Review of DOUBLE BLIND by Sara Winokur (New Release)

2 Stars

I looked forward to reading this book because of its setting.  I’ve toured Iceland and fell in love with the country.  Also, I’m a fan of Nordic crime fiction.  Unfortunately, despite its setting and genre, this novel didn’t win me over.

Brynja, a forensic geneticist, receives a cryptic poem which seems to suggest that her twin brother Lúkas, who went missing 20 years earlier, is alive.  The poem leads her to become convinced that answers lie in a medieval manuscript of Icelandic sagas.  Unfortunately, people connected to the manuscript end up dying, and she receives warnings to stop her search. 

In the Author’s Note, Winokur states, “medieval Icelandic manuscripts are Iceland’s most precious treasures and would never be couriered around the country simply for someone to have a look at it [sic].”  Why then does she have this done in the book?  Using an (openly admitted) unrealistic event does not “enhance the story line”; that event just undermines the credibility of the book. 

There are other issues with the book.  For instance, there are many information dumps.  Some deal with genetics and others deal with things Icelandic.  For example, here’s information about Icelandic horses:  “her Icelandic horse, her precious Drífa, belonged to an ancient time, a breed of horse lost everywhere but here.  Drífa’s genes led back to the Asian steppes, to the Mongolian horses that had carried Genghis Khan to victory.  The horses spread to Russia and Norse settlers brought them to Iceland in the ninth and tenth centuries, where they mixed with breeds imported from the British Isles.  Along the way, Drífa's forebears had developed mutations which, instead of causing disease, adapted the horse to the harsh conditions of the Icelandic landscape, granting the creature a sure-footed gait, a thick mane and tail, and a double-coated hide for insulation against the cold.”  This description, which goes on even longer, may be interesting but is totally irrelevant.  Likewise, what is the purpose of including recipes for skyr with bilberries, Iceland moss soup, and horsemeat stew?  The medicinal uses of plants may be interesting to an herbalist but including long lists of these plants adds nothing to the plot.

Brynja is not a likeable protagonist.  At times, she comes across as an annoying know-it-all.  Then at other times, she seems totally dense:  she realizes “with a surge of excitement” that she can use RNA to help solve a case.  I am not a scientist, but I know that RNA can identify the organ source of human tissue, so why should this be such a revelation to a geneticist?  She even has to check a genetics website “to confirm her thinking”?!  Brynja is Director of Forensic Sciences but she doesn’t know that her boss is informed whenever anyone accesses a specific database?  She has reached her position but still behaves unprofessionally and unethically by thinking of accessing medical information for personal reasons?  Brynja’s relationship with Ari is problematic.  She is engaged to him, but she doesn’t seem to completely trust him?  On the other hand, she has a new intern as an assistant but she trusts her immediately? 

There’s a narrative technique which is very annoying:  Brynja says she is going to do something but then there is no indication she does this until we are told she did.  For example, “She had called the doctor last night and was told he would be in his office at nine.  She could call in an hour.”  Then, her time is accounted for and she doesn’t make a phone call, though she says later, “’Actually, I called as well.  The doctor’s coming by this afternoon.’”  These types of inconsistencies happen several times. 

And there are other inconsistencies.   A person eats half a tart made with yew berries and gets brittle nails and dry skin immediately?  Icelandic medical staff makes diagnoses by comparing symptoms found in animals like horses and sheepdogs?  Three guards “were stationed in front of the church” but one says, “’I was the only one on duty at the time; the other officers were asleep’”?  Brynja must wear cotton gloves to touch an ancient book, but the pastor touches it with his bare hands?  Brynja suffers from visual auras and she thinks she must rest “to gain some control over the migraines.”  Later she says that some incidents “were a result of migraines and temporary auras.”  My research indicates that aura symptoms strike before migraines; Brynja has visual disturbances but never suffers from migraines.  A police guard is aware that a crime took place at a location but she thinks she has to call the police and have them rope off the crime scene?  A man is admitted into a “Memory Care Home” even though a doctor said “a diagnosis of dementia was premature”?  A man has no pulse and Brynja fails to revive him, but she “gasps” when she later learns the man is in a coma?  Brynja put the poem “on the nightstand, slipped off the bathrobe, and climbed back into bed” but then “Brynja slipped out of bed, walked to the table, and returned with the poem”?!  Elly speaks to a mail clerk and gets some information like, “’He was sure it was posted from a foreign country’” but then Brynja can’t speak with him because “he was away on vacation”?  I could go on, but I think I’ve made my point.

