to a different conclusion than s/he did two thirds of the way through the book. And it is only with some reservation at first. Then the cloudy clarifies and a disturbing picture emerges. The book is much more disturbing with the real life backdrop of Josh Powell and the horrific events of this week.

Book review ideas for discussion:

1. Note the times when the protagonist makes reference to pregnancy or breast feeding or any kind of incubation. Note the part of the wooden horse that is scorched. What attitude might Harriet have regarding motherhood or having children?

2. How would the reader describe the protagonist's relationship with her father? Are the feelings reciprocal? Any Freudian ideas?

3. Once the kidnapping occurred, which character(s) were suspicious both in the current time and in hindsight?

4. When was the AHA moment for you? Did it occur after or before the end of the book. Are you still waiting for it?

5. What was the significance of the birds? What of the cage?

I have typed the next question five times. Each time, it was a different question but I thought it gave too much away. I am trying my art of subtlety. I am not very good at it.

It is a very well written book that will leave the reader feeling unsettled and looking for earlier clues. They are there but very subtle. In hindsight, the explanations provided from the particular POV sort of made sense but became more and more frantic.

[Lotte · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.25/5

[Carol]

I invested a bit of time into this one. Was it worth it? Yes and no. Jane Harris is an excellent story-teller and the story is interesting. Like many here, I can’t tell much without a spoiler slipping by. I’m thinking his is a book that will gnaw at me, asking “what’s it all about?”, for some time. Did it need to be over 500 pages? I’m not certain. I liked some of the characters and wanted to throttle others. I liked the exploration of relationships, familial and otherwise; friendships, both male and female. Did I have all the answers at tale’s end? I don’t think so.

This is a book that will keep me thinking; one which I’ll have to go back and read reviews, perhaps listen to the author talk about her thoughts and motivation in writing the story. I’ll have to find a friend who’s read it to share the experience more fully. And I’ll also need to go back and listen Episode 16 of The Reader’s
Podcast and send out my thanks to Simon Savidge who brought the book to my attention in the first place.

You may have noticed I have not given Gillespie & I any stars. I really can’t decide. I need to think about it more and stars in this case are just not cutting it. Suffice it to say, I liked it.

[Cheryl · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good story, but editing out 100 pages would've made it a better book. (The pace was a bit slow, even in the courtroom scenes.) What does the author want us to think of Harriet? Is she an unreliable narrator, or just a woman traumatized by certain events in her past? I still don't know. The book could've been written in a more compelling way than it was.

[Marisolera · Rating 3 out of 5]

Entretenido, aunque a ratos un poco pesado. La parte de la historia actual me sobra bastante y de hecho el final me ha dejado fría, no sé muy bien qué es lo que pasa al final. En cambio la historia de la relación entre Harriet y los Gillespie sí me ha gustado.

[Leah · Rating 4 out of 5]

A masterclass in ambiguity…

Elderly Harriet Baxter sits in her London home, thinking back to when she was a young woman, visiting Glasgow for the International Exhibition of 1888. There, she fell in with the Gillespie family, and became involved in an incident that was to impact both her and them for the rest of their lives. She slowly tells the reader the tale…

Slowly being the operative word. If this book had been half its length it would have been wonderful. Instead, it crawls along at a toe-curlingly slow pace, with every moment of every day described in excessive detail. I was listening to the audiobook, which had the unfortunate effect that I couldn’t skim read as I think I tend to do when reading over-detailed print books. With audio, each word is given equal weight and this, for me, really highlights when an author has fallen self-indulgently in love with her own creation and has forgotten that the poor reader might prefer the story to move along at a speed slightly above the glacial. There! That’s my complaint over, so now on to the good points, of which there are many.

Harriet is a wonderful narrator, unreliable in the extreme, not terribly likeable, but compellingly ambiguous. Although it takes a long time to get there, we learn from foreshadowing that at some point there will be a trial in the story, although we don’t know who will be tried or for what, or whether whoever it is will be found guilty. But we do know that the outcome of the trial left Harriet notorious, and that she is now telling her version of events as a counter to a book which has come out making her out to be some kind of villainous monster.

Ned is a young painter, scraping a living out of his art but yet to really make his name. Harris has set her book at the time of the “Glasgow School” – a period when Glasgow was for a few decades a major artistic hub in the fields of painting and architecture particularly. Ned and his fellow artists are not in the first rank of this movement – rather they are shown as a kind of wider, secondary grouping inspired by the artistic buzz around the city. Harris doesn’t go into the art of the period in any detail, but uses it to provide a very authentic background to her group of artists and hangers-on, and Ned’s work is clearly influenced by the realism that was a feature of the real painters of the movement.

