Review of ASHA IN HER GARDEN by Anita Rau Badami (New Release)

4 Stars 

I’ve read all of Anita Rau Badami’s novels (Tamarind Mem, The Hero’s Walk, Can You Hear the Nightbird Call? and Tell it to the Trees) and have enjoyed them all. Asha in Her Garden, the latest, after a 15-year hiatus, is no exception.

The novel begins with seventy-year-old Asha Mohan witnessing the cutting down of an old maple tree in her Montreal back yard. This tree shaded her beloved garden, her sanctuary since she and her husband Suresh bought the house after moving from India decades earlier. The tree’s removal serves as an impetus for Asha’s examining her life, all the way back to her childhood in Bangalore, its joys and sorrows, and her relationships with her family. She wonders if she can change those things she doesn’t like. Can she reconfigure her life just as the removal of the tree reconfigures her garden?

It is the character of Asha that is central to the book. She is a complex, authentic character. She is what would be termed “a force to be reckoned with.” From an early age, she decides “She would be loud and demanding, a force in a world where noisy and pushy and forceful equalled success.” And she is certainly successful in her career. Her son Dilip thinks of his mother as indomitable, noisy, and strong. Suresh fell in love with “her independent nature, her sharp mind, her strength and willingness to take chances.”

But we also see Asha’s flaws. She is a proud person who angers easily. Added to these is her inability to apologize. Suresh comments, “That was her problem. She could not bring herself to admit she was wrong.” As one would expect, these traits affect her relationships with her family, especially Suresh, Dilip, and her cousin Meru. Asha herself also comes to realize that her desire to be independent caused her to make some poor choices: “Now she resented everyone in her family because she had made the wrong choices – she knew it was unfair of her, but she could not stop being angry.” There is no doubt that she loves her family, but she is also often annoyed by them. All of this makes her relatable.

There are several themes. One is a lesson Asha is taught by her uncle: “’What you see . . . or hear . . . is usually not the true nature of a thing.’” She seems to learn this lesson, later commenting, “How you describe a thing depends on how you look at it, and there were as many ways of looking at a thing as there were leaves on a tree.”

What remains with me is the comments about life. Life is not easy. At times it can feel, like Asha’s garden, a ruined landscape, but at other times, “like her perennials which went down every year and then burgeoned back,” life brings joys. When faced with death, Asha decides, “Life was amazing. It was magic. It was this tiny seed of hope, converted into all manner of things.” Change is inevitable, but even when it seems undesirable it can be positive. For example, the cutting of the tree brings “a vast openness” full of potential. Life is all about “The keeping, the letting go. Breathing in and breathing out. You do these things to live when you have breath, and when your life is done, you let go.”

I enjoyed this novel. It’s beautifully written with many descriptions of flowers and trees which serve as metaphors for Asha’s life. And its comments about life are as relatable as is the character of the flawed but admirable Asha.

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

Review of THE INNER DARKNESS by Jørn Lier Horst

 3.5 Stars

This is the third book of the Nordic noir series the Cold Case Quartet featuring William Wisting.

A serial killer, Tom Kerr, has agreed to reveal the resting place of his last victim. During the site visit, however, Kerr escapes. The police have long suspected that Kerr had an unknown accomplice whom they have dubbed as the Other One. Now it seems this collaborator has helped Kerr to escape. Both Kerr and the Other One are considered evil, possessing an inner darkness defined as “’an urge to inflict pain on other human beings.’” Wisting and his team are determined to recapture Kerr and also identify and capture the Other One. But can they do so before there are other victims?

As always, Wisting is likeable. He is intelligent, kind, calm, determined and principled. What bothered me however, is his willingness to accept blame when Kerr escapes. He acknowledges often having a sense of inadequacy, but this time he feels “an uncontrollable, relentless sense of guilt.” The operation may not have been perfectly executed, but Adrian Stiller, I think, is much more to blame. Wisting is used as a scapegoat. He even acknowledges Stiller’s being blinded by ambition: “The fact that the site visit had culminated in an escape seemed like an alternative Stiller had envisaged and planned for.” Yet Wisting never points out Stiller’s culpability.

Stiller has appeared in the previous two books in the series and, again, I find him problematic. He is described as “a meticulous investigator” but Line admits that she finds him unreliable because “he always harboured an ulterior motive in everything he did.” He’s an ambitious man who keeps his agenda hidden from others. Then when things go wrong, he seems willing to let others take the fall. He does redeem himself a bit towards the end, but I suspect he will show up unchanged in the next book.

Wisting’s daughter Line is once again heavily involved. She videotapes the site visit operation for the police with the promise that she will later be able to use the footage in a planned documentary. Then she pushes herself further into the case, weakly arguing that “’I was there when Tom Kerr did a runner. I still have a sore head from the explosion. I can’t just wait until it’s over. I won’t be able to rest until he’s safely back in jail.’” It’s irritating how much she leaves her daughter in the care of others. And it’s inevitable that she will get herself into a dangerous situation from which her father must rescue her.

