Review of MISSING SAM by Thrity Umrigar (New Release)

 4 Stars

This novel, set between July 2019 and March 2020, focuses on Aliya (Ali) Mirza and Samantha (Sam) O’Malley, a gay couple living in Cleveland Heights, Ohio.

After an argument with her wife the previous night, Sam goes for a morning run and disappears. Ali reports Sam missing but as a gay and Muslim daughter of Indian immigrants, she can’t escape the suspicion of both acquaintances and strangers. As she contends with guilt and fear, Ali is isolated and vilified online.

The novel alternates between the points of view of Ali and Sam. Besides describing their current circumstances, they reveal their difficult pasts. Ali’s mother died and her father (Abba) remarried a woman who disapproves of homosexuality, so Ali and her father have been estranged. Sam’s abusive father disowned her for the same reason, and her relationship with her mother has been affected by her mother always deferring to her husband.

Pacing is uneven. The first part, focusing on the search for Sam and her fate, is fast-paced and suspenseful. The second half is much slower because it centres on whether/how it’s possible to return to “normal” life after such a trauma.

The emotional lives of both Ali and Sam are clearly described. Both are fearful, though for different reasons. Both feel guilty about their contributions to their often tempestuous relationship. Both feel alone, Sam because no one knows of her whereabouts and Ali because she has little support in face of public scrutiny and mistrust. I sometimes felt very frustrated with Ali: some of her choices seem foolish and only add to her troubles, though I admit to never having been in her situation so perhaps I’d behave similarly. I did appreciate that both undergo some personal growth; their traumatic experiences bring lessons, especially about understanding other people and their behaviours.

This is not a light read. Besides describing trauma and its effects on people, the book highlights racism, homophobia, Islamophobia, and xenophobia. The author clearly suggests that the political climate created during Trump’s first term contributed to these problems in society. The book, however, is a worthwhile read.

Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.

Review of DEPARTURE(S) by Julian Barnes (New Release)

 4 Stars

Julian Barnes turned 80 on January 19, the day before this book was published. And it is so very much a Julian Barnes book, one difficult to categorize as either fiction or non-fiction, which the narrator’s friend would undoubtedly dismiss as “’This hybrid stuff you do.’”

The narrator is a writer named Julian Barnes who states that what we are reading will be his last book. He begins with a lengthy discussion of memory, how it works and its fallibility. Promising that there will be a story, or a story within the story, he eventually tells the story of two friends, Jean and Stephen, for whom he played matchmaker, once in the 1960s and again 40 years later. This narrative feels less of a plot and more a device for examining love. The latter part of the book is a reflection of the narrator’s life (his writing career, the deaths of his wife and friends, his diagnosis with blood cancer, the ravishes of aging, and his eventual death). The book closes with a farewell to his readers.

I’ve really liked several of Barnes’ novels and this one was no exception. I enjoyed reading his thoughts about memory, love, grief, and death. Perhaps because I am only a decade away from his age, his reflections resonated with me. I especially liked his way of accepting life’s vicissitudes and one’s inevitable death: it’s just the universe doing its stuff.

At the end, the narrator addresses the reader directly and imagines the writer and reader sitting side by side at a cafe, watching and musing at the lives passing by. Throughout, the narrator speaks in a relaxed voice as if indeed the reader and writer are having a conversation – though he admits to seldom catching the reader’s mutterings since he imagines the reader sitting on his deaf side. As such conversations between companions do, this one meanders with digressions touching on both serious and trivial topics.

The serious topics outnumber the inconsequential, but there are definite touches of humour. The discussions about Jimmy, a Jack Russell, are often hilarious. I chuckled at Julian’s description of his triage fantasy: imagining that during Covid, he’d be dismissed as an old geezer relegated to end-of-life care until someone notices his lapel badge announcing his winning of the Booker Prize. And I loved his jabs at Trump, commenting it would be appropriate if he’d sworn on a copy of the Wicked Bible which commands “Thou shalt commit adultery.”