Harriet, although she would never admit it, is clearly obsessed by Ned, and jealous of Annie and their children for taking up so much of his time and attention. Harriet would claim that it’s Ned’s work that interests her – her belief that he has the talent to become one of the major artists of his day, with a little help from an altruistic friend. The reader suspects her feelings towards him might be little less lofty – a little more earthy, in fact. She soon becomes an intimate friend of the family, though one suspects that the family may be less thrilled by this than Harriet is.

Harriet’s voice is excellent, and Anna Bentinck’s first-rate performance does the character full justice (along with all the other characters, to whom she gives a myriad of authentic-sounding Scottish accents). As a single lady past the first flush of youth in the Victorian era, Harriet is of course outwardly prim and proper, but her inward thoughts allow us to know her mind is not quite as pure as a young lady’s should be! She is often very funny, usually unintentionally, and Harris is fabulous at letting the reader read between the lines of the picture of innocent kindliness Harriet is trying to paint of herself. The other characters are all presented through Harriet’s biased eyes, so that we can’t be sure if poor Annie is as ineffective a mother as we see, or if Sybil, the eldest child, is really as monstrously badly behaved as she seems. We can’t even be sure if Ned has any real talent. What we do know for certain is that Harriet is lonely and alone, and desperately seeking some kind of human relationship that will allow her to feel she has a place in the world. This means that even when she’s at her most manipulative, we can’t help having some level of sympathy for her circumstances. It’s all a masterclass in ambiguity, and even by the end I couldn’t decide if I loved Harriet or hated her, wanted to give her a comforting hug or throw stones at her. I’m very, very glad she’s not my (mythical) husband’s friend though…

When the story proper finally begins, well into the book, it becomes quite dark. Up to that point, Harriet has been at worst a little pitiable – a woman repressed by her society who is desperately seeking some way to validate her existence, even if only to herself. From there on (and I’m deliberately being vague to avoid spoilers) the reader has to decide if she is a monster or a victim. The beauty of the way Harris plays it is that it’s quite possible to believe she is both. Older Harriet, whose story we learn in short segments throughout the book, is a rather heart-breaking picture of the loneliness of a spinster, somewhat shunned by the world partly because of her notoriety but also simply because of her age.

So a wonderful portrait of an ambiguous character set against an authentic background of the Glasgow art movement – had it not been for the truly excessive, even though well written, padding, this would undoubtedly have been a five star read. As it is, four stars, and a plea for editors to take a stronger line with authors who fall too much in love with their own wordsmithery.

www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com

[Nisha Joshi (swamped, will review whenever possible) · Rating 5 out of 5]

I rarely read paperbacks nowadays, having completely switched to reading from the Kindle for convenience. But when my father got me this book (along with a few others which I will be reading soon), I remembered how I had picked Gillespie and I at a book sale without a clear idea about what it was about. This was before the time of good internet and maybe there was no Goodreads to check the ratings (which is what I do now). For some reason, I never got around to reading it then. Probably I was working 80+ hour weeks then and reading a 600+ page book might not have been my highest priority.

So, with these fond ideas in mind, I started reading the book some days back.

It is 1887-88. After the death of a relative she had been nursing, Harriet Baxter is at a free end to travel the world. She decides to go to Glasgow to explore the Great International Exhibition.

In Glasgow, she stumbles upon the Gillespie family quite by accident. Soon, due to a number of circumstances, she becomes close to the whole family. They are an assorted lot. Ned Gillespie is an upcoming talented artist. Annie, his wife, is a budding artist herself. Sybil and Rose are their children aged 7 and 4. Kenneth Gillespie is Ned's brother, Mabel is his sister. Elspeth, who lives across the street, is Ned's mother.

As the days go by, the Exhibition proceeds and their friendship develops. Like any family, there might be a few cracks in the Gillespie family too. But are these cracks wide enough to break the family apart completely?

For one, there is Sybil's deteriorating behaviour. Nobody seems to be able to understand or control her. Then, there is the overbearing Elspeth who doesn't seem to share a happy equation with Annie. Or Mabel, who cannot seem to leave her brother's side. And Kenneth, who might have a dark secret.