I did find the plot somewhat predictable. I guessed the identity of the Other One early on. It’s almost too obvious. Then the psychiatrist’s description of the Other One as “’a person who has created the illusion of altruism and modesty, someone expert at concealing his egotistical and egocentric motives and who appears for all the world to be honest, good-natured and even noble’” cinched it for me.

There is another description that caught my attention: “The abuse of authority, subjugation and control, and domination of the will of others provided evil with fertile soil in which to flourish, and at the same time both blind obedience and uncritical loyalty to absolute rules were what could transform peaceful democracies into fascist dictatorships.” Did the author have a particular country in mind?

With its short chapters, the novel is a quick read. It starts slowly but picks up pace, and tension increases as the element of danger increases for several people. It’s perfect for an entertaining summer read.

Review of FREYJA by Margrét Ann Thors (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This psychological suspense novel is set in Iceland.

In 2018 Unnur is a single mother to seven-year-old Lilja. She lives a quiet life in Reykjavík, but she is haunted by what happened when she was eleven years old and living in the remote Dark Valley. There she befriended Freyja who mysteriously vanished one night. Unnur has only fragments of memories of what happened that night so she worries that she might have been somehow responsible for Freyja’s disappearance.

When Unnur’s ex-husband returns to Iceland, he is accompanied by a new girlfriend Lóa who seems to know a lot about Unnur’s past. Lóa is a detective who opens a cold case investigation into Freyja’s disappearance so Unnur is desperate to recover her memories of what happened almost three decades earlier. If she is implicated in Freyja’s presumed death, Lilja would be taken from her.

The chapters alternate between the past (1990-1991) set in southern Iceland and the present (2028) set in both Reykjavík and Dark Valley. Unnur is the narrator, but, as she admits, she is an unreliable one because of her broken memories. Also there is much she did not understand when she was a pre-teen.

Unnur’s love for Lilja is her outstanding trait; she will do anything to keep her daughter safe. There are times, however, where her behaviour is rather strange. She commits a crime to take back a possession that means a great deal to her. Considering the nature of the crime, it’s impossible that her guilt will not be discovered. And if this item means so much to her, why didn’t she get it earlier? She had ample time and could easily have acquired it without committing a crime. (And how did the thief who stole this item know about its importance to Unnur?) Why doesn’t Unnur tell Geir the truth when he’s so open to hearing her story? Instead she confides in Pétur, a man she’s just met? She leaves her key in her car and doesn’t shut the door?

The behaviour of the villain is far-fetched. I’ve heard about playing the long game, but the amount of patience and strategic planning required are unbelievable. Naming a child after a hated person makes no sense. And Nói’s obliviousness seems extreme.

The plot relies too much on coincidence. A novel based on Freyja’s story has just been published, a journalist becomes interested in the case, and Lóa returns to Iceland, all at virtually the same time. Then there’s the timing of the meeting between Elias and Palli. The revelations are timed just too perfectly. Unnur strokes the image on a photo and her memories return?

The novel examines memory and how unreliable it can be. Certainly memories of traumatic events can be buried so Unnur’s fragmented memories make sense. However, her having no memory whatsoever of one person seems strange, especially because she does remember a visit to the church in Dark Valley.

I fell in love with Iceland when I visited a few years ago, so I loved the descriptions of the setting. Of course, when I read about the black sand beach of Dark Valley, I pictured Reynisfjara with its cave, basalt columns, sea stacks, and the dangerous sneaker waves.

This book has some typical weaknesses of a debut novel, but it is entertaining nonetheless. I will be on the lookout for the author’s next offering.

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

Review of SEND FOR ME by Lauren Fox

 3 Stars

This book is historical fiction but based on the author’s family letters.

Klara and Julius own a bakery in Feldenheim, Germany. They have a daughter Annelise who, as a young girl, yearns for more than working with her parents in the family business. Eventually she marries Walter and they have a daughter, Ruth. In 1938, Annelise, Walter, and Ruth leave for the U.S. amidst rising anti-Semitism. They settle in Milwaukee and try to arrange for Klara and Julius to join them. After Annelise’s death, her granddaughter Clare finds a cache of letters from Klara to Annelise.

The narrative weaves between the perspectives of Annelise and Clare, interspersed with excerpts from Klara’s letters. Briefly the points of view of Julius, Walter, and other secondary characters are also given. There is little plot, but the reader does see Annelise growing up and then building a new life in the U.S. Then there’s Clare; we see her in her late twenties as she finds it difficult to be far from her childhood home though she is in a relationship with Matthew, a graduate student who will be returning to London in a few months.