The title is perfect. The narrator has experienced the departure of memories, has had some people in his life leave temporarily and some die, and he gives more than passing thought to his own departure from life. And is he saying goodbye to his writing career? The narrator emphasizes how writers lie and don’t keep promises, like the one he made to Jean and Stephen to never write about them. So should we take Barnes’s statement, about this being his last book, at face value?

I hope this is not his last book, but if it is, it is a good one to mark the end of his career. And though I won’t stop looking at “the many and varied expressions of life,” I’ll miss his “sturdy presence” and “conversational mutterings.”

Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.

Review of GOOD GUYS by Sharon Bala (New Release)

 4 Stars

I read Sharon Bala’s debut novel, The Boat People (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2018/05/review-of-boat-people-by-sharon-bala.html), which I loved and which I don’t think received enough recognition. I was equally impressed with her sophomore title.

Claire Talbot is a publicist for Children of the World, an international aid charity. The organization is on the verge of bankruptcy so Claire is thrilled when she is able to arrange for Dallas Hayden, a well-known actress, to volunteer at their orphanage in Central America. Dallas documents everything on social media so the exposure brings in much needed donations. Then Dallas decides to adopt a baby and promises a massive donation. But a journalist, Emmanuelle Clemmons, digs into the charity’s operations and uncovers a shocking crime which could ruin its reputation.

The novel explores philanthropy and international charity organizations which are often ineffective if not even exploitative. One of the characters remembers how as a teenager she’d worked with an inner-city ministry “traipsing downtown to save the souls of fallen women.” She now realizes “What did she, a middle-class virgin, know of homelessness and pimps . . . She’d been so bloated with arrogance, so secure in the righteousness of all her actions, the delusion that she knew what was best for complete strangers.” Her conclusion applies to several people who have good intentions but it’s obvious that these do not guarantee good outcomes.

The book emphasizes how philanthropy is an expression of power: “philanthropy was an act of supremacy, the giver forcing their desires on the unwilling recipients.” Donations are often given with expectations: “There was no such thing as a gift; there were only strings donors could yank to make recipients do their bidding.” And the wealthy demand fanfare: “Stamping their names on hospital wings and law schools, like dogs marking a fence.” Such donations can be problematic: “Every millionaire wanted to stamp their name on a new building, but once the ribbon was cut, mundane expenses, like payroll and hydro bills, were left to the charity, stretching operational budgets thin, necessitating more fundraising to attract more major donors who demanded more buildings. But hey! The robber barons got to jack off their egos.” Is it a stretch to argue that “’It’s a threat to a nation’s democracy when the people calling the shots and deciding how to solve a country’s biggest problems are outsiders with deep pockets and no stake in the outcome’”?

Some organizations use philanthropy as a distraction and to rehabilitate tarnished reputations: a grocery chain is embroiled in a price-fixing scandal and the charity’s founder tells a representative, “’I think we can work together to make customers think differently about your brand’” though a director argues she doesn’t want the charity to become “’a laundromat for dirty corporations.’” And it’s unfair that “glamorous causes monopolized attention and resources, leaving others orphaned.” In the novel, for example, there’s a boy who could use the actress’s help but would “anyone want a nine-year-old boy when there was a baby girl in the picture.” Employers sometimes have employee campaigns, and Emmanuelle complains about “the employer’s fingers in her pocket, skimming her meagre salary to pad the coffers of the VP’s pet charity.” And why should stores get the credit for donations made by customers at the till?

The book is replete with deeply flawed characters who may want to do good but also have self-serving hidden agendas. Claire, for instance, is looking for redemption after years of helping wealthy corporations escape the consequences of wrongdoings. Emmanuelle wants to reveal the truth but there is no doubt that she wants to advance her career. Dallas is hoping that the positive vibes of her adopting a child will help her get an Oscar nomination. Everyone makes ethical compromises to achieve their goals. One woman admits to ignoring “her better judgment, lured by the false promise of yet another big cheque.”

