Each chapter related to a different graveyard/tradition/piece of folklore and I found some to be much more interesting than others.

I find this such a fascinating topic but unfortunately, not all of the chapters caught my interest. I found a few to be quite a slog to get through which spoiled the reading experience for me, hence why I am giving it a middle-of-the-road three stars.

I wanted to love this book, but I found the writing to be SO boring. I'm not entirely sure how the author managed to make such an interesting topic dull, but he really did! I was tempted to stop reading at several points but kept going so I could read the chapter about Arnos Vale graveyard in Bristol. I probably shouldn't have bothered.

Unfortunately I DNF this book. The blurb sounded really interesting and exactly like something I would enjoy reading. Sadly I just couldn’t get on with the writing style, I found it didn’t seem to flow at all

Peter Ross visits cemeteries, graveyards, churches, chapels and crypts and demonstrates how, far from being creepy scenes of death, they are teeming with life and stories.

We learn about changing attitudes to death, the rituals surrounding burial, and ideas of the afterlife,

I enjoyed the way historical detail and personal anecdotes flowed from Ross's interactions with custodians, volunteers, and relatives of those resting in these sites.

A book that encourages curiosity and acceptance rather than fear.

I loved this aburd, morbid, fascinating little book. I've always enjoyed visiting graveyards, glimpsing lost lives on the tombstones, and enjoying the quiet restfulness of those places. I didn't appreciate how much history lay unwritten about, until now.

I love Peter Ross's writing - he always treats his subjects with kindness and curiosity, and in A Tomb With a View, he demonstrates that he extends that curtesy to the dead as well as the living. Packed with interesting info and anecdote, you don't have to be particularly keen on graveyards to find this a fascinating and worthwhile read.

Peter Ross traces remarkable lives as well as forgotten ones, and as always with Peter’s journalism, personal stories at the heart of what he writes about.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect from this book, given the light-hearted title, but I have been very pleasantly surprised by both the wide-ranging exploration of the topic and the sensitivity which which certain aspects of dealing with the deceased were discussed. There is much to learn about how we commemorate the dead, from the rare English charnel-house to the work of the War Graves Commission, via the heartbreaking unmarked graves of unbaptised babies in Ireland, the once- magnificent and crumbling Victorian cemeteries, and the individuals who look after all these places.
Given the still prevalent unease around talking about death, this book is illuminating in many ways as the author talks to funeral directors both traditional and those with alternative approaches to funerals and commemoration, giving much food for thought. There are occasional touches of humour too, though not too much to detract from what is essentially a sobering subject, and the obvious affection of the author for the topic makes this fascinating read.

I think it's safe, by this point in the year, to start thinking about my favourite books of 2020- after all, we have to have something good right? This book will definitely be in that list.

The first review book since I re-launched the blog, I was extremely pleased to nab a copy. I've always had an affinity with graveyards; where I grew up there were two graveyards sandwiching the road where I grew up. One of them, Holbeck Cemetery (confusingly actually in Beeston) even has a poem written about it. I was never really scared of them and spent many, many hours as a kid playing in them. The graveyard where my grandad is buried in Halifax- a much grander affair than the little ones I played in- is beautiful and fascinating. Benn and I spent a happy morning on honeymoon exploring Pere Lachaise in Paris. Graveyards are in my DNA, I think.

They're in Peter Ross' too. This is a labour of utter love and it shows; we travel from the furthest reaches of Scotland to the grandest London cemeteries with their ancient trees and showy tombs, via eco-funerals, Islamic burials and the resting place of both sides of the Irish struggle (interestingly, my own republican great-grandfather now lies in the same Yorkshire cemetery as his son-in-law). This is an exploration of the way of death in the British Isles and it's a moving picture of how we deal with this topic now in a time when it's almost taboo, as well as how our ancestors dealt with death in a time when it was more present.

For me, the most moving stories were those of the outsiders, the people who don't have huge tombs designed by eminent Pre-Raphaelites in graveyards used as the backdrops for Hollywood blockbusters, but those who had no family: the supposed witch, the Wild Boy, the poor who ended up resting in a London cemetery for the poor and outcast. These are the stories of my own ancestors and the ones where a grave is sometimes the only story these people have.

This is a book about rituals, but also about hope and renewal, about how we mark history as well as looking forward. After all, we're only here for a short time, but our stories will outlive us. At least for a bit, anyway. Hopefully we'll have someone like Peter Ross to tell them.