I enjoyed the first part of the novel focusing on life in Germany, but as the plot became more fragmented, I lost interest. Much is vague, left unexplained, so I found myself disconnected from the story. Some things that are included seem purposeless. What, for instance, is the purpose of the attraction between Annelise and her husband’s best friend?

I found the characters lacklustre. Clare, for instance, strikes me as whiny young woman waiting for a man. Annelise is also a problem for me. She mentions missing her parents, especially her mother, but she doesn’t seem to worry about what is happening in Germany. She focuses on her new life and suffers anguish about the possessions she had to leave behind. There is a sense of detachment to her; perhaps she distances herself emotionally from what is happening in her home country, but I ended up feeling detached from her.

It is Klara’s letters which I found most interesting – and heartbreaking. Her anguish over the loss of her daughter and granddaughter is palpable. Klara is desperate to be reunited with them. She doesn’t describe conditions in Germany, at least not in any detail, but her obvious anxiety, even if we are given only one sentence, says more than is needed.

The novel is about the legacy of family separation. We see the pain passed down among women of four generations. Clare, the fourth generation, says it’s impossible for her to move far away from her parents; even a few days away is traumatic. She tells Matthew that she can’t leave her parents, that is just not done: “He could never really understand the primordial soup from which she had emerged. She was obligation and reparation, rupture and remedy.”

The prose is beautiful but the fragmented and vague plotline, the colourless characters, and the abrupt ending left me unsatisfied. The entire book just felt flat. I appreciate the theme, but found that it is not developed in an interesting way.

Review of GETTING AWAY WITH MURDER by Shari Lapena (New Release)

3.5 Stars 

This is another domestic suspense novel by an author considered by many to be a master of the genre.

Jill and Ted Westcott love their luxury Brooklyn Heights brownstone the way other people love their children. It’s their sanctuary which they’ve expensively renovated and decorated to reflect their tastes. Unfortunately they cannot continue their lifestyle because Ted’s inheritance has run out and he has made some ruinous investments. Since losing the house is unthinkable for them, they decide to murder Ted’s brother Greg from whom they will inherit millions. With the killing disguised as a tragic accident, they believe they can get away with murder.

The novel made me think of Macbeth because both the novel and Shakespeare’s play focus on the aftermath of a murder and its effect on the perpetrators. (Jill even compares herself to Lady Macbeth at one point.) Jill and Ted believe they can escape any consequences as long as they didn’t make any mistakes, as long as they can trust each other, and as long as there are no surprises. Of course, not all goes as planned because they begin to receive blackmail text messages indicating someone else knows what they did.

Soon after these texts arrive, paranoia sets in. Who could possibly know what they did? They begin to suspect the blackmailer could be someone they know so friendships and relationships are impacted. They start to realize that others are ultimately unknowable. Could others be jealous of their good fortune? And, in fact, how solid is their marriage: can they really trust each other to not make self-interest a priority?

As I suspect most readers will, I identified the blackmailer quickly. There are really limited options so it’s quite obvious who is connected. In fact, I think the author expects us to correctly guess. Ted and Jill, however, panic and suspect everyone. Their choices end up making their situation worse by inadvertently revealing their guilt to others. It’s impossible not to laugh at some of their ridiculous decisions – until the consequences become serious.

It would be difficult to find a more unsympathetic couple than Ted and Jill. They are cold and heartless and morally corrupt. They don’t experience guilt at what they did; they are just paranoid that they will be caught and so are willing to do whatever is necessary to prevent that. They are wealthy and privileged but greedy, insisting on holding on to the brownstone, their prized possession, regardless of the consequences to others. And they are so willing to see themselves as victims; Ted complains that he doesn’t deserve what is happening to him because “He’d always been a good person, and Greg had it coming. It’s not Ted’s fault that Greg was such a bastard and that he left him all that money.”

I really enjoyed reading about how Jill and Ted’s perceptions of themselves and each other change. Ted, for instance, decides that “He’s not a soft, effete product of privilege. He’s much more than that. He has been tested, and he has found a way to survive.” He acknowledges that he is greedy and ruthless and has a chip on his shoulder. When things go wrong, he starts to become critical of Jill; he thinks she is not being as grateful and supportive as she should be. He even calls her a shrew and thinks that she is still beautiful but “perhaps not quite as beautiful as before.”

I found the ending underwhelming; I wanted more. However, given the repeated comments about the consequences of the wealthy behaving despicably, the ending is appropriate. The book is a brisk, entertaining read, perfect for the summer.

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

Review of AN UNTHINKABLE THING by Nicole Lundrigan

 3.5 Stars

I prefer my audiobooks to be escapist, and this one fit the bill.

