I thank Rosie Croft from Pen & Sword for providing me an early paperback copy of this book, which I freely chose to review.

I worked in Sheffield and lived in the area for almost 10 years and had visited it on occasions as well before that, and although it was long after the 1980s (I arrived in the UK in the early 90s), I was familiar with Martin Jenkinson’s work, had seen some of his iconic photographs of the period, and could not resist the opportunity to sample some more. This was a particularly interesting and intense period in the history of the city, with the closures of many steel and cutlery manufacturing companies, the pit closures in the region, and with many strikes and much social unrest, that Jenkinson recorded in his work. It is impossible to look at his pictures and not wonder about recent events.

This book combines a great selection of images from the period with some background text, that rather than providing lengthy explanations about each image, is organised as an introductory write-up for each one of the sections. Although there isn’t much writing, the brief summaries offer a good overview to people who might not be familiar with the historic-social circumstances of the era and provide a solid context for the fantastic images.

The book is clearly a labour of love from Jenkinson’s daughter, and it includes a foreword by Helen Hague, a reporter who has worked at a number of local and national newspapers and was a personal friend of the photographer, a Tribute, written by Chris Searle, summarising Jenkinson’s career, and a number of sections that help organise the photographic content: Who We Are Exhibition (that was an exhibition at Sheffield’s  Weston Park Museum of Jenkinson’s work, which run from November 2018 to April 2019), Steel (that includes images of strikes, a section on cutlery and silver, one on retail and the public section [including images of women taking up various jobs  that were still an uncommon sight at the time], one on rail freight), Local Government (National and Local Government Officer’s Association [look out for David Blankett], SYCC and fare cuts [about increases to the public transport fares, hotly contested], the Manpower Services Commission [a new programme to fight unemployment, also hotly contested], Campaigns and Protests (People’s March for Jobs, Cutler’s Feast [where Margaret Thatcher was not particularly welcomed, but she went nonetheless], The Miner’s Strike [this is one of my favourite sections and many of Jenkinson’s iconic photographs are featured here], Eversure [a wonderful picture of a wedding couple visiting a picket at the factory where they both work],  the National Abortion Campaign, Sheffield Campaign for Access to Moorland, Sheffield Campaign Against Racism and Anti-Apartheid, Anti-Nuclear Protests, Sheffield Street Band), Sheffield & Its People (another great section including some pictures of Hillsborough Football Stadium that are impossible to look at without thinking about the later tragedy), a section referring to The Martin Jenkinson Image Library, and a final section of Acknowledgements.

This is not a nostalgic book about the Sheffield of the 1980s, although there are pictures of some very recognisable landmarks, but rather a book about certain aspects of the period and its people, and they show the concerns and interests of a man who had worked in the steel industry and suffered in his own flesh the changes brought by its demise. It’s not a book of pretty pictures, although there are some beautiful images, but that is not the aim. They are pictures that tell a story, and not always a nice one. As Helen Hague says in the foreword: ‘Martin Jenkinson had a gift for capturing the moment.’

The book is packed with black and white pictures chronicling a city and its people in an era of major political, social, and economic changes, and anybody interested in the 1980s in the UK will find plenty to enjoy and to make them think in this book. I know many writers find inspiration in images, and here they will have a field day. In case you want to get an idea of what type of images you might find in the book, you can check the Martin Jenkinson Image Library(here).

A fabulous book for lovers of photography with a social conscience, and for anybody interested in the recent history of Sheffield and of the UK in general.

A documentry Force of Nature Natalia is produced by Justine Waddell, showing Osipova in rehearsal for classical roles at The Royal Ballet. More information available at https://bit.ly/2Xb7lym

It was all that I hoped for.

Over the course of this series within a series, possibly due to giving us the POV of *this* H, we finally get an inside look at what it means to be coalition. And...we get a view of an officer slowly coming to grips with how things are on the outside. So now it's his turn.

Caze Paledan was assigned here to recuperate. Of course, the injury in question isn't one you really recuperate from as a land mine left him with a piece of shrapnel in his spine. Fairly early on, he makes a sudden move which causes it to shift. Since he's meeting with the Raider in an attempt to convince him to back off, he's rescued...and...healed...by the enemy.