Love the title and I loved this book. I chose it because I found the title intriguing and because graveyards and tombs have a strange sense of wonder and fascination for many people.
As a child, we would take a shortcut to the shops via the churchyard and I was always told in no uncertain terms not to tread on the graves. I would look at the names, and wonder if those beneath would think kindly or come to find me!

Peter Ross deals with the emotional and practical side of memorials, death, remembrance and causes with sensitivity and care, alongside excellent research. He touches on his own personal reasons only once, and this is enough to understand why he has this interest, and why he is drawn to visiting graveyards and places where those who have passed are remembered.

I particularly found the war graves chapter very touching, and well written, along with the chapter on the woodland/meadow burials.

Since reading this I have taken detours on my afternoon dog walks, walking through the village churchyard, a 13th Century church which has 4 Commonwealth war graves from the First World War and one from the Second. My daughter and I felt it was okay to look, to read the inscriptions, having before felt this rather intrusive. We found families, children, people from the 1700s who we were surprised to find had lived to their late 70's. It's extremely interesting.

This book has opened up the social history that can be found, it's not just a place where the dead lay under the soil.

With the loss of both my parents, I can see that by visiting these places of memorial we keep those who have passed with us, and we hear their story. That's not macabre, that's positive and hopeful.
This book opened up this thought process fo me, and I am very grateful that I was given the opportunity to review it. It's an excellent book, and I thoroughly recommend it.

I really liked this book. I loved all the snippets of past lives and who the people in the graves were and the graveyards they eventually ended up in. This wasn’t just a book on graves and graveyards this was a tour on the sociological and cultural beliefs in England,Scotland, Ireland and wales and how over time graveyards have had to change and adapt to new ways of surviving in a world that is increasingly getting smaller for land. This was also a wonderful walk down memory lane when I was a child I too was fascinated by reading tombstones and imagining who?and what?the people were. I did have some issues with certain view points of the author and the part with him viewing and commenting on Islamic practises I felt was a bit morbid and intrusive on what goes on. I felt there was a lack of respect. But some parts were informative too.

The Graveyard Shift.....
Interesting tales from the graveyards told in well written, compassionate and often delightful prose. All manner of tales unfold as the book progresses, finely recounted and empathetic. Structure content a little choppy in places but overall a fascinating read.

I would give this 2.5 stars - it lies somewhere between 2 and 3 for me.
Peter Ross' journey through the graveyards and cemeteries of Britain, as documented in this book, definitely led to some fascinating stories, both about the living and the dead. I enjoyed the moments where the author takes us back in time to understand how these cemeteries developed, but also to see the lives that shaped such places, and were in turn shaped by them.
There are moments that feel like they have somewhat lost their way; for example, the section on the Troubles - though interesting, the writing felt slightly biased, and the opinions of the author felt forced into an irrelevant narrative. These moments lend themselves to an overall feeling of unease - there doesn't seem to be a strong sense of structure. But, perhaps this is reminiscent of the chaos that is attributed to the cramped and unplanned nature of many of the cemeteries Ross mentions.
Overall I enjoyed this book, given that graveyards are not something I know much about or am particularly passionate about - if such topics are your thing I think this would be an interesting read.

I am a huge fan of Peter Ross’s work and of his writing in particular. He is a writer who loves to seek out human stories, especially those that are warm and full of life and hope. He has always struck me as a journalist whose interest is in finding thre joy in life. A Tomb with a View is a perfect illustration of that. It is beautifully written, full of humanity and his great stories are told with understated flair.

Peter Ross spent some considerable time travelling across Britain and Ireland wandering round graveyards, talking to those who visit them, those who work in them, going on tours and gathering stories as he went.

In his introduction, Ross talks movingly about the book in the context of the Covid pandemic. Not just of lives lost, but of graveyards as a place of solace and a place to retreat to when parks became so crowded as to mitigate against social distancing. He tells us ‘ The coronavirus outbreak intensified this feeling I have that we are always in the company of the dead; that the outstretched palm is only a handspan away’. Ross is naturally empathetic. Here you will not find the hard edge of the journalist, humanity hidden under a veneer of cynicism. His curiosity and interest in people shines through; you feel he really does want to know as much as is possible about the lives of the people who are buried in our cemeteries and what befell them. And such stories there are a plenty! From the women from Wigtown who were tied to stakes and drowned for refusing to give up their Protestant faith to Hannah Twinnoy, who lies in a grave in Malmesbury Abbey and who became the first person in England to be killed by a tiger.

He spends time with Sheldon Goodman, the founder of Cemetery Club, which offers tours of London’s burial grounds, including one, Queerly Departed, a tour of Brompton Cemetery exploring the history of gay and lesbian Londoners buried there.