In 1933, Harriet attempts to write the story of her relationship with the Gillespies. It is through this story that, in layers, we come across the quirks of each Gillespie. Harriet is now in her 80s, though in quite good health. She has two finches in a birdcage that go by the names of Layla and Majnum. Sarah is her attendant and companion. In between chapters about the Gillespies, we see Harriet and Sarah interact and watch as Harriet increasingly begins to suspect that Sarah might not be who she says she is.

The book continues in this vein until about halfway point after which it takes a sharp turn. A horrific event occurs that throws the Gillespies into the limelight and Harriet Baxter gets pulled along in the slipstream.

I have to say that I hadn't come across a narrator like Harriet Baxter yet. She is the queen of backhanded compliments. She doesn't have a great opinion of other artists, women, rambunctious children, the police, and the legal system of Scotland. She doesn't mince words while describing them.

In her hands, this story read in a pretty straightforward way. She meets the Gillespies, befriends them, and stays with them as a series of misfortunes befall them. Yet, as the story proceeded, I began to have my doubts. Was she as innocent as she claimed she was? Was she truly a victim of the circumstances? Was every explanation she gave true? And, the biggest of all, did she believe what she said?

I have come across various 'protagonists' who believe what they do is ultimately right (Joe Goldberg, looking at you), but Harriet Baxter is of a different league altogether. The open ending did nothing to calm my anxiety about her. But, man, what a book! It was a rollercoaster.

Though it was a 600 pager, I read it in about a week (which is a very rare occurrence with me - I take around 4-5 days to read a 250-page book). I simply couldn't put it down, keeping my nose buried in it late at night until my husband would switch off the light, forcing me to put it down (which is why I prefer my Kindle - you can read under the blanket without a torch and nobody is any wiser).

Anyway, so here I am with as many questions in my mind as I have answers. I am intrigued by Harriet and by the author who managed to create such an unforgettable character. The ending threw me completely and now I don't know what even to think.

I feel my review has become too lengthy. But for a tome as this, I feel this is quite befitting.

4.75 stars (0.25 stars cut because of the length - maybe a 100 pages or so lesser would have done well).

[Beth Diiorio · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gillespie and I is Jane Harris' second novel to receive both public and critical acclaim. It is beautifully written in a dignified Victorian manner, which initially disguises the undercurrents of the psychology of the main characters. Another element which took me by surprise (and which I very much appreciated) was the main character's quick-witted sense of humor. It is 1933 in London, England and Harriet Baxter, an elderly English woman living a polite, responsible, and intelligent life with her two pet finches, sets out to write a memoir about her friendship with Artist Ned Gillespie and his family.

Back in 1888, after the death of her aunt whom she cared for and lived with, Harriet arrives in Glasgow, Scotland to attend the International Exhibition. While in Glasgow, she encounters Ned Gillespie, an artist whose work is being featured, and then through serendipity, meets his wife and mother. Harriet and the Gillespies become good friends, mostly due to her desire for a sense of place and purpose. Harriet Baxter derives fulfillment from being an integral part of the lives of Ned, his wife Annie, and their two daughters Rose and Sibyl (yes, the name should give you a hint about character traits).

After a family tragedy occurs, the story spirals into issues of trust, perception, emotional need, fixation, and the foibles of humans, to the extent that myself as the reader began questioning the characters whom I thought I'd come to know. Isn't it funny how as readers we become so absorbed and attached to characters in a book, as if they were real people in our lives? Now, I not only want to read Jane Harris' first book, The Observations, but I also want to get pet finches.

Favorite Quotes:
"Admittedly, one had to be careful: gazing neither left nor right, and never (Heaven forfend!) looking any man gentle or otherwise, in the eye."

"Another man passed by, calling out to them: 'How was the day, lads?', and one of their number spat into the gutter before replying, impassively: 'Mondayish.' "

"Her little room was in darkness, but the glowing candle made the condensation on the skylight window glitter like molten gold. Outside, all was unnaturally dark, as though a blanket had been thrown across the roof - a blanket of fog."

[Harriet responding to a chauvinistic idiot] - "Sadly, no! What with all my novels and gossip and crochet, there's no time left over for ferns."

[Spoken by judge to attorney] "Save your breath to cool your porridge, Mr. Caskie."

"Regrettably, it was impossible to ignore that By The Pond [a painting] had been terribly badly hung, in the worst spot in all the Fine Art Section: an ill-lit, lofty position, above a doorway, at the eastern end of the British Sale Room, and at unfortunate proximity to an oft-blocked and malodorous drain. This situation gave rise to much hilarity on the part of visitors, who were wont to hasten beneath Ned's painting whilst wafting their hands in front of their faces and uttering various ribald comments...The general consensus was that the pond in question must have been a 'right stinky stank' (stank being a Scots word for a pool of stagnant water or drain)."