Beginning in 1958, the story is narrated by 11-year-old Tommie Ware. Aunt Celia, the woman who raised him, is murdered by a serial killer. Tommie is forced to move in with his mother Esther, a live-in housekeeper for the prominent Henneberry family. Hers is not a glamorous existence: she lives in a very small room and is at the family’s beck and call. The family has agreed to allow Tommie to stay for the summer until Esther can make other arrangements.

Tommie soon finds himself enmeshed with the Henneberry family: Muriel, the heavily medicated matriarch, expects him to indulge her whims; 15-year-old Martin, a bully and budding psychopath, uses him as a pawn in his despicable games; and Raymond, a philanderer, is just eager to have Tommie gone. And then there are the unsettling encounters with the neighbour, Mrs. Grimshaw, who seems to know a lot about the family though her mental health issues make her an unreliable witness.

Interspersed with Tommie’s narrative are news clips about and actual testimony from Tommie’s trial. Near the end of his summer stay with them, he is charged with the murder of the entire Henneberry family. I never believed Tommie to be guilty though many consider him a logical suspect. There is a definite contrast between the Tommie the reader gets to know and the one portrayed in court.

The Henneberrys are not likeable. They are a rich family behaving very badly, but their wealth gives them power and protects them so they are seen as pillars of the community. In actuality, however, one must search carefully to find a redeemable trait in any of them. Because we learn her backstory, Muriel does perhaps gain some sympathy, but her feelings of superiority and treatment of others overshadow any positive feelings a reader might have. Dr. Henneberry is an unfaithful husband who teaches his son that all women are “asking for it.” And Martin, with his overdeveloped sense of entitlement, has learned that lesson well.

Tommie is a foil for the Henneberry family members. He is sweet and innocent. Though he senses that there is something wrong with the behaviour of all of them, he doesn’t know how to express his misgivings. He wants to do the right thing, but often finds himself unable to react appropriately. He’s the character for whom it is impossible not to have sympathy because he has to come to terms with the death of his beloved aunt and has his entire life uprooted.

The title is perfect. Many unthinkable things happen, atrocious acts that almost defy description. But then there’s the epilogue where a much older Thomas reveals a secret!

Parts of the plot are predictable and the pace is slow in places, but I found the book an entertaining companion on morning walks.

Review of UNDER THE BLAZING SUN by Jenny Lund Madsen

 3 Stars

I had the same issues with this novel as I did with the first book in the series, Thirty Days of Darkness (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/07/review-of-thirty-days-of-darkness-by.html).

Hannah Krause-Bendix is sent by her editor to a luxurious villa in Sicily. His hope is that she will write a second crime novel that will be as successful as her first. Shortly after arrival, however, Hannah finds herself involved in a murder case. Against police orders, she begins her own investigation. (The premise is the same as in Thirty Days of Darkness in which Hannah is sent to Iceland to write.)

I find Hannah to be very unlikeable. Her arrogance becomes tiresome and annoying. She is constantly whining and wallowing in self-pity. To say she is condescending is almost an understatement: she thinks herself everyone’s superior. She even thinks of herself as a writer of high-quality literature though she is best known for writing romances. She is not a skilled investigator; she herself mentions that she stumbles upon evidence. Is she intended as a spoof of an amateur detective: an over-the-top, self-important character with no investigative skills? I kept thinking I should be amused by her but I wasn’t. She has a serious drinking problem, and I find it difficult to laugh at that.

As in Thirty Days of Darkness, there is an over-reliance on the tired clichés of crime fiction. Of course the police are incompetent and rush to conclusions. And because the novel is set in Sicily, the Mafia must make an appearance. If the book is poking fun at the tropes of crime novels, I guess it works.

The reader is certainly required to suspend disbelief. Hannah has a lot of lucky breaks: a screwdriver is found in an unlikely spot but at the most convenient time. And, again as in Thirty Days of Darkness, serious physical injuries don’t impede the injured? Then there are the inconsistencies: police tell Hannah not to involve herself in the murder case, but they let her speak to the victim’s husband at the police station? One minute Hannah suggests Lucette can talk some sense into someone because she knows him, but then minutes later Hannah suggests she herself knows him and so might be able to talk some sense into him? She stuffs a taser into her waistband but then drops it when she sees something shocking?

The most entertaining parts are the exchanges between Hannah and Jørn Jensen. In these sections, the humour shines; otherwise, I didn’t find the book funny. And as crime fiction, I found the book superficial and contrived with little tension. This book is second in the series, entitled Murder by the Book, a series marketed as a mystery series, and the award nominations for the first book are for crime fiction. So, again, I’m confused as to how I should read this book – comedy or crime fiction?

As I’ve mentioned many times before in my reviews, I have difficulty appreciating humour in written form. My rating, therefore, is intended to show that I recognize that it may not be the book that is deficient but this particular reader.