Sometimes things seem thrown into the story for little reason.  What’s with María’s strange behaviour?  Her wanting to sell vegetables from her garden is insufficient explanation for her oddness!  Why is there a bizarre interaction between Elly and Rúnar involving Iceland poppy tea?  Why does Pastor Dalmann say that the manuscript will “’never leave this church again’” when it is destined for the Akureyri Museum?  What’s the point of the animosity between Brynja and Henning?  What’s the motive for Rúnar and Henning “meeting so often and in private”? 

The motive of the villain is very weak considering all that he does.  His obsession just doesn’t adequately explain his actions; as one character say, “’Pretty extreme, though, killing people and all.’”  This person who “except for driving the pickup into town for the occasional errand . . . pretty much kept to himself” takes the truck described as an “old bucket of bolts” because “the door’s practically hanging from the hinges” and drives halfway across Iceland to the Westfjords?

As I said at the beginning, I really looked forward to a good Nordic crime novel; unfortunately, this book has so many problems with it that I kept wanting it to just end. 

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

Review of ALBATROSS by Terry Fallis

3 Stars

Adam Coryell is in his last year of high school when his new phys. ed. teacher, applying the theory of a Swedish professor, discovers that Adam has the ideal body for golf.  Though he has never even held a golf club, he proves to be a golfing prodigy.  Even though he wants to be a writer, he follows the path of least resistance and quickly becomes an international celebrity with, he thinks, an unmerited fortune.  Despite his meteoric rise, he is bored and unhappy because his unwanted talent takes him away from his true dream.

The book explores the difference between success and happiness.  Adam has a great deal of success, but he has a problem:  “I just didn’t like golf that much . . . It took a very long time to play and didn’t seem to accomplish anything particularly redeeming or constructive. . . . The world wouldn’t be a better place if I could shoot lower scores than other golfers.  But I believed the world just might be better if I could write a story or a novel that moved people, that made them think, that made them laugh, that empowered them” (119-120).  When he wins, “’I didn’t really feel anything.  No excitement, no sense of accomplishment” (192).  He does not feel fulfilled because his success comes with no effort or control:  “I haven’t really won those tournaments, my one-in-a-billion physical shell won them.  I am not responsible.  I have no agency, no control.  I’m just along for the ride.  There’s no personal satisfaction when I’m putting out no effort to contribute to my success’” (220).

Ironically, Adam does not have the same level of writing talent:  “I knew my writing still needed work.  That just made me want it all the more” (166).  He focuses on creative writing in university, however, and discovers satisfaction:  “In my courses, there was real work involved in achieving my academic goals, and real satisfaction came along with it” (177).  When he has a minor success in writing, he is shocked at the “extraordinary and unprecedented feeling it engendered” (348).

The plot is predictable.  It is inevitable that Adam will eventually make a choice between golf and writing, between what brings him fame and fortune and what brings him happiness.  The romance story involving Adam and his high school sweetheart Alli also has the expected outcome.  The only real surprise is the one scene in Dubai and it is a bit over-the-top. 

What is more problematic besides the predictability is the lack of tension.  Adam does experience guilt because he is so successful without effort and he is not enjoying himself, but he earns enough money that he will never have to work in his life if he chooses not to do so.  Few obstacles arise and the conflicts that do occur are resolved fairly quickly.  The reader is well aware that should Adam choose to focus on writing, money will never be an issue and he will never be a starving author.  That financial security lessens the risks and so lessens the tension. 

Another problem is that Adam is too good, too nice.  He has no noteworthy flaws; he always has good intentions and good deeds follow.  Were it not for his witty banter, I would describe him as bland and boring (like the sport he plays).  He seems to lack emotional expressiveness; other than a meltdown during one interview, he seems emotionally flat.  His reaction to a breakup is certainly understated.  I wish that his filter malfunctioned more often (148)!  (Actually, all the characters are all so nice.  The parents and girlfriend and coaches and professors are so supportive.  Virtually everyone is pleasant and agreeable.)

