Review of JUNE BABY by Shannon Garvey (New Release)

 2.5 Stars

This novel was not for me; its pace is so slow and its main character could be a case study for psychological/emotional arrested development.

Twenty-seven-year-old Ruth returns to Block Island, off the coast of Rhode Island, where she has spent the last ten summers. After her mother Maggie died when Ruth was seventeen, her father sent her to live on the island with Diana, a renowned photographer who had been friends with Maggie. It is there that Ruth fell in love with Charlie, Diana’s nephew who visited his aunt every summer.

Things are different this year because Diana died at the beginning of the summer. Ruth yearns to re-connect with Charlie, but he has surprising news. And there are more surprises from Diana as well. All this leaves Ruth wondering how well she knew the two women who raised her. Overwhelmed by the loss that she believes has shaped her life, Ruth is unable to move on.

Ruth is not a likeable character. Though approaching thirty, she is immature and self-centred. She behaves like a teenager, making one bad choice after another. When someone makes constructive suggestions to help her, she treats them as negative criticisms. Instead of taking responsibility for her decisions, she blames her losses for her lack of motivation. I disliked how she treats others; in essence, she uses them for what they can do for her. She’s so insufferable, I don’t understand why anyone would want to spend time with her. Stuck in the past, she is aimless, choosing to live from pay cheque to pay cheque though she bemoans her lack of financial security, and sneers at others who have chosen a path for their lives and are taking steps to reach their goals. The name of the island is a perfect metaphor for her blocked emotional life.

What is especially frustrating about Ruth is that she is given opportunities but she refuses to take them. Diana, for ten years, has tried to help Ruth, introducing her to people and making her aware of possibilities. Ironically, she envies the advantages of other people but cannot see those that she has rejected.

I understand that everyone experiences grief differently, but Ruth just wallows in it. Her mother died so certainly a reader will have sympathy for her. She does, however, end up with Diana who becomes like a surrogate mother who does so much to support Ruth for ten years. When Diana dies, Ruth doesn’t really honour Diana; instead, she focuses on what she herself has lost and doesn’t even consider that others too might be grieving. After a while, any sympathy I had for Ruth was replaced with irritation and anger.

Reading this book was not an enjoyable experience. The slow pace means the book drags. The fact that the writing style relies on exposition and has little dialogue makes it monotonous to read. Whatever happened to showing rather than telling? I do not need books to be action-paced, preferring character-driven ones, but Ruth is overly introspective which results in over-thinking and stagnation. The more time I spent in her head, the less I liked her, and the more I wanted to get out. At the end I just felt exhausted. It’s not as if she gains much insight in her constant self-examinations; she accuses her father of ignoring her or running from her, and being too sensitive and remote, yet doesn’t recognize she behaves in the same ways. Isn’t this called projection? In addition, there is considerable description of setting, but much of it is over-description and repetitive.

Though this novel is being marketed as a coming-of-age story, I’m not convinced that Ruth will change. June is seen by many as a month of personal empowerment and renewal but Ruth shows little potential in that regard so, for me, the second word in the title is what stands out when I think of her. Her exploitative behaviour and lack of empathy mean I have little empathy for her so I didn’t enjoy my time in her company.

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

Review of THE CALAMITY CLUB by Kathryn Stockett (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This is the second book by the author known for her 2008 novel, The Help. The Calamity Club is a dual perspective novel set in Oxford, Mississippi, in 1933.

Meg Lefleur, ll years old, has lived in an orphanage for two years but refuses to believe her mother deliberately abandoned her. Garnett Pittman, the orphanage director, hates the smart and sassy Meg and makes her life truly miserable: denying her an education and abusing her both physically and psychologically.