The author does make suggestions as to what would improve charity organizations. She implies that it would be best to put money into people’s hands instead of setting up an “elaborate middleman scheme.” One of the director’s says, “’The problem with foreign aid is foreign aid. No one is saying How can we give people a hand up and, once they’re on their feet, let them take charge?’” Emmanuelle argues, “’Interventions should be dictated by local needs, not foreign whims.’” Even Claire asks, “’Why do we have orphanages anyway? Why does anyone? Especially if it would be cheaper to give families money and let them keep their kids at home.’” In her Gratitude notes, the author mentions family members who “quietly change lives, without strings or fanfare, exactly the way good deeds should be done.”

There is so much in this novel. I think it would be a great choice for a book club because there’s so much to discuss. The book is sometimes an uncomfortable read because the reader knows things cannot end well, but it is very thought-provoking and so I have to recommend it.

Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.

Review of EVELYN IN TRANSIT by David Guterson (New Release)

 3 Stars

David Guterson is best known for his debut novel, Snow Falling on Cedars, which, like most people, I loved. Over the years, I’ve read other of his novels like Ed King (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2017/10/archival-review-of-ed-king-by-david.html) and The Final Case (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/02/review-of-final-case-by-david-guterson.html) but have been less impressed. His latest book, Evelyn in Transit, was also not a page turner for me.

There are two storylines set in very different parts of the world. Evelyn Bednarz is born in Indiana. From the beginning she feels like a misfit. She’s tall and large and very physically strong. Restless and fiercely individualistic, she is unsuited to life at school. At the age of eighteen, she leaves home and travels across the American West, taking odd jobs and living life on her own terms. She becomes pregnant and gives birth to a son she names Cliff River Bednarz. The other story is set in Tibet. Tsering Lekpa, a young boy believed to be the reincarnation of a high lama, is taken from his home and raised as a Buddhist monk.

The two stories merge, two-thirds through the novel, when a trio of Buddhist monks arrives at the Bednarz home to announce that 5-year-old Cliff is the reincarnation of a high lama. Evelyn is forced to question whether she believes in reincarnation and whether she should relinquish her young son to a monastic life.

The ending is so predictable. First there’s the title. Then there’s Evelyn’s desire “to live the right way”; she says, “’from my earliest memories, I’ve felt like something’s wrong, something’s missing, something isn’t right.’” Her attitude to life seems to be that of a Buddhist: she’s detached and aloof, showing little emotion, and lives mindfully in the present, not needing to control the future. Her love of nature and her nomadic lifestyle can only be foreshadowing. Of course, if readers know little about Buddhist practices, they will not perceive the inevitable narrative direction.

I did not enjoy the narrative style. Evelyn and Tsering’s lives are described through a series of vignettes. This episodic style feels disjointed. And the predominance of short, simple sentences makes for tedious reading. In addition, there is little plot. For the longest time the plot just meanders: something happens and time moves on and something else happens. The lack of momentum means a lack of tension which means a lack of interest. The narrative just feels aimless, especially because the two storylines intersect late in the book.

Because of the style, much is not explained. For instance, the political situation in Tibet leading to Buddhist monks fleeing the country should be explained. Much of Tibetan culture and Buddhist tradition is described vaguely or left unexplained. It is by fortuitous chance that I just finished reading The Last of Earth by Deepa Anappara set in Tibet; this novel describes much about Tibet. Were it not for this reading, I would have been confused for large parts of Evelyn in Transit.

I’m afraid this slow-paced novel about spiritual quests was not for me.

Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via Edelweiss.

Review of THE LAST OF EARTH by Deepa Anappara (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This novel is set in 1869 on both sides of the India-Tibet border. At this time Tibet was closed to Europeans, this policy of isolation intended to preserve Tibet's culture, Buddhist traditions, and political independence.

