Review of DANDELION by Jamie Chai Yun Liew

3.5 Stars 

This was a 2025 Canada Reads selection chosen to be read by my book club.

In 1988, Swee Hua leaves her husband Ah Loy and her daughters, Lily and Bea. Lily, the narrator, is 11 years old when her mother disappears and is never heard from again. Twenty years later, Lily, a new mother, sets out to find Swee Hua.

The novel is divided into three parts. The first part, entitled “Before,” shows the family before Swee Hua’s departure. The family lives in Sparwood, a small mining town in British Columbia. Ah Loy wants them to blend into the Canadian life, but Swee Hua longs to return to Brunei. The second part, entitled “Now,” focuses on Lily as a young mother wishing her own mother were there to help her adjust to motherhood, a desire that sets her on her search. The last section, entitled “See,” describes Lily’s travels to Southeast Asia and her discoveries there.

The novel examines the complexities of the immigrant experience. I appreciated the contrasting views presented by Lily’s parents. Ah Loy is devoted to Canada because it gave him citizenship which he’d not had in Brunei. He largely rejects his ethnic heritage. He tends to be blind to some of the problems within Canada. Swee Hua, on the other hand, hates almost everything about Canada. She feels isolated from her family so she longs to leave and return to Southeast Asia. She tends to romanticize China, turning it almost into a fantasy land.

Other topics are also explored. For example, racism is highlighted. As a child, Lily is ostracized because of her ethnicity, and Swee Hua also faces discrimination. Depression, especially post-partum depression, and motherhood and identity are also addressed.

The novel’s slow pace is problematic. There is, for instance, a lot of repetition. In the first part there are repeated scenes of racism and disagreements between Ah Loy and Swee Hua about life in Canada. In the later sections, there is constant reference to Lily’s difficulties as a new mother. Then virtually every character questioned states s/he knows nothing about Swee Hua’s whereabouts. The many food references become tedious; some paragraphs just list foods: “Hot woks fried blood cockles for char kuey teow, a mortar and pestle ground peanuts for tangy rojack, succulent satay smoke on the grill, popiah were rolled up on wooden cutting boards, sweet and sour asam laksa simmered in a large pot, and layered kueh lapis in a rainbow of colours beamed from a refrigerated counter.”

The writing style does not impress. There is a lot more telling than showing. Dialogue is awkward because it’s used as exposition to give background information. Metaphors tend to be clunky. For example, Lily says, “I remember my teacher last year, Mrs. Henry, telling us knapweed was a noxious and non-native species that was invading the valley. It may have been unwanted, but it was vibrant and strong.” On the previous page, Ah Loy describes his Hakka tribe: “’Like a dandelion, the Hakka can land anywhere, take root in the poorest soil, flourish and flower.’” It’s obvious that neither is actually talking about weeds. Two white women who shun Swee Hua discuss a room divider: “’It’s quite ornate. Hand-painted and Oriental looking. It’s quite fetching . . . I just love how a little exotic touch can add so much to a plain room.’” It’s impossible to miss the irony.

The book touches on some important issues; I just wish the execution were more polished.

Review of HOW TO GET AWAY WITH MURDER by Rebecca Philipson (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This book’s premise is singular but its execution not so.

Samantha Hansen is a Scotland Yard detective. She has been on leave because of mental health issues, but insists on returning when she learns of the murder of 14-year-old Charlotte Mathers. Found in her backpack is a copy of a book, How to Get Away with Murder, by Denver Brady. The author, a self-proclaimed serial killer, details his methodology and his past victims. Sam is tasked with finding Brady to determine if he’s the killer or if there’s a copycat at work.

Chapters alternate between Brady’s how-to manual and Sam’s investigation. The pacing in the middle is uneven. There’s a lot of repetition, some of which is confusing. What’s the significance of different characters discussing the buoyancy of water and Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream? And it’s sometimes difficult to keep track of Brady’s various victims as described in his book. There’s definitely overuse of the trope of characters being interrupted in their conversation just as one of them wants to convey something important. Then there’s the conversation with a YouTuber who says he feels like a character being cheaply thrown into a scene; this chat feels like a fourth wall break, especially with the addition of Sam’s comment about loving plot twists.