Birdie Calhoun, 24, comes to Oxford to visit her sister Frances who has married a banker. Birdie’s mother and grandmother fear losing their house because they haven’t been able to pay their taxes, so Birdie is sent to ask for money from Frances. While Birdie waits for Frances to ask for the money from her husband Rory, Birdie volunteers at the orphanage. There she meets and befriends Meg. Then, just as Meg is adopted, her mother Charlie arrives looking for her daughter and she begs Birdie to help her find Meg.

At 650+ pages, this is a big book with a long and windy plot. In some ways, it almost feels like two books; Charlie’s arrival takes events into an entirely different direction than expected. Her audacious and dangerous scheme to reclaim her life and her daughter is unlikely and unconvincing. That Charlie, Birdie and the others involved are able to avoid reprisals for so long stretches credulity. And though there are quite a few dramatic developments, the pace slackens at times. Is the on again – off again romantic subplot really necessary? Then the ending feels rushed. Everything is tied together but in a loose fashion. Given the earlier attention to details, the ending is quite a contrast. I would have preferred a more focused narrative.

There is certainly a cast of colourful characters, especially after Charlie arrives on the scene. I liked Birdie who is a kind and compassionate young woman. I did find her rather naive, though the time period and her rather sheltered life do perhaps explain her innocence. Meg steals the show for me. Intelligent and inquisitive, she is precocious. Her resilience in the face of her mistreatment from Garnett and others is admirable. Though young, she is less innocent than Birdie because her life experiences have opened her eyes to people’s cruelties and hypocrisies.

Garnett is a totally despicable character with no redeeming qualities. Her absolute villainy makes her unrealistic. Early in the novel, the connection between Garnett and Meg is signposted when she describes being rescued by Welty. When Birdie becomes aware of the connection, a possible solution to finding Meg and stopping Garnett’s interference in the girl’s life is obvious. No one has the courage to confront Welty or Garnett? Instead there’s a convoluted and wild plan that is just too far-fetched.

The book touches on a number of topics: homosexuality, prostitution, forced sterilization of women, adultery, prohibition, poverty, alcoholism, sexism and racism. Because the novel is set during the Great Depression, there is emphasis on the difficult choices faced by people.

The book is entertaining. Some scenes are hilarious, almost slapstick, especially in how Charlie and Birdie try to hide the nature of their enterprise. Meg’s comments can also be funny. There are heartbreaking scenes, particularly when Meg’s mistreatment is described. There is tension, mostly regarding Meg’s fate. I kept wondering exactly what would be best for Meg. Other scenes are heartwarming; the power of female friendship is definitely emphasized. My one wish is that the book were shortened with some judicious revision and editing.

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

Review of JOHN OF JOHN by Douglas Stuart (New Release)

 4.5 Stars

I was amazed by Douglas Stuart’s previous novels, Shuggie Bain and Young Mungo, which I found emotionally intense. This, his latest, is another masterpiece.

In the waning years of the twentieth century, twenty-two-year-old John-Calum (Cal) Macleod returns to the Isle of Harris in the Outer Hebrides after completing his studies at a textile design school. He returns home with naught but his education and a lot of debt. He moves back into the croft in which he had grown up; living there are his father John and his maternal grandmother Ella. As a closeted gay man living in a small and ultra-conservative religious community, Cal is not happy, but he feels a sense of duty towards his family. Because he has few options, he tries to shape a life, but he is restless and there are constant conflicts with his father.

The three people living in the croft are all outsiders in some way. Cal, with his long hair and city clothes and his unwillingness to marry a local girl and continue the family legacy, is viewed with disapproval, and he knows he would never be accepted if his sexual orientation were known. John is a pillar of the church and community but he has a deep secret which, if uncovered, he knows would turn everyone against him. Ella is a permanent outsider; brought from Glasgow by her husband many years ago, she has never been fully accepted. Her foul mouth and her inability to speak Gaelic mean she is isolated.