But what really interests Ross are the small stories, tales he says, that are everywhere ‘lying beneath the moss and leaves’. Tales like Douglas Crosby of Dundrennan, who died aged 7, it is said of a broken heart. A remarkable story that, whether true or not, still lingers.

Saddest, I found, are the forgotten graves. Those in York, on a patch of grass between two busy roads which house cholera victims from an outbreak in 1832, or the ‘Navvies’ Graveyard which marks the graves of 37 unnamed Irish workers who died of typhus in 1847 while building the Caledonian Railway.

There are touching stories too, a love story of a couple who lived for 80 years and had 12 children and who died within hours of each other; one could not exist without the other.

So many stories, from Muslim burials by Britain’s oldest firm of Muslim funeral directors to grand monuments, from Whitby Goths to tiny unmarked graves; each has a story and Ross accords each with the same degree of care and interest. There’s humour and there is also profound sadness.

You will not easily pass by the forgotten graves of unbaptised children in Ireland; graves which had to be dug by their parents because the church would have nothing to do with them. Ross also speaks to Mohamed Omer of the hugely difficult task he had of dealing with the profound bereavement of relatives of the Grenfell fire – a bereavement made so much more difficult because the bodies could not be buried for some considerable time. The pain of such deaths hangs heavy in the air.

Don’t though, take the impression that this is a gloomy or depressing book. It is quite the contrary. It is very much a celebration of the lives it contains. An appreciation of lives lived and of the stories within them and a tribute to those whose business is dealing with the dead.

Ross’s journey takes him to all manner of places, but perhaps the one that speaks to us today is the most contemporary. Sharpham Meadow is a natural burial ground by Totnes in Devon. A secular place, with slate stones for markers, it is a place of calm and beauty where the bodies of those gone are put into the earth to become part of it. Bridget has buried Wayne there and often visits to chat to him. Ross’s conversation with Wyne’s funeral arrangers is fascinating. The Green Funeral Company offers an alternative path to the traditional funeral directors; one that urges creativity and is elemental in approach. It spoke to me of a way of doing things that felt less rigid and pompous and was for the living as much as the dead.

Verdict: There are so many stories in this book, it is one I will be dipping in and out of for some time. Beautiful prose, and fascinating stories told with compassion and genuine interest. Ultimately, this is a warm and thoughtful book, both intimate and poignant, that stays with you. In the midst of death, Peter Ross bring light and life to a subject that we should all talk more about.

This book is not what I thought it would be. I stopped reading when the author started writing about the history of the troubles in Northern Ireland. I did not request this book to read what in my opinion is a very biased view of events. I requested this book as I was interested in finding out about the graveyards mentioned.

Thank you to Netgalley for my copy.

A Tomb With A View:
The Stories and Glories of Graveyards

By Peter Ross

Published by Headline on 3 September 2020

I love graveyards and churchyards and have done ever since I can remember. I always stop and visit whenever I can, and I am lucky to live five minutes away from a beautiful Norman foundation stone-built church, with a very full churchyard. All of life and death is there, from deaths in infancy to deaths in extreme old age, deaths from accidents, illness, tragedy or war, and the same is true for most burial places.

Peter Ross has produced an absorbing book based on his own extensive experiences of visiting burial places across Britain and Ireland, telling the stories of those buried there, those who study them, those who continue to visit the graveyards and why they do so. I found huge amounts in these pages to interest me.

One would think there is a certain equality in death, but that is definitely not the case. The poor were usually buried without memorials or only very modest ones, whereas the rich could afford opulent, exotic and extremely costly burials in prestigious London cemeteries with equally expensive memorials erected in due course.

Whether your interests lie in the Goth culture at Whitby, Commonwealth War Grave Commission's invaluable work, burials in tiny parish churches, town cemeteries or huge war cemeteries, the burials of the famous and the infamous, the barely-remembered or the never to be forgotten characters of history or stardom, the odds are that Peter Ross has already thought of it and covered it in this remarkable book.

I particularly liked the story of the gentleman who practised his bagpipes in his local graveyard as there was nowhere else suitable to go during the Coronavirus lock-down, but found myself perturbed by those who thought practising golf in a graveyard was acceptable, safe or in any way a good idea. The Rothwell Charnel Chapel was one of my favourites, as was the section about Arnos Vale cemetery in Bristol, where couples choose to get married in the chapel.....
Fascinating stuff!