Characterization could be stronger. Sam has positive traits: she is intelligent and persistent and sensitive. She also struggles with PTSD. At the beginning, she experiences physical symptoms like headaches and the taste of salt, symptoms that are mentioned again and again. Readers will feel sympathetic, especially because her being assaulted by a colleague was handled unfairly. But then Sam’s symptoms just seem to disappear without sufficient explanation. Of course, I do understand the need for vagueness in detailing Sam’s “journey” but it may contribute to the plot twist feeling somewhat artificial.

I found myself getting frustrated with Sam’s slow reading of Brady’s instructional guide. Her repeated excuse is that she has difficulty concentrating, but surely reading the book would be an essential first step in the investigation. So much of Brady’s personality is revealed in the book: his pretentiousness and sense of superiority, as well as his misogyny and homophobia, are obvious. When his identity is revealed, it’s really not a surprise.

The ending, on the other hand, may come as a surprise to readers though there are certainly a lot of clues, especially references to there being no rest for the wicked and to Sam’s feelings of injustice. But it’s the use of a bonus chapter that bothers me: since it cannot have been written by the same person, is it added to a second edition or a follow-up book? And how does that bonus chapter connect to Sam’s diatribe about criminals being able to change their names and become untraceable?

This is not a bad book and it will certainly leave readers questioning, but there are some elements that feel contrived.

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

Review of LIBERTY STREET by Heather Marshall (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This is the first book I’ve read by this Canadian author and I came away impressed by this historical fiction which alternates between two timelines.

In 1961, Emily Radcliffe is an editorial assistant with Chatelaine magazine. In order to investigate rumors of horrific conditions in the Mercer Women’s Prison, Emily goes undercover. She has her father tell a judge that Emily is uninterested in marriage, disregards curfew, and has no respect for authority so is in need of reform. This claim is sufficient to get her sent to the prison for six months. What she uncovers, she is certain will launch her career as a journalist.

In 1996, unidentified female remains are discovered in an unmarked grave in a small-town cemetery. Detective Rachel Mackenzie is tasked with unraveling the mystery. Her investigation leads to the now-shuttered Mercer Women’s Prison. At the same time Rachel is still dealing with the trauma of a family tragedy, details of which are slowly revealed through flashbacks to the 1980s.

A major question throughout is how the two stories will connect. Is the body that of one of the women in the prison during Emily’s time there? Rachel’s backstory, on the other hand, feels unnecessary. Her complicated and difficult relationship with her mother I found a distraction. Yes, it does touch on mental health issues, but there’s sufficient examination of that topic without this addition.

I appreciate how much research the author did for this novel. As explained by the lengthy Author’s Note at the end, the characters are based on real people. I enjoyed the portrayal of Doris Anderson, the long-time editor of Chatelaine, a magazine my mother read faithfully all her life. And the deplorable prison conditions depicted in the novel are based on actual conditions uncovered in the Andrew Mercer Reformatory.

I want historical fiction to enlighten me and that is certainly the case here. In particular, I learned about the Female Refuges Act, an oppressive law that made it easy to institutionalize women for subjective misbehaviour. Prostitution or pregnancy outside marriage were offenses but a parent could bring before a judge any female under 25 who was deemed unmanageable or incorrigible.

What is emphasized is the lack of women’s rights. Women had few choices; what was expected is that they conform to society’s expectations. The author notes that the prison was intended to reform women: “to instill the valued feminine virtues of the era – namely subjugation and docility – in the name of reform.”

