Review of YEAR OF YES by Shonda Rhimes

2 Stars

Let me begin by stating that I had never heard of Shonda Rhimes, and though I have heard of her television shows, I do not watch them.  I also do not tend to read either memoirs or self-help books so this book is not my usual reading.  I read it because it was chosen by my book club. 

Shonda decided that she was going to spend a year saying yes to all the things (like speaking in public) that terrified her.  She spends the book discussing what she learned and how these things changed her life. 

If you are looking for gems of wisdom, don’t look here.  There is nothing new, just simplistic platitudes you have undoubtedly heard before:  conquer your fears and go outside your comfort zone; cultivate true friendships but say no to toxic relationships; accept compliments and be unapologetic about your abilities and successes; maintain a work/personal life balance; love yourself and speak up for yourself.

There is no doubt that Rhimes is an intelligent, talented, hard-working woman who has accomplished a great deal in her chosen career, but sometimes this book is more self-promotional and self-congratulatory than self-help.  Rather than stimulating thought in the reader, she focuses on a few of the challenges she faced in a year:  appearing on Jimmy Kimmel Live, delivering a convocation speech, being interviewed by Oprah.  Including the full text of three speeches she delivered seems self-indulgent.

The writing style will appeal to some people.   It is conversational in tone with lots of one-word sentences and one-sentence paragraphs.  I, however, found it became very annoying after a while because of its repetitiveness.  Everything is said at least three times:  “I’m competitive.  Not normal-people competitive.  Not friendly competitive.  Scary-psychotic competitive” (31) and “I lean in.  I lean all the way in.  I lean so far in that sometimes I’m lying down” (31) and “He heard me the first time.  You know he did.  I know he did.  We ALL know he did” (60).  The book is a fast read but it could have been much shorter with some judicious editing.  Rhimes learned to speak up for herself but doesn’t seem to know how to express herself succinctly!

Some would consider this my failing, but because I do not watch Shonda’s television shows, there are many references in the book which mean nothing to me.  What is the Chocolate Factory scene in Grey’s Anatomy?  Why does Sandra Oh have to hold a slippery fish so her character on Grey’s Anatomy can regain what she’s lost?  Who is Kerry Washington?  Rhimes goes on and on about the character of Dr. Cristina Yang:  “Cristina Yang was the walking validation of my dreams” (247); this discussion explains nothing to anyone like me who didn’t watch Grey’s Anatomy.  The book was written only for followers of Shonda’s productions? 

There are sections that left me confused.  When beginning her year, Rhimes determined that “I am miserable. . . . I am miserable. Truly, deeply unhappy (23).  Six months later, she tells graduates at her alma mater that “I am truly happy” (85)?  She claims that as a kid she was “way too chubby” (233), but none of the photos show her this way?  In the prologue, she repeats, “See, I am an introvert.  Deep.  To the bone.  My marrow is introvert marrow.  My snot is introvert snot” (xxv).  How, then, did she manage to sell her shows to television executives? 

I wish I had said yes to not finishing this book!

Review of THE GREAT ALONE by Kristin Hannah

3 Stars

The novel begins in 1974 when 13-year-old Leni Allbright moves to Alaska with her parents, Ernt and Cora.  Ernt, a Vietnam vet who was a POW, returned home a damaged man suffering with PTSD.  His flashbacks and nightmares leave him restless to find peace and he thinks that living off-grid in Alaska may provide that.  The three arrive totally unprepared for life in a wilderness cabin with no modern conveniences.  As winter with its almost unrelenting darkness approaches, Leni realizes that danger lies not only in insufficient food supplies, animal predators, and the bitterly cold climate:  “she’d begun to worry as much about the dangers inside of her home as outside of it.”

A strong sense of danger is used from the beginning to create suspense.  The first person they meet tells them, “’Alaska herself can be Sleeping Beauty one minute and a bitch with a sawed-off shotgun the next.  There’s a saying:  Up here you can make one mistake.  The second one will kill you.”  Later they are told, “’Believe me, no matter how much you’ve read and studied, you can never quite prepare for your first Alaskan winter.’”  As expected, the family encounters all the expected dangers.