Unfortunately, Cal and John don’t try to understand each other. Ella describes them fittingly: “’Islands within islands . . . within islands, within islands.’” There are so many secrets and so much is left unspoken that they are really like their neighbours, Innes and Sorley MacInnes, brothers who live in the same house but haven’t spoken to each other directly for sixteen years. In fact, both father and son are very similar. Both are full of anger, shame, and fear, and are lonely, with a longing to love and be loved. Both carry a burden of secrets; the publisher describes the novel as being “about the face we put out to the world, which may not be the person we truly are.” Both John and Cal are pressured by the remoteness of their home, their sense of duty to family, the expectations of a community tied to tradition, and their rigid Calvinist faith. The only difference is that John has experienced these pressures for twice as many years as Cal.

The characters are complex and deeply flawed but they are definitely believable. Sometimes they are selfish and sometimes generous. Cal tends to be self-centred but his gift to Isla, for instance, is so unselfish given what he could have done with it. John and Cal love each other, but John can be violent and Cal is not beyond behaving cruelly and hatefully. I did not always like the two and I found myself feeling frustrated with them, two men with, in Ella’s words, “’A shockin’ lack of self-expression.’” But it is impossible to forget that both are tortured, broken men. My heart breaks for both.

I found it interesting that women also have secrets, but they tend to keep them to protect others. Ella considers telling her grandson about the secret in her past, but she worries about the effect on Cal. Grace, Cal’s mother, left John years earlier and Cal feels she abandoned him as well. The truth is that Grace left for another reason which she never discusses; that secret might now redeem her in her son’s eyes but would have hurt Cal as a young boy.

Ella is actually my favourite character. She’s strong and fiercely independent. She can be manipulative, but in the end her machinations are intended to help people, though they may not see it that way. Even her son-in-law, with whom she has a difficult relationship, she wants to be happy. She tells Cal, “’Make yourself happy, son. Christ above, let one of us be happy.’”

This is a character-driven, not a plot-driven, novel. Slow-moving and reflective, it focuses on Cal’s perspective, but also presents the viewpoints of John, Ella, and Innes so we see their inner conflicts in depth. Nonetheless, there is suspense: secrets are gradually revealed and the reader can only wonder what will be uncovered next and what will be the ramifications. The descriptions of the environment create a strong sense of place. With its emotional intensity this book shares similarities with Stuart’s previous novels, but this one has less brutality and even touches of humour.

The novel ends on a note of hope, though much is left unknown. Insightful and well-written, Douglas Stuart’s books always provide an immersive experience which leaves the reader changed.

See my reviews of Stuart’s other books:

Shuggie Bain - https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2020/10/review-of-shuggie-bain-by-douglas-stuart.html

Young Mungo - https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/04/review-of-young-mungo-by-douglas-stuart.html

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

Review of THE WOMEN by Kristin Hannah

 2.5 Stars

This is a book with great intentions: shining a spotlight on the experiences of a woman in the Vietnam War and how they impact her life thereafter. The execution, however, is poor.

Frances (Frankie) McGrath is twenty-one when she enlists as an army nurse in 1966. The first part of the novel details her time in Vietnam: working grueling hours looking after the wounded, some with horrific injuries, sometimes while being attacked. Living conditions are unsanitary and the only reprieve seems to be drinking in the officers’ clubs. Frankie is naive, idealistic and inexperienced but quickly has her eyes opened to the realities of war and she becomes a skilled surgical nurse.

In the second part of the novel, Frankie returns home after two years. She does not receive the welcome she expects. Her nursing career stalls and romantic relationships don’t evolve as hoped. Other than her two friends Ethel and Barb, fellow nurses she met in Vietnam, she has little support. Almost inevitably, her life spirals out of control.