I did have some issues with characterization. One character, Dr. Eris Stone, is almost a cartoon villain because she has no redeeming qualities. And then there’s Emily who is too naive. She is convinced that she will be given a 3-month sentence and that she’ll be able to cause a public uproar with her story. Even after all she’s heard and her own experiences with Dr. Stone, it never occurs to her that she could jeopardize her release by confronting the doctor? I understand that her naivety propels the plot and creates suspense, but it’s as if her time in prison has had no effect on her. Emily acknowledges being “green and naive and bursting at the seams with idealism” but it’s a bit late.

Sometimes the novel feels somewhat heavy-handed in its development of theme. For example, “Women who came from broken homes and poverty, who were ill in the mind or body. She could see now how those things limited a person’s opportunities, dictated the direction of her life as they forced her down paths that were rockier, darker and more dangerous than the ones Emily had been allowed to traverse” and “society always calls a woman crazy when she knows she is right about something, or when, like the ill-fated Cassandra of lore, she sees something the others cannot – or will not.” I prefer less telling and more showing; there should be no need to tell the reader what is already made obvious by events.

Despite some weaknesses, this book is a worthwhile read. It sheds light on women’s rights (or lack thereof) in the 1960s, on the conditions in reformatories, and on the treatment (or lack thereof) of mental illness.

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

Review of MORE THAN ENOUGH by Anna Quindlen (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This novel didn’t resonate with me as much as did the author’s previous one, After Annie (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2024/03/review-of-after-annie-by-anna-quindlen.html).

Polly Goodman, in her early 40s, is an English teacher in a girls’ private school in Manhattan; she is married to Mark, a veterinarian at the Bronx Zoo. Polly loves her job and her marriage is a happy one. She does, however, desperately want to have a child, but her biological clock is winding down and fertility treatments have not been successful. Other concerns are her strained relationship with her mother, her father’s worsening dementia, and her best friend’s illness. And there’s also the DNA test she took which has a surprising result.

The plot meanders and so lacks focus. There are several subplots, some of which seem unnecessary. For instance, the Josephine story seems irrelevant. The displacement of the in-laws needs to be detailed so much when it’s only real purpose is to bring Lou and Sarah together? And do we really need so much information about alpacas? With all these side stories for various characters, the plot feels scattered. This impression is not helped by the time shifts as the narrative constantly moves back and forth between past and present. And then there’s the unnecessary repetition: the gossip chain in Mark’s family, the housesitting for Sarah, the book club that requires members not to read the books, etc.

Polly is the narrator. She has several positive traits: she’s sensitive, thoughtful, kind, and compassionate. Her brother describes her as strong, smart, and dependable. Unfortunately, though I sympathized with her at first, I eventually became annoyed with her. Her desire to have a biological child seems an obsession, though I will admit that my never wanting to have children may add to my frustration with her. And she is so oblivious to her blind spots, especially as concerns her mother, even after Garrison, Mark, and her therapist try to warn her. She makes offhand comments like, “The thing about family: Lots of times someone was doing something behind your back, for your own good, even when it didn’t feel that way” without connecting that observation to her own mother. Then there’s the whole genealogy question; Polly totally ignores the obvious explanation. She is married to an expert in genetics, yet they never have a discussion that could have clarified everything very quickly?!

The number of too-good-to-be-believable characters is a problem. There’s the perfect mother-in-law, the perfect best friend, and the perfect husband. The character who most interested me is Garrison. Chapter 22, in which Garrison speaks very bluntly to his sister, had me cheering. It’s telling that Polly’s response is to run home to her bed. On the topic of characters, is it credible that a judge, someone who must be rational, intelligent, and must possess strong analytical skills, does not ever question such a significant event in her own life?

The ending is very tidy, too tidy for my tastes. Given the details revealed and repeated in the past, Polly’s news seems incredible. The title suggests that a major theme is the importance of practising gratitude, and this outcome left me wondering if she has learned this lesson or would she continue to be unhappy with her lot if things did not work as they apparently do. Polly has more than enough in her life; she has a rewarding career, a happy marriage to an unfailingly supportive husband, loyal and generous friends, strong family support, and enough everyday experiences that should bring her joy. She scoffs at a comment made by a student’s mother because it suggests a lack of understanding of true tragedy; the irony, of course, is that she herself focuses on what is wrong with her life instead of being grateful for what she already has.  Her attitude belies her surname.

