Book Review: Summer, by Ali Smith (2020)
Summer has come and gone, and I’ve completed the seasonal set. Actually, it’s now early March, winter is blowing out, and I was referring to the literary rather than literal summer. I’m not too sure of the significance of each title to the story the respective books contain, there is a loose grounding of each narrative to the season they are tagged to, and the descriptional stuff plays on the nominated time of year for each novel, which is nice, but overall the book titles seem a bit arbitrary. That’s unless I’m missing something, which I most probably am. There must be something in having gone full cycle, so to speak; an end and beginning again, continuation. I’m aware that there’s a lot in these works by Ali Smith that I probably didn’t get, or haven’t got yet. Each book’s links to plays by Shakespeare, for example, is something I’ve read about, but am likely never to fully appreciate. As I’ve said before, I already look forward to rereading these books, discovering things I ...