I had a number of issues with the book. One was a lack of credibility. Frankie is a trained nurse but only in Basic Training does she learn how to apply a splint, debride a wound, and start an IV? She is no longer a teenager when the book opens but her bedroom is that of a child complete with pogo stick and hula hoop? Her mother’s letters focus on protests against the war and her disgust for the bouncing breasts of hippies? The idea that Vietnam veterans were widely spat on upon their return is largely considered a historical myth, with no documented, verified incidents from the era. More than once she is turned away by a veterans’ organization after being told that no women served in Vietnam? The use of a soap opera trope, resurrections, not once but twice, left me rolling my eyes! The meeting at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial at the end is just too convenient and unbelievable.

The book can best be described as overwritten. There are constant references to women’s bouffant hair and men’s mustaches and sideburns. Clothing is described in great detail; head-to-toe descriptions of what a character is wearing are not necessary. Frankie’s mother visits her daughter after what can only be called as a very tragic event and the author feels it is necessary to describe her being “dressed in a rust-colored skirt with a print vest over a blouse buttoned up to her throat, and knee-high boots”? Then there’s the constant mention of titles of songs. I understand the need to add local colour but there’s such a thing as too much.

There is also too much focus on romance. Why is it that every guy falls in love with Frankie? Certainly men greatly outnumbered women in the war, but why then do Ethel and Barb not have romantic relationships as frequently? Frankie even has married men willing to leave their wives for her. One man signs up for a second tour in Vietnam because of her. Once she returns stateside, her relationships with men seem more triggers of her PTSD than the war itself. One relationship seems to almost cure her PTSD but the symptoms reemerge when she learns a man has deceived her. She seems more lovesick and heartbroken than a person struggling with PTSD.

Even the title is misleading. Only one woman’s experiences and perspective are given. I would have like to read about those of other women, not just that of a privileged white woman. Since blacks were disproportionately represented in Vietnam, the perspective of Barb, a black woman, would have provided more depth and insight. At times, I felt the title should have included a reference to men because so many of Frankie’s decisions revolve around men. She goes to war because a man tells her women can be heroes and because she wants to impress her father; she re-ups because the boys need her; and her PTSD symptoms are controlled or recur depending on the state of her romantic relationships with men.

I did not find Frankie particularly admirable. Yes, she worked hard in deplorable conditions to help others and certainly deserved recognition for that work. She is fortunate to have Ethel and Barb to support her, though the two women often feel more like props than real people. Yet I found that Frankie doesn’t offer the same kind of support to new nurses arriving in Vietnam. Once back in the U.S. she relies on Barb and Ethel who, more than once, fly out to help and support her. But then when Barb’s brother dies, Frankie sends only a letter?! She just seems selfish and self-centred.

I did appreciate that the author treated the complexities of the Vietnam War in a fair manner. She does mention the American atrocities and the lies of the politicians. She does mention the suffering of Vietnamese civilians. She shows that Vietnam veterans often received a cold, indifferent, or hostile homecoming, markedly different from the heroes' welcome given to previous generations. Clearly her message is that it should be possible to support the warriors while still hating the war.

I was disappointed because instead of historical fiction, the book often reads more like a romance. Women’s roles in the Vietnam War and their struggles once home deserve to be highlighted, but this novel does not do these topics justice, instead opting for cheesy romances and an unrealistic but happy resolution.

Review of THE BRINK OF SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL by Bobbi French (New Release)

 4 Stars

Readers who enjoyed the author’s previous novel, The Good Women of Safe Harbour, will also like this one.

It is 1999 in St. John’s, Newfoundland. Fifty-year-old Ruby Nolan is newly widowed. She is battling mixed emotions: she grieves the loss of her husband Joe but she also feels a sense of freedom from a marriage she never wanted. Ruby meets 18-year-old Maxine who knew Joe through his job as a penitentiary guard. The pregnant Maxine reminds Ruby of herself when she too was pregnant at a young age. She makes it her mission to help Maxine but it’s questionable whether she is trying to help the young woman or herself. Both her mother Vera and a friend tell her she must first take care of herself and deal with her own issues before helping someone else deal with hers.