As he recuperates - for real this time - he interacts with the Raider's mom quite a bit. They take him back after he's fully healed and he, being the sort he is (not really a good Coalition soldier as he uses his brain), looks into things she'd suggested. Something happens as a result of this and he makes a decision. Well, not much of a decision really since the alternative is execution.

If I had to describe him, he's sort of like one of the Arrows (psy-changeling) in that he's had most all emotions squashed. So in a huge way, this is his coming out of a shell. That awakening is something I find fascinating.

The h is the mother of the H in Raider. The previous books have seen her kids coming to terms with her survival and not telling them of it - she tried to kill herself some 11 years prior. That's...a lot of baggage. She's a healer and a seer, the latter part being one of the reasons she tried to kill herself as the visions for her son hot on the heels of her mate's being killed by the coalition drove her to despair. She tries not to feel sorry for herself though. If anything, she's as fascinated by the H as he of her (he has a painting of her in storage and has been mildly obsessed with it)

I'm mildly curious to see if there will be others in the series.

Let's face it, I read this for the H and the story arc...well and the next H. The h...

The h is the quintessential disney princess - a spoiled child in a woman suit. When the book starts, she's still not 18, is resentful that big brother kept his secret identity from her (but unwilling to lash out at him as a) he gave himself up to save her and b) he almost died as a resut), resentful that her best friend also hid what was going on, resentful that mommy dearest has showed up alive and well (can understand that one), resentful that the guy she crushed on for years was also leading a double life and hid it from her. She feels free to be a royal bitch to him. I mean; at least she's no longer being a royal bitch to her brother but... it's hard to get past her angsty young adult status to care about her feelings. Her world is at war here and she's bellyaching that she can't fight - because she's not technically an adult yet. There seems to never be a point where she accepts that had she not been so openly and obnoxiously resentful, that she might not have attracted the attention of the psychopath who nearly killed her brother.

Fortunately, there are others who get page time, like the commander of the coalition. His story is next, so I guess it's not really spoilery to say that much of his page time touches on his ambivalence to what needs to be done in order to squash the rebellion. And at the end, he's faced with the reality that he has no choice now.

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A fairly good story about Lya, a young woman who’s been left a paraplegic after a hit-and-run when she was 17. Four years have passed, and she’s as decided as ever to find out what really happened: the person who hit her left her for dead and never alerted anyone, which meant she was discovered only hours later… a few hours that made all the difference between her getting her ability to walk back and remaining in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. So, her investigation and her motives are definitely understandable, and something that made me root for her.

I found the drawing style really beautiful, all in softness and subtlety (the black/dark line-art that’s very typical of comics is absent here), while also deftly making use of different colour palettes depending on the atmosphere it depicts, especially reds and blues.

The characters, in general, are engaging, even though they’re not necessarily very deep: Lya is brave and determined (not only to discover the truth, but also simply to live her life without letting her disability get in the way). Her best friend, Antoine, supports her all the way in both these endeavours, and helps her as best as he can. Adèle, the receptionist, is a bubbly young woman who immediately helps Lya get her marks at the practice. De Villegan, the lawyer, is antipathic and yells at his own intern, and looks like the perfect villain. There is room for more surprises in that regard, but their roles are quickly and easily defined, with the clichés this implies.

The investigation itself is not complex, as mostly what Lya needs it to read a file kept at the practice, but the story doesn’t shy away from limitations that an able-bodied person wouldn’t mean: the archives are only accessible by stairs, and so Lya has to be creative as to how she’s going to access them—getting discouraged and giving up is never an option for her. The downside for me was that while she encountered setbacks, I thought they were (too) easily circumvented, so there wasn’t so much tension to speak of here.

This first volume ends on a strong cliffhanger, and I guess this will be a make-it-or-break-it-deal for more than one person. This said, I did find it quite appropriate: if you’re going to have a cliffhanger, might as well have this one (and not one based on something else in the story).

Conclusion: 3 stars because all in all, I liked the story and the art, and want to read volume 2, but the pacing and tension could’ve been handled better.