"The colors of this picture were particularly striking against the scarlet damask of the wall. The painting depicted an elegant lady in a black frock. She was standing in what appeared to be an attic room, an easel in the background the only suggestion that this loft belonged to an artist. A shaft of light fell from a skylight window, illuminating the woman's figure. Her hat was trimmed with a short, diaphanous veil. In one hand, she held a little bag of seed, which she was feeding to a canary in a cage. Although she seemed to be a guest in the house, one formed the impression - simply from the way that she fed the bird - that she was a frequent visitor. The expression on her face was intriguing: she looked so placid and content, lost in thought, perhaps - even - in love."

[Nick · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a skilfully executed and compelling novel in which the narrator is not just unreliable, but utterly delusional, from the first page to the last. The only problem is that she is also utterly unlikeable, leaving you admiring the author's skill in keeping you gripped, but feeling slightly tainted by your proximity to a protagonist who not only feels no remorse, but seems unable even to acknowledge to herself what she has done.

For I never had a shred of sympathy for Harriet Baxter, from the beginning of the book to the end. From very early on, I just knew there was something wrong about her. Jane Harris creates a voice for the character which is quite formal, quite proper, full of the correct sentiments and yet somehow curiously lacking in human warmth. I think it was this, as well as the gaping chasm that opens up between Harriet's account of events and what seems to be the truth, that made Gillespie and I such an odd and disorientating read. I can think of plenty of other books with unreliable or even duplicitous narrators (Remains of the Day and Gone Girl spring to mind) but their central characters drew me into their crazy little worlds much more than Harriet did.

The author's decision to set the book in late nineteenth century Glasgow is an interesting one: the period detail is convincing, but there seems little reason to choose this time and place except for Jane Harris's obvious affinity with it. It is a story that could have been set almost anywhere and at any time.

At just over 500 pages, this is a substantial read and I did wonder whether it really needed to be this long to do what it did. Some of the details, for example around Ned's paintings and rivalries with other artists, seem over-fussy, but perhaps they are there to misdirect you and make you think the book is really about something else. The courtroom drama felt particularly over-stretched. Morally, we should want to see Harriet convicted and punished, but the power of the narrator is so strong that it neutralises that urge. Speaking for myself, I had a strong interest in seeing how the trial unfolded, but no emotional investment in its outcome.

Where Harris really excels - and she is an exceptionally subtle and clever author - is in getting Harriet to reveal herself unconsciously to the reader: sometimes by denying something that we realise is in fact the case, sometimes by leaving something out in such a way that we notice its absence, and sometimes through reporting other characters' reactions whose significance Harriet seems to miss. Kazuo Ishiguro is perhaps the master of this, and while this book doesn't approach the sophistication or emotional resonance of Remains of the Day, it is also splendidly effective in creating a first-person account that amounts to an unintentionally accurate self-portrait.

The trouble is, in Harriet's case, that self-portrait is so consistently unappealing that I was left wondering what I had really gained from perusing it so intently. Rather in the same way that Harriet scrutinises the dead finch or her own stool near the end of the book, there is a fascination there, but not one that enriches the spirit.

[Mark · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a wonderful read. Dark, witty, tense, creepy and enthralling.

Gillespie and I is set in turn-of-the-century Glasgow. The story follows a woman called Harriet Baxter and her friendship with the family of an artist she admires, Ned Gillespie.

As Harriet gets to know the family, she shares in their ups and downs, including a tragedy that defines the lives of all involved.

Other than that, as others mention in reviews, there's nothing else I can say without spoiling things!

Harris beautifully sketches the Gillespie family life and paints a vibrant picture of my home city Glasgow. But the greatest triumph of the book is Harriet herself, a memorable narrator with a brilliant cutting wit who tells the story in a way that only she can...

There were moments in this book when I laughed out loud ("I am a prawn") but I was also hugely surprised to find myself creeped out by the book at points. I read a lot of horror and mostly it doesn't scare me at all; Gillespie and I has no individual scene which could be described as scary but as the book progresses there is an undertone which is undeniably...malign.

I must admit to being slightly unsatisfied with the ending, which leaves things up to the reader to interpret. But that's just me and my slight need for being spoon-fed answers!

Gillespie and I was that rare thing - a book I wanted to re-read immediately. I will be seeking out another Jane Harris book as soon as possible. Highly recommended.