Ruby is a likeable character. From the way she tries to help Maxine and the way she cares for her mother, who is suffering from dementia, it is obvious Ruby is loving, kind and compassionate. She is intelligent; not only did she earn the position of director of medical records at a hospital but she has a wide breadth of knowledge as shown in her excelling at trivia. She is a believable character because she has flaws which she acknowledges as the novel progresses. She speaks of being tied to her husband by grief and guilt and pity and penance. She knows that she is too concerned about the judgments of others.

Dynamic characters always appeal to me and Ruby is that. The novel shows her on a mid-life journey of discovery. She learns about herself and others. For instance, she seems focused on her unhappiness in her marriage but comes to realize that there was joy and that she underestimated and undervalued her husband. She also comes to see her mother in a different way and to view a family tragedy as not her fault.

Ruby is the narrator, but interspersed are some first-person chapters from Maxine’s perspective. I found myself frequently being frustrated with Maxine’s choices, but I had to keep in mind that she is in her late teens. Seeing her point of view means that though I did not agree with her decisions, I understood her motivation. However, is it realistic that she wouldn’t know about dementia or that she calls a concussion a percussion?

The characterization of Cory, Maxine’s partner, is well done. He’s not an admirable person, but the author makes an attempt to not portray him as totally villainous. For instance, Maxine believes that he is scared about the birth of his child and Ruby notices that he seems beaten down with “sad, lifeless eyes [which] hinted at suffering that had begun long before.” Cory’s life, as well as those of Ruby and Maxine, emphasizes the theme of intergenerational trauma.

Intimate partner and gender-based violence are a focus in the book. More than one character is a victim. However, I did find that sometimes there is a heavy-handedness to the message. Ruby thinks about “the dangerous lives of women” and how women must learn “how to bob and weave and cajole and soothe the ego of the weakest creature on the planet.” Ruby and her friends discuss the importance of women helping women because “Who else had boots on the ground? Not the cops and the judges. Not the politicians and priests. All those brave, righteous men, standing around holding their dicks while we were dying in droves.”

Besides actually referencing the village of Safe Harbour, the novel has thematic similarities with The Good Women of Safe Harbour: intergenerational friendships, found family, and the power of female friendship. The message of French’s first novel is that one should live the life of one’s own choosing and that too is a message in The Brink of Something Beautiful. At the end of the novel there is hope that Ruby, unbound from duty, can make her own choices for her life and salvage some of what she believes she lost because her life was constrained by time and place and circumstances and her own personality.

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

Review of INTO THE DARK by Ørjan Karlsson

 3.5 Stars

This is the second book in the Arctic Mysteries series after Into Thin Air which I reviewed a few days ago.

In the small coastal village of Kjerringøy in northern Norway, a mutilated body is found in the water. About the same time, about 30kms away, a young woman is found dead in her apartment in Bodø from an apparent suicide. Jakob Weber and his colleagues, Noora, Armann and Fine, investigate both cases. When a link is found between the victims, the team needs to consider that there could also be a connection between their deaths. And then the body count rises.

Readers would be wise to read Into Thin Air first. The main characters, of course, are introduced in the first book, but there are links to the case in that novel and a suspect in that case re-appears. Noora, for instance, was seriously injured and though she has returned to work, there is concern that she has not fully recovered either physically or psychologically. This becomes a source of tension: will she be able to assist her colleagues in a dangerous situation?

As in the previous book, the personal lives of the main characters are described. Jakob now has his teenaged half-brother, Ola André, living with him so that has required some adjustments, as has his tentative relationship with Sigrid, a journalist. Armann, on the other hand, is worried about his marriage since he and his wife seem to be drifting apart. I enjoy these glimpses into their home lives; they never overshadow the cases being investigated but make the characters more relatable.