The novel follows two European explorers venturing into the Forbidden Kingdom from India. Fifty-year-old Katherine, the illegitimate child of an English father and Indian mother, can pass as Indian. She hires Mani, a young man, to pretend to be her son as he guides her into Tibet. She intends to be the first European woman to reach Lhasa and thereby perhaps secure a place with the Royal Geographical Society. The other explorer is an Englishman called Captain who, disguised as a monk, undertakes a surveying expedition. He hires Balram, an Indian teacher who has periodically worked as a surveyor for the British, to lead him into Tibet where he wants to chart the course of a major river. Balram, however, has his own agenda: he is intent on rescuing his friend Gyan who went missing on a previous expedition and is rumoured to be imprisoned in a Tibetan monastery. Both parties encounter various obstacles on their treks: storms, bandits, soldiers, illness, injuries, and wild animals.

I kept expecting the two expeditions to meet, but there is virtually no interaction. I’m not certain what the point is of two parallel stories that barely intersect. Midway through the book, Katherine sees the captain but “she hurried away, afraid he would look in her direction and see her for who she was as clearly as she saw him.” This avoidance creates some suspense, but a subsequent meeting is certainly anti-climatic. In fact, the conclusion of the entire book is unsatisfying.

Katherine and Balram, the two characters whose perspectives are the focus of the book, are well developed with interesting backstories. Katherine has always felt like an outsider and this may account for her restlessness. Haunted by her sister’s death, she is seeking redemption and hopes to find it in Lhasa. Balram’s thoughts reveal that he feels responsible for Gyan’s fate, that he is an inept guide and an unsatisfactory father, especially to his son, and that he has unresolved feelings for his friend. Though both he and Katherine have positive qualities, I didn’t particularly like either of them. Katherine’s treatment of Mani, her prejudices, and her falsehoods in her journal don’t make her admirable. Balram pretends to follow the Captain’s orders but is not above theft and manipulation.

There are many minor characters. Balram is in charge of a team of men who are individually identified, but there are so many of them, it is difficult to remember who is who. Each remains a flat character. Then there’s Chetak, a mysterious figure who appears, almost like an apparition, whenever his help is needed. He interacts with both sets of travellers, but his motives are obscure. His behaviour towards Katherine, because of his dislike of the English, is particularly strange.

I was not enamoured with the writing style. There are poetic descriptions of the landscape: “Walking alone under clouds silvered by the sun, past fields yellow with rapeseed and pewter mountains striated with snow, he felt his heart beat to the rhythms of the world: the lapping of the waves of a river, the wind whistling down hills, even the snorts of a yak or the rustle of grass as a startled hare leaped toward its hiding place.” Unfortunately I found that the many descriptions really slow down the pace of the novel. Then there is the piling on of sentences like “The captain invited . . . Chetak and the young guide seemed . . . Samarth went to sleep. Balram looked up at the sky.” When I read I visualize the action, but I had difficulty doing that because the action sequences are described vaguely.

Of course there are elements I enjoyed. I liked how Balram often imagines what his wife or Gyan would say in reaction to something. I appreciated how the discrepancies between Katherine’s journal and reality reveal her character. Colonial attitudes, characterized by a sense of cultural and racial superiority, are clearly emphasized in a way that cannot but affect the reader. I also enjoy learning about Tibetan culture and religious practices.

I loved the author’s debut novel, Djinn Patrol on the Purple Line (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2020/02/review-of-djinn-patrol-on-purple-line.html), but was not as impressed with this one.

Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.

Review of SCARS OF SILENCE by Johana Gustawsson (New Release)

 4 Stars

I loved Yule Island, the first book in the Lidingö series, so was anxious to read this second one. It did not disappoint.

At the end of 2023, two teenaged boys are murdered on the island of Lidingö in the Stockholm archipelago. They are dressed in white tunics and wear crowns of candles like St. Lucia. Maïa Rehn has fled Paris after a family tragedy. Though on leave from her job with the French police, she is drawn into the investigation, joining Commissioner Aleksander Storm. One of the things they must consider is whether these murders are connected to a similar case 24 years earlier when a 16-year-old girl was killed and her body left in a similar manner. Besides dealing with the murders, both Maïa and Aleks have issues in their personal lives, the emotional impact of which they must keep from affecting their professional lives.