As darkness and isolation become a daily part of life, Ernt’s mental health deteriorates and Cora and Leni are constantly on edge:  “it was like living with a wild animal. . . . The natural-born predator could seem domesticated, even friendly, could lick your throat affectionately or rub up against you to get a back scratch.  But you knew, or should know, that it was a wild thing you lived with, that a collar and leash and a bowl of food might tame the actions of the beast, but couldn’t change its essential nature.  In a split second, less time than it took to exhale a breath, that wolf could claim its nature and turn, fangs bared.  It was exhausting to worry all the time, to study Dad’s every movement and the tone of his voice.”

The problem is that the author keeps piling on the trauma so the reader may feel as if he/she is suffering from a minor case of PTSD.  It’s as if Hannah wants the reader to cry and then cry some more.  The story, which begins well, deteriorates into an overwrought and melodramatic narrative.  There’s certainly a Romeo and Juliet element to the love story between Leni and Matthew.  Then, to reward the reader for his/her emotional distress, Hannah devises an overly dramatic, almost miraculous, happy ending worthy of a Hallmark movie. 

The book explores domestic violence.   I was not convinced, however, by the repeated suggestion that Ernt’s experiences in Vietnam made him a monster; more accurate is the description that “those are all excuses set at the feet of a man who is just rotting from the inside.”  Cora is in many ways a typical abuse victim who keeps forgiving her husband, but there is a problem with her behaviour:  she refuses to do anything about her situation until something happens and then she reacts dramatically.  The reason she gives for her change means, in fact, that she should have done something after the incident with the hare’s heart.  Then, after taking the action she does, she seems to suffer less than one would expect.  I also expected Leni to have more resentment towards her mother for the type of life she forces her daughter to live for so long. 

The most positive aspect of the book is its descriptions of Alaska’s natural beauty:  “Waves lapping the muddy beach left a sparkling residue.  On the opposite shore, the mountains were a lush, deep purple at their bases and stark white at their peaks.”  With the repeated references to blue-white glaciers and cerulean skies and “the exquisite, breathtaking beauty,” it is not surprising that Leni forms a connection to the land.  

The description of Alaska’s people seems less realistic.  Is absolutely everyone living there an oddball?  In the book there’s a big-city prosecutor who takes “showers at the Laundromat” and runs a “store that would have welcomed Laura Ingalls Wilder” and a university economics professor who captains a fishing boat and a NYC police officer who lives in broken-down school bus and reads palms:  “If you wanted to pray to a weirdo god or live in a school bus or marry a goose, no one in Alaska was going to say crap to you.”  Many of the characters would be perfect for the spate of reality shows set in Alaska.

Like many of these reality shows, the book becomes overly melodramatic.  That over-emotionalism did not appeal but I persevered; unfortunately, my only reward was a totally unrealistic ending.

Review of ONLY LIES REMAIN by Val Collins (New Release)

1 Star

I finished this book only because I received a copy of the book on the understanding that I would review it.  There are so many issues with it that I don’t know where to begin.

Aoife Walsh learns that her father-in-law’s body has been discovered; Danny had disappeared 15 years earlier but his wife Maura assumed he was alive because she has been receiving monthly envelopes of cash ever since.  Since Danny went missing just after a robbery at the bank at which he worked, the police suspect he was involved; they also think that Maura may have information about Danny which she has kept hidden.  Aoife decides to help her mother-in-law by doing her own investigation, but she soon learns that Maura has indeed been keeping secrets.  Aoife ends up taking a job with Cian Mannion, the son of Danny’s former boss, thinking he may have useful information as well.  While all of this is going on, Aoife and her husband Jason are experiencing marital difficulties.  After an absence, Jason has moved back in, but things do not go well.

A major problem is that Aoife is so stupid.  At one point, a character says, “’Poor Aoife!  You’re not very bright, are you?’”  That is an understatement.  She takes a job with a man who will pay her only in cash.  That man is supposedly an art critic but he thinks that someone who does copies of great paintings will be famous one day?!  Jason is totally selfish and gives her such flimsy excuses for wanting to live with her, yet Aoife lets him stay?  As part of an investigation, she checks a phone record and at the end says, “’Contacted everyone on list . . . No information.’”  Then, almost immediately, someone else discovers that Cian’s number is on the list.  So Aoife missed it?!