This is not a bad book. The prose is engaging, but there are too many tangential stories. I’m certain the reader is to empathize with the main character, but I found myself losing patience with her. (Perhaps that reveals more about me than Polly?) Though entertaining in parts, the plot’s arc is predictable and the ending too neat.

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

Review of ADRIFT by Will Dean (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This is an emotionally exhausting psychological drama about domestic abuse.

In 1994 in the Illinois/Indiana/Kentucky area, Drew and Peggy Jenkins and their teenage son Samson live on a rundown canal boat. Drew is a controlling and abusive man who uses isolation, intimidation, and gaslighting to undermine his wife. With no financial resources, Peggy is totally dependent on her husband but desperate to get away with her son. The situation becomes increasingly untenable when Peggy, an aspiring writer like Drew, has a publisher interested in her novel.

The novel alternates between the perspectives of Peggy and Samson so the reader gets to understand them quite well. Peggy loves her son and wants to take him away from Drew’s influence. Samson is bullied at school and dreams of escape as well; his plan is to do well at school so he can go away for further studies. What bothered me about Peggy is that she seems rather naive and oblivious. Samson is being badly bullied at school, but she is “grateful he likes his new school as much as he does.” Even when she witnesses her son being a target of bullies, she makes light of it: “Thank God those kids were only calling him names.” And it never occurs to her how angry and jealous Drew will be when he learns about her success in writing? The logical thing to do would be to keep her novel a secret and to use the money to facilitate an escape.

The character of Drew is problematic. He is adept at psychological manipulation; he lies, denies past events, twists facts, shifts blame, and is dismissive of Peggy’s feelings. He doesn’t want Peggy to have a paying job. He isolates his family by continuously moving the boat further and further away from the town. He even rations food, heat and water. Unfortunately, he becomes almost a cartoon villain because he has no redeeming qualities. Peggy claims he was kind and loving when they first met, but the reader doesn’t see any evidence of these traits; in fact, the book opens with a flashback to 1973 which shows the extent of Drew’s depravity.

A sense of unease permeates the novel from the beginning. The dread only grows further as the boat is moved further away from others who might intervene to help. The small boat (six feet wide and fifty feet long) is claustrophobic; it has no privacy or distance or personal space. The three people are confined and the reader feels restricted as well. The pace is rather slow; in the middle there is just repetition of gaslighting and bullying. Then the resolution is almost deus ex machina where a hero comes to the rescue.

I’m confused about the setting. The novel is set in the U.S. but British terms like kit, instead of sports gear, and biro, instead of pen, are used. Samson eats Cola Cubes, a traditional British candy? Canal boats, especially narrowboats, are common in England. The author is British so why would he choose an American setting for no reason?

This is an unsettling read, but it’s the issues with characterization, a slow pace, and the novel’s climax that bothered me.

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

Review of KIN by Tayari Jones (New Release)

 4 Stars

This novel focuses on the lives of two black women growing up in segregated America in the 1950s and 1960s. Vernice (Niecy) and Annie are motherless girls born in Honeysuckle, Louisiana. Niecy is raised by her maternal aunt after a murder-suicide. Annie is abandoned by her mother Hattie Lee shortly after her birth and so is raised by her maternal grandmother.

As girls, they are inseparable, but afterwards they end up on very divergent paths. Niecy attends college in Atlanta where she ends up joining a sisterhood of powerful women. Marriage into an affluent family seems inevitable. Annie is fixated on finding her mother and just before her high school graduation runs away with friends to Memphis to find her. Despite being separated by distance and eventually by their socio-economic status, their connection is not broken.