Again, multiple points of view are presented, including that of the perpetrator. And also, as in the previous book, there are unanswered questions at the end. I mentioned in my review of Into Thin Air that I was especially anxious to learn more about Stein-Jarle’s discovery. As I read Into the Dark I kept looking for clues as to who the policeman might be and I have my suspicions, but I’ll have to wait for the next book to learn if I’m correct.

This novel has all the characteristics of Nordic Noir. It has the gloomy mood and the bleak landscape; for example, the mountains around the village seem brooding and menacing. And the storyline is dark. The violence and psychological trauma depicted reminded me of elements found in The Silence of the Lambs and in the Criminal Minds television series.

This book grabs readers from the beginning; the prologue indicates this will have lots of creepiness. People who enjoy intense, unsettling reads with disturbing details will love this book. And be prepared for a cliffhanger ending.

Review of INTO THIN AIR by Ørjan Karlsson

 3.5 Stars

This is the first of a new series known as Arctic Mysteries set in northern Norway.

A young woman, Iselin Hanssen, disappears during a run in Bodø, a town located just north of the Arctic Circle. Jakob Weber, Chief Investigator of the Nordland Police, leads the investigation. Before long, Marte Moi, a social media influencer, goes missing in similar circumstances, though this time on the small island of Røst, about 100 kms further north. Are these cases connected? And could there even be a connection to a woman’s disappearance 30 years earlier?

Jakob is assisted by three others. He has worked with Armann Femris and Josefine Skog in the past but Noora Yun Sande, who has transferred from Oslo, is a new addition to the team. Their boss is Konrad Råkstad, whose nickname is The Crow. I liked how each member of the team emerges as a distinct individual, sometimes with personal struggles. Josefine, for instance, has to balance work and motherhood when her young daughter falls ill. Noora is fleeing some traumatic experience in Oslo. Armann strikes me as a bit unruly, whereas The Crow is the least sympathetic character because of his autocratic manner.

Since this is the first of a series, character development is very important; readers must find the protagonist someone they want to follow. Still grieving the death of his wife, Jakob is trying to figure out how to move on. The unexpected arrival of a young man at his door will obviously challenge him. Professionally, Jakob is experienced and dedicated and exudes a calm, composed demeanor under pressure, signaling reliability and skill. His strong leadership skills mean he is highly regarded. His compassion also stands out.

The novel is narrated from multiple points of view. Besides Jakob, Armann, and Noora’s perspectives, those of Iselin and other people (Peder and Stein-Jarle) connected to the events are included. Even a killer’s point of view is provided in several chapters, though what clouds the picture is that the time period of the perpetrator’s actions is not always clear.

The pace is slow at the beginning, but there is a gradual increase in pace. As readers realize the dangers faced by victims and Noora, tension increases. Several shady, suspicious characters emerge so readers have a number of suspects from which to choose.

Violence against women is a major theme. Virtually every woman introduced is a victim of violence in some form: invasion of privacy, an abusive relationship, rape and torture, death. Some scenes are described in rather graphic detail. The book also touches on social media. Jakob, for instance, thinks about how people can make themselves vulnerable by sharing their lives on social media. And sometimes comments and speculation online can interfere with an ongoing investigation.

There are some issues that bothered me. Discoveries are made because of witnesses that come forward at convenient times. And there’s the information about a vehicle’s registration number that, even Jakob admits, could have been learned sooner. I’m also unconvinced that Peder’s call to the police is credible; his motivation is clear but, given all the factors, would he risk drawing attention as he does? The truth about one character I guessed early on because it’s become a trope in psychological suspense thrillers. On the other hand, the fate of one character was totally unexpected and left me wishing he could have continued in retirement mode.

By chance, my husband and I have started planning a trip to Norway. The author’s descriptions of the landscape of northern Norway are wonderful. I am now thinking we should travel further north than we had first considered.

There are unanswered questions at the end so readers are being directed to the next book in the series. I’m especially anxious to learn more about Stein-Jarle’s discovery. Since this was a satisfying read, I will definitely be moving on to Into the Dark.