No one behaves in a normal manner.  Maura doesn’t know the date of her best friend’s birthday?!  A woman who admits she has known someone “for a short time” spends three days writing that person’s eulogy which takes “twenty-four minutes to read”?  Aoife hasn’t seen a young man in a month; when she sees him, she notices that “He’d outgrown the awkward teenage stage.”  Decorations, balloons, and candles on a cake are used for adult birthday parties to ensure “the whole kids’ birthday party experience”?!  Someone wanting to hide a “mound of paintings” for one night would go through the trouble of hanging them in his bedroom for that night?  And because there is insufficient room for all of the paintings on “the wall,” he puts two paintings in some frames to keep the paintings from being damaged?  A man wanting to stop a woman from making a phone call would approach her with “both arms held at shoulder height in front of him, palms facing her”?  At a Mass devoted to prayers for her son’s return, a mother would take photos?  The parents of a groom would take photos at their son’s wedding?  Aoife is served tea in her own home “from a large teapot Aoife had never seen before”?

There are bizarre conversations throughout the book.  Aoife and her best friend Orla have prolonged conversations in which they speculate as to what could have happened; it’s obvious the writer is trying to create suspense by suggesting any number of suspects, but the speculations lack any sense of logic.  Sometimes conversations make no sense whatsoever.  For example, Jason tells Aoife, “’I became the person you needed, Aoife. . . . you needed someone to do everything for you, so that’s the person I became. . . . Now you need me to be somebody else, I can become that person too. . . . all I’m saying is I don’t adapt to change easily.  I stupidly tried to keep our relationship the way it used to be because I thought that was the only way it would work.  Now I see that it can’t work that way, I’ll change.’”  Someone would say about a woman in a photo, “’I certainly didn’t know her well, and I don’t remember the face.  Did she live locally?” and “’I don’t know her.  I don’t ever remember seeing her before.’” 

Portraying police as inept is such a cheap way of suggesting that others (Aoife) are better able to conduct an investigation.  The reader is supposed to believe that a police officer would actually have no idea that a murder victim’s phone calls might help identify his killer?  Another police officer cannot but give a woman confidential information about a case because that woman is beautiful and charming?  He goes so far as to decide, without any proof, that he will consider her the next of kin of a victim!  A police officer would deliver good news to a panicking person by beginning with, “’Are you sitting down’”?!  The police wouldn’t take a victim’s laptop as part of their investigation? 

Sometimes, there is a total lack of logic.  For instance, there is this nonsensical description of a job:  “It was a four-day-a-week role, but for the first six months, Maura would work three days and Aoife would work one.  At first they would work together while Aoife taught her how to run an office.  After a few weeks, Maura would work alone and Aoife would come in on one of her days off to pick up the slack until Maura was fully up to speed”?  How can they work together if Aoife is only working one day and already has another job for 3 days a week?  If Maura can work alone only after a few weeks, how can she work three days for the first six months?

The above paragraph is just one indication of how much editing the book needs.    Wrong characters are named so there are strange sentences like “Maura left the room and returned with a photo album more than twice the size of Maura’s.”  There are redundancies like “they had all Tadhg’s worldly possessions piled into two boxes.  Maura wiped her eyes.   ‘So little.  That’s all his possessions in the entire world.’”  There’s the grammar:  “Tadhg’s personal belongings will be divided between the lads” even though there are several lads among whom to divide.  Verb tense is problematic because the same event will be described once in the past tense and then in the past perfect tense.   In the Acknowledgments there is reference to an editor and proofreader but I must disagree that they did a “marvellous job”!

I hate false advertising!  The book is described as the work of an “award-winning” author or as the work of the author who wrote the “award-winning” book entitled Girl Targeted.  A bit of research led me to discover that Girl Targeted was self-published and given a B.R.A.G. medallion; authors submit a book and pay a fee of $75 and if the book meets supposedly high standards, it will be given that medallion.  Apparently, “On average, only 20-25% of the books we consider are awarded our B.R.A.G. Medallion” (https://www.bragmedallion.com/about/).  This is hardly what I consider a literary award!