The two girls are foil characters. Niecy is guided by reason; cautious and sensible, she has a desire for stability. Annie, on the other hand, is more a wild child guided by passion. She is totally single-minded in wanting to find her mother; it’s almost as if she lacks control of her emotions. Despite their differences, their love for and loyalty to each other is unbreakable.

The novel examines the meaning of kin and argues that a kin is not necessarily a blood relation. Annie states, “Me and Niecy weren’t sisters, and nowhere near twins. I didn’t have what she got nor the other way around. What you have the same isn’t what binds you. Hearts grow strings because of what you know that’s the same, what happened to you that’s the same.” What binds the girls is their sense of abandonment because of the loss of their mothers. Though both have other women who step in to raise them, that sense never leaves them. Annie and Niecy’s actions clearly indicate that they regard each other as their closest kin. The poignant ending is indeed a powerful testimony to friendship.

The book is narrated by both girls in alternating chapters so the reader is privy to their complicated internal lives. Both emerge as authentic characters; they’re human with flaws. Both make choices with which I disagreed but understood and so I hoped for the best for both of them.

The novel is primarily about mothers and daughters and about friendship, but it touches on other topics as well. Racism, poverty, sex work, abortion, sexual orientation, and gender roles are examined.

I very much enjoyed this book. It has beautiful prose, engaging characters, and thematic depth.

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

Review of HARRIET HATES LEMONADE by Kim McCollum (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This book examines emotional abuse.

Harriet Henderson, 52, lives in Bozeman, Montana. After the death of her husband Les, she continues to live by his rigid rules and judgmental opinions. Her isolated, dreary existence, however, comes to an end when Robyn and Chris Carter and their 12-year-old daughter Audrey move into the neighbourhood. One day Audrey asks Harriet for help because she fears for her mother because of Chris’ violent behaviour. Reluctantly, Harriet steps up and decides to help Robyn find safety for herself and her daughter. When she accompanies Robyn to meetings of a support group for abused women, Harriet begins to re-evaluate her own marriage to Les, a man who’d been controlling and unyielding with lots of rules and consequences and demands.

At the beginning, Harriet is unlikeable. She is adamant that rules are followed; she has frequent clashes with neighbours because she doesn’t hesitate to report people who break the rules of the local homeowners’ association. She lacks social skills and bluntly criticizes others, showing no regard for their feelings. As we learn about her life with Les, we come to understand why she behaves as she does and we feel some sympathy for her. As she starts to reflect on her relationship with Les and to take steps, however tentatively at first, to change her attitude towards and treatment of others, we cannot but cheer for her.

To see the transformation in Harriet is heart-warming, though the narrative arc is predictable. From the beginning I found myself thinking of books like A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman and Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand by Helen Simonson. It is not surprising that Harriet reads Elizabeth Strout’s books featuring Olive Kitteridge.

The book offers a lot of information about emotional abuse. I had never heard of the narcissistic cycle of abuse: love bombing, devaluing, discarding, and hoovering. Harriet’s slow realizations about her own marriage emphasize how victims do not always recognize emotional abuse tactics; Harriet, for instance, thinks of abuse only in terms of violent physical behaviour.

The plot is clunky for a number of reasons. Pace, for instance, is uneven. At the beginning, pace is slow. Then there’s a dramatic event, after which the pace quickens considerably. Some changes, like Harriet’s descent into alcoholic states of near unconsciousness, happen so fast as to be unbelievable. Some events seem illogical. Why would Audrey run away from Isla’s? Audrey would show no interest in the trial? Custody hearings can be scheduled virtually overnight? Then there are gaps which affect narrative flow. Characters are mentioned frequently and then are never mentioned again until needed to move the plot. Harriet’s dog is mentioned repeatedly at first and then he virtually disappears for a time. The same is the case for Tammy.

The novel’s examination of emotional abuse is commendable. Harriet’s journey of discovery, about herself and her marriage, is interesting and well developed. It is the later sections that are weaker; narrative structure is clumsy so the overall impression is underwhelming.

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