If, like me, you are keen on poking around graveyards as a hobby - this book is absolute gold. I've just finished reading this and adored it.
I've read several books about this kind of thing before and I was worried I might just be reading about what I already knew. Actually, there was only a small amount I had already read about and the majority of the book was fresh, and fascinating material.
From the work of the war graves commission to the only known burial site of a witch in the UK he ranges far and wide. The chapter on the weeks he shadowed a muslim undertaker was particularly fascinating and the chapter on natural burial grounds has finally made my mind up about where I want to go when I cark it. Fantastic stuff.

Started really well but completely lost its way half way through. Suddenly decided to give the reader a history lesson on the Irish Troubles. Gave up at that point..

Thanks to Headline and NetGalley for the Advance Review Copy in exchange for an honest review.

I was so excited to read this book after hearing about it on social media. I'm really interested in graveyards and burial spaces. I don't care if that sounds weird because it's actually not. We are all going to die and it's something we need to face and think about..

If you read a lot of nature writing you can think of this book as being quite similar but about graveyards. There's factual information interspersed with philosophical ruminations on life, death and everything in between but it doesn't ever really descend into woo woo esoterical nonsense which I personally really appreciated.

One of the things I liked about this book was the focus on the lesser known personages. Usually books of this ilk focus on the rich and famous but I really liked the insight into the lives of some of the "ordinary" people from history.

That said, sometimes I think the focus was too much on the living and not the dead. Sometimes the pacing just felt a bit off and some sections seemed unbalanced. The section on the Troubles for example felt really out of sync with the rest of the book and I think the main message of the book was lost a bit during this section.

More international examples would have been nice too. There's such fascinating death traditions from around the world and although it would be impossible to include everything, I think the book might have benefited from a broader scope.

The review will be published on my blog, OfBooksAndCoffee.com, Goodreads, and Amazon on 3rd Sep 2020 (publication day).
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They say that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. The good news is - no one mentioned anything about picking a book by one. That's how this title caught my eye: "The stories and glories of graveyards".

The blurb reads:
"Enter a grave new world of fascination and delight as award-winning writer Peter Ross uncovers the stories and glories of graveyards. Who are London's outcast dead and why is David Bowie their guardian angel? What is the remarkable truth about Phoebe Hessel, who disguised herself as a man to fight alongside her sweetheart, and went on to live in the reigns of five monarchs? Why is a Bristol cemetery the perfect wedding venue for goths?

All of these sorrowful mysteries - and many more - are answered in A Tomb With A View, a book for anyone who has ever wandered through a field of crooked headstones and wondered about the lives and deaths of those who lie beneath.

So push open the rusting gate, push back the ivy, and take a look inside..."

I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting. Probably something between a spooky tale and a journalistic presentation of facts. What awaited me was so much more than that.

I'm not a huge taphophile. I never had any particular interest in visiting old cemeteries just for the sake of going there. Over the years, I visited a few of them as a part of bigger tours. The oldest one is the Glendalough monastic site, but Dublin's Glasnevin and Edinburgh's Greyfriars are the most notable ones I touristed upon.
I always considered them a place of personal contemplation and grief. As such, it felt more appropriate to leave them undisturbed.

In the comfort of my own home, Peter Ross took me with him on a journey through great urban necropolises, like London's Highgate and Kensal Green or Glasnevin, to a lesser-known tide-hidden resting place of Lilias Adie - a victim of Scottish witchcraft panic from 1704.
Author tactfully interweaves facts about the cemeteries with personal stories hidden behind the names on stones: Kensal Green's Medi Oliver Mehra, Malmesbury Abbey's Hannah Twynnoy, St Nicholas Churchyard's Phoebe Hessel, or Shane MacThomás, whose life, death, and what follows after, is tied to Glasnevin and its history.

Cemeteries are also for the dead and the living alike. Speaking to Highgate's gardener and stonemason, and Haji Taslim Funerals is an intimate glimpse behind the curtain on the everyday life of burials.
Another aspect is that of belonging - to a community or to a place. Like countless residents of Crossbones, participants of the Queerly Departed tour, or WWI fallen - they are not missing; they are here.

Ross' accounts are compelling, but without losing the empathy and tact. Like a good tour guide, he knows there is space for tears, but also for laughter, for grief and for a celebration of life, for grand monuments and for wooden crosses, for defiance and for reconciliation. All told with a hint of nostalgia for the forgotten histories hidden behind names and dates.
The book is also a meditation on a personal approach to mortality, burial customs, and what follows after.

Books should not be judged by their cover, but I reserve the right to judge them by how they make me feel.
A Tomb with a View made me feel anger, grief, and appreciation. It also allowed me to look at the tombstones from a perspective of legacies and remembrance they represent.