The novel is a compelling read from beginning to end. It opens with a truly shocking chapter which certainly captures the reader’s attention. Then there are questions for which the reader wants answers: How are the victims connected? Why are they dressed as St. Lucia? Are the current deaths connected to the one in 1999? Chapters alternate between Maïa and Aleks, but there are also some italicized interludes: who is the narrator of these? And the setting – the cold and dark of a Swedish winter – adds to the foreboding atmosphere.

Characterization is strong. Both protagonists are developed as complex individuals. Maïa, for instance, is intelligent and determined. Her outstanding trait is her ability is illicit information; Aleks says, “’You have a way of putting people at ease, or rather, you hold space for them to share their story. Not to give a witness statement, but to tell you what really happened. . . . It’s something that comes from within you. Like an aura. Most people listen to answer. You listen to hear.’” During the investigation, she remains completely professional, though she is grieving a great personal loss.

What I appreciate is the writer playing fair with the reader: she provides clues throughout. There are revelations which some readers may find surprising, but I did not because I’ve learned that this writer must be read carefully and thoughtfully. Her word choice is significant. Even though I guessed beforehand some of the twists, that did not lessen my enjoyment. I wanted to know if my suspicions would be confirmed.

This is not just a simple whodunit. It examines loss and grief and generational trauma, how individuals and families are shaped by traumatic events even long afterwards. The book also comments on the treatment of women by society and the justice system. Survivors of sexual assault, for instance, are often silent during attacks and the guilt of that reaction silences them afterwards. And in this regard, the title is perfect because it works on many levels.

I highly recommend this book. Its fluid writing style, its complex characterization, its thematic depth, and the tension maintained throughout ensure a great reading experience.

Review of THE STORM by Rachel Hawkins (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This book relies on the trope of “a storm is coming” in both a literal and figurative sense.

St. Medard’s Bay, Alabama, is known for its hurricanes. After Hurricane Marie in 1984, 19-year-old Lo Bailey is charged with the murder of her married lover, Landon Fitzroy, the son of Alabama’s governor. His body was found near the Rosalie Inn, a century-old seaside hotel. Though Lo is not convicted, many suspect that Landon’s death was not caused by the hurricane and that she used it to cover up her actions.

In 2025, Geneva Corliss, the current owner of the Rosalie Inn, plays host to August Fletcher, a journalist co-writing Lo’s memoir. He arrives with Lo for an extended stay while they work on the book. As Geneva gets to know Lo and August, she develops theories about what happened in 1984, but it seems obvious that the truth is more complicated than she expects.

There are some issues with narrative structure. There are alternating timelines with alternating points of view, and this approach can be confusing. For instance, Chapter One begins with a section where Geneva narrates some events (June 21, 2025), followed by an excerpt from a tabloid newspaper (1985), pages of an unfinished manuscript (Sept. 3, 2025), an excerpt from a book published in 1988, and then an email (Oct. 4, 1983). It’s not always clear what one is reading or whose point of view is being presented until attribution is given at the end.

Pacing is uneven. At the beginning, not much happens. There’s a slow build up to the approaching hurricane which the reader knows will be accompanied by a confrontation of some type. In the latter part, there are a lot of twists which feel rushed. Unfortunately, many of the twists are predictable. One character has early-onset Alzheimer’s and this inevitably means that she possesses an important secret. Another character is vague about her past and this signals she has secrets as well. Sometimes characters react strangely to each other or avoid each other and these reactions almost always indicate a hidden connection. These are all not-very-subtle clues that regular readers of mystery and suspense will notice.

Men are not portrayed positively. Men are either abusive (Linus Bailey), incompetent (plumber), alcoholic (the handyman), or domineering (L. B. Fitzroy). Even Geneva’s father, a good guy, seems to have been rather gullible. There’s more than one man who has a hidden agenda. It is Landon who is most unbelievable. He’s nothing more than a smarmy playboy using his handsomeness and charm to manipulate much younger women.

The book is entertaining, especially if one is willing to ignore its shortcomings, but it is not exceptional in any way.

Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.