I cannot recommend a book with such a lack of logic. 

Note:  I received a digital galley via BookSirens.

Review of THE CROSSING by Matt Brolly (New Release)

3.5 Stars

I’ve not read any of the author’s previous books, but this one has inspired me to check them out.

Detective Inspector Louise Blackwell has been transferred from Bristol to the seaside town of Weston-super-Mare.  When an older woman is found murdered, Louise is put in charge of the investigation which quickly becomes more complicated when an elderly priest is killed.  Both bodies have similar injuries, and there are suspicions that there may be more victims to come.  Louise is anxious to prove herself in her murder case since her transfer.

Louise’s life, both professional and personal, is developed.  Her transfer from Bristol is the result of an unfair judgment in a previous case, so she must deal with this demotion.  She does not feel at home in Weston and is not fully comfortable with her colleagues.  Louise is trying to escape the influence of a previous partner whom she knows will try to insert himself into her current investigation if she does not solve it quickly.  And there are concerns about her widowed brother whose struggles are putting his daughter’s welfare in jeopardy. 

The narrative alternates between Louise’s perspective and that of the murderer.  His identity is revealed early in the book, but the reason for his actions is not.  There are clues from the beginning; for example, there are statements like “The warmth and security made him sentimental, made him forget what his mother had done” and “He had to save his father.”  Much of my interest in the book lay in trying to put together all the clues to figure out the motivation.  This structure made me think of episodes of Criminal Minds.

There were a couple of issues that bothered me.  After the discovery at the first victim’s home, wouldn’t a toxicology report be requested?  There is an autopsy but never any reference to a toxicology screen.  And that discovery is never explained.  There is also some awkward diction; in Chapter 11, the word “object” is used three times:  “He ran his hand across one part of the object” and “he would have to wait until nearer the time to complete the object” and “he spent another hour working on the object before locking up.”  The word is used several times throughout the book.  Obviously, the point is not to identify the object because it is central to Geoffrey’s plans, but perhaps just a reference to a wood-working project would have been better. 

I read the book in one day; it is a quick but absorbing read.  I will certainly read The Descent, the next book in the series which I understand is due for release this summer.

Note:  I received a digital galley from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Review of COURTING MR. LINCOLN by Louis Bayard (New Paperback Release)

4 Stars

Set in Springfield, Illinois in the 1840s, this book fictionalizes the romance between Abraham Lincoln and Mary Todd, his future wife, and the friendship between him and Joshua Speed, a merchant and Lincoln’s landlord and bedmate.  Speed finds his purpose in life in educating Lincoln on how to be a gentleman; he teaches him etiquette and how to dress properly.  Tensions arise between the two when Lincoln meets Mary and begins courting her.  The courtship has a number of problems, some of which are instigated by Speed because he sees Mary as a rival for Lincoln’s affections.

The narrative alternates between Mary and Speed’s points of view.  This technique fills in gaps.  For instance, Mary is sometimes confused about Lincoln’s behaviour; Speed’s perspective then explains what Mary doesn’t know.   I found Speed’s sections more compelling.  His interactions with Lincoln are natural and relaxed whereas Mary and Lincoln’s relationship lacks that ease, though much of the awkwardness can be attributed to the constraints of acceptable behaviour between the sexes.

What emerges is a complex portrait of Lincoln as seen by two people who love him.  Speed describes him as someone “with not a scrap of affectation or unnaturalness in him.  He is purely what he is and thinks more deeply, more searchingly than anybody I know.”  When Mary first meets Lincoln, she sees “An El Greco frame, stretched beyond sufferance.  A mournful well of eye.  A face of bones, all badgering to break through.”  He is not her romantic ideal, but she becomes interested and then fascinated, though Lincoln is insecure because of his background and feels unworthy of Mary.  In his interactions with both people, Lincoln shows himself to be intelligent, determined, and compassionate.  In the end, it is a supporter’s description that perhaps best describes the future president:  “a great man – large of mind and large of soul.” 

Speed and Mary also emerge as fully developed characters.  Speed is witty and charming, the life of parties.  He recognizes the potential in the awkward, unpolished man he first meets, though he does not always understand himself very well.  He takes actions, like informing on Mary to her sister, without fully understanding his motivation.  Mary is intelligent and opinionated, especially about politics which are her passion.  Because of her spirited nature, she struggles with the restrictions placed on her because of her gender.

I loved the elegant prose.  In many ways, it reminded me of that of Jane Austen.  The dialogue is also similar; much is left unsaid.  There is much humour in the conversational exchanges, especially between Speed and Lincoln.  The dance and etiquette lessons are hilarious. 

I really enjoyed the book.  My only regret is that my knowledge of the American political system is lacking.  Not being American, I don’t know much about the Whig party and the various politicians mentioned in the novel; as a result, many of the political discussions meant little to me.  Based on what I do know about Lincoln, the novel’s portrayal seems historically accurate.  I am inspired to read more about Mary Todd to compare this fictional representation with her historical record. 

Note:  I received a digital galley from the publisher prior to the book’s paperback release on Feb. 11.

Review of THE LAST ROMANTICS by Tara Conklin

3 Stars

The novel begins in 2079 when centenarian poet Fiona Skinner, at a literary event, is asked a question about her most famous poem.  Fiona answers by telling her life story.  She begins by discussing her father’s sudden death and her mother’s subsequent depression.  Because of their mother’s withdrawal, Fiona and her three siblings are left to themselves for a couple of years.  That period, called The Pause, sets the pattern for much of their lives.

Renee, the eldest, becomes the substitute parent and her sense of responsibility motivates her choice of career.  Caroline is the frightened one who takes refuge in marriage and a family.  Joe is devastated by the loss of his father but isn’t able to recover because he is expected to protect his sisters; as a result his psychological life remains fragile though he outwardly has all the advantages.  Fiona, the youngest, is coddled and lives in books and worlds created by her imagination; as an adult, she drifts unfocused through much of life, though writing eventually brings her success. 

The book examines the evolving relationships among the siblings.  As children they are inseparable, but as adults they drift apart, come together, and drift apart again.  They keep secrets from each other, presumably to protect each other but, inevitably, these secrets/lies lead to emotional distancing.  Consequently, they are not always able to provide support when it is most needed. 

None of the four siblings is especially likeable or sympathetic.  Fiona’s blog can only be described as despicable; Joe’s lifestyle, shallow; Renee’s ambition, all-consuming; and Caroline’s lack of self-knowledge, depressing.  The girls’ treatment of men, the men with whom they have romantic/sexual relationships, is disturbing.  Yes, they were impacted by The Pause, but eventually it is appropriate that they move on and take personal responsibility for their choices. 

The book examines love.  At first Fiona states that her story is “about the failures of love” and she speaks about learning “the ways in which love might disappear.”  She goes so far as to state that “’The love of your life is always the one you have betrayed the most.  The love that defines you is the one upon whom you once turned your back.’”  Renee asks, “Why didn’t people understand the responsibility that came with being the subject of someone’s love?”  In the end Fiona states the theme quite directly:  “I was wrong to tell you that this is a story about the failures of love.  No, it is about real love, true love.  Imperfect, wretched, weak love.  No fairy tales, no poetry. . . . This then is the true lesson:  there is nothing romantic about love.  Only the most naïve believe it will save them.  Only the hardiest of us will survive it.”

Sections of the novel are interesting; the childhood part is certainly one of those.  Others are much less so.  Point of view is puzzling; Fiona is the first-person narrator of the story, yet portions, like Joe’s time in Miami, give information she could not possibly know.  This occasional switching to third person omniscient is jarring because of the frame narrative technique employed. 

I was not impressed by Conklin’s The House Girl when I read it a couple of years ago, but I thought I’d give the author a second chance.  This sophomore novel is better, but I found it difficult to engage with the characters; at times, I felt totally indifferent. 

Review of DJINN PATROL ON THE PURPLE LINE by Deepa Anappara (New Release)

4 Stars

Nine-year-old Jai lives with his parents and older sister Runu in an Indian basti (slum).  When a classmate goes missing, Jai recruits his friends Pari and Faiz to become detectives to help find the missing boy. Jai is addicted to television crime shows and feels he has picked up crime-solving skills which he hopes to put to use.  What starts as a game becomes more serious as more children disappear.  The police seem indifferent though the community becomes more concerned.  As a result, tensions within the basti arise and, because the missing children are Hindu, Muslim residents are blamed.

Jai is the first-person narrator.  It is interesting to have a child’s perspective on the events.  Because of his age, Jai is naïve and somewhat confused and so not always totally aware of the horror that is happening around him.  Of course, as events touch him more personally, his innocence is taken from him.  Jai has both Hindu and Muslim friends so his open-mindedness contrasts the opinions of many of the adults in his neighbourhood.

Interspersed throughout are chapters giving the point of view of each of the children who disappears.  We learn about their daily struggles and their dreams.  What they all have in common is a hope for a better life than the one they are currently living in the basti.

The characterization of Jai is very realistic.  He is a very convincing young boy.  He is over-confident and so over-estimates his skills as a detective.  He lacks maturity so often asks awkward or insensitive questions and finds it difficult to accept that his friend Pari asks better questions than he does; after all, she is a girl.  He is rather lazy and easily distractible.  He is self-centred; though his parents worry about both Jai and Runu, Jai prays only for himself:  “Please God, don’t let me be kidnapped or murdered or djinned.”  Through the course of the novel, events force Jai to mature; he realizes his shortcomings and becomes less focused on self. 

This book takes the reader on an emotional roller coaster.  It begins slowly and seems rather light-hearted.  The three children play a game at being detectives.  Pari’s constant overshadowing of Jai as an investigator adds humour.  Of course, suspense is gradually ramped up as more and more children go missing.  As the novel progresses, a reader would have to be unfeeling not to be almost overwhelmed by sadness and anger. 

The portrayal of life in the slums seems very realistic.  People live in one-room shacks and though both of Jai’s parents have full-time jobs, he often grows hungry:  “I find a twig that I can chew to fool my tummy into thinking more food is on its way.”  The slum dwellers live under constant threat of having their homes destroyed; they fear going to the police or protesting police inaction because by drawing attention to themselves, they risk authorities demolishing the entire basti.

The lives of the poor are contrasted with those of the rich, the “hi-fi” people.  The wealthy have all the power; one man accuses a policeman, “’you are suspicious of maids and carpenters and plumbers, but when you see a hi-fi madam or sir, you bow your head and jump out of the way.’”  The plight of the poor is just seen as an inconvenience by the rich.  For example, when a woman’s daughter goes missing, she calls her employer to ask for two days off and the employer responds, “’Should I find a new bai to do your job?  Your daughter must have run off with a boy.  I heard it’s happening a lot in your area.’” 

Not only is there inequality between the rich and the poor but also between genders.  Girls' lives are especially difficult.  Khadifa, a young girl, bemoans how she must always look after her brother Kabir.  Their mother “had sent Kabir out to buy a packet of milk in the evening, and then Khadifa to bring him back when he didn’t return a couple of hours later.  No matter that Khadifa had friends to talk to, and sewing to complete.  Each time Kabir misbehaved, it fell on Khadifa to set things right.  How was that fair?”  Their mother is pregnant and Khadifa fears, “The new baby brother would probably be a rogue too, just like Kabir.  All of Khadifa’s time would go in chasing after these brats; she wouldn’t have a minute to try on a new nail polish or a hairband at a friend’s house.”  She covers for her brother because she fears their parents “would pack him off to the village where their grandparents lived, and no doubt assign Khadifa the position of his minder. . . . the mullah [in this village] said girls should be married off before they turned too old, and his too-old was thirteen or fourteen.  Kabir would lose nothing if they moved to the village, and Khadifa would lose everything.” 

Runu thinks of how Jai has daydreams and the self-confidence “that the world granted boys (which, in girls, was considered a character flaw or evidence of a dismal upbringing).”  Runu feels “she existed solely to care for her brother, and the house.  Afterward, she would similarly look after her husband, her hands smelling of cow-dung cakes.  Her own dreams were inconsequential.”

The author explores an important issue:  “As many as 180 children are said to go missing in India every day.”  The novel shows the effect these disappearances have on the families, families which are already marginalized.  The result is a book that is both thought-provoking and heart-breaking.

Note:  I received a digital galley from the publisher via NetGalley.