I loved the title of the book since it works on several levels.  An albatross is a rare bird which can stay aloft for extended periods of time so it is a metaphor for Adam and his rare talent.  An albatross is also a difficult golf score that few athletes achieve.  Of course, the term is used metaphorically to mean a burden that feels like a curse, and that is the way Adam often views his golfing ability. 

For me, the humour is gentle rather than the laugh-out-loud kind.  For instance, Adam describes an angry tournament official:  “He was really steamed.  I worried he might not only take a stroke from me, but have one himself” (107).  About the funniest comment was Adam’s description of himself as an atypical Canadian:  “I’d never actually played organized hockey, so my fighting skills were, shall we say, underdeveloped for my age” (140).

The novel covers a time period from September 2013 to May 2022.  Unfortunately, the book may suffer in terms of realism because the last third is set in the near future.  There is, for instance, no reference to COVID-19.  And the Tokyo Olympics have been postponed.

I think the book could be shorter than its 388 pages.  There were discussions of golfing, writing techniques, and fountain pens that could be abbreviated.  What are the chances of finding three people who are such aficionados of fountain pens and ink?  (I do use a fountain pen for my journal, and I did recently see a couple of pens I liked at the Mont Blanc store at Schiphol airport in Amsterdam; sadly, I couldn’t see spending over $4,000 on a pen!)

Despite its flaws, this is a quick, enjoyable read which does not require much effort from the reader. 

Review of THE TROUT by Peter Cunningham

4 Stars

I don’t remember how this book came to my attention, but I’m glad it did.  It’s an understated gem.

Alex Smyth grew up in Ireland but has spent his adult life in Canada; now he and his wife Kay have retired to the Muskoka region of Ontario.  One day he receives a letter which unsettles him and stirs up vague childhood memories.  He returns to Ireland looking to find out what he has forgotten because his memory “’has big holes in it.’”  That trip involves a visit with his estranged father.  Surely, Alex didn’t murder someone when he was seven years old, as he suspects?

The book examines sexual abuse and the long-lasting effects of childhood trauma.  Kay, a psychotherapist, tells Alex, “’When we are young we often have encounters that leave us deeply marked.’”  More than one character in the novel “has spent his adult life suffering wounds inflicted in his childhood.” 

The novel captured my interest immediately.  What will Alex discover in Ireland?  While Alex is away, leaving Kay and their young grandson at home, Kay must deal with a man who is paying them untoward attention.  Are they in danger?  The chapters are short and so tension builds quickly.

Several of the chapters include descriptions of the life of a trout and the skills needed for fly fishing.  These brief passages serve as a metaphor for what is happening:  “the trout’s greatest enemy is man” and “Fly fishing allows man to revert to his state of being a natural hunter and to stalk his quarry . . . Fly fishing allows man to act out an elemental part of the forest glade that lies within us all.”  A description of night time fishing is juxtaposed with an episode where a man takes a couple of boys fishing at night.  When a friend compliments that man on his fishing skills (“’Is there no fish in the county safe from you?’”), the comment has a double meaning that is truly frightening.    

The book is narrated in the first person by Alex.  My issue is that several times he seems to know more than he plausibly could about what others are thinking and doing.  For instance, Alex describes Kay:  “She wishes she could see clearly into my soul, for even though she once trusted me, now she is not so sure.  Everyone has secrets, she reflects.”  Three times, Alex explains that he knows his wife’s thoughts because “she will later say” something to him about them, but this approach is awkward. 

The ending delivers a punch that will leave the reader re-evaluating all that went before.  I am certain the book would reveal more depths on a second reading.

Review of EROTIC STORIES FOR PUNJABI WIDOWS by Balli Kaur Jaswal

3.5 Stars

This interesting combination of literary fiction, mystery, romance, and erotica is set in the Sikh community in London.

Nikki, a young, first-generation British Sikh, gets a job at a local Sikh temple.  She thinks she will be teaching creative writing to women but soon learns that the majority of her students are illiterate widows; they express an interest in oral storytelling, especially stories about desire:  “’we have plenty of experience with desire’” and “’We talk about it all the time.’”  The women say they want to “’discuss the things we miss’” or “’what we were never given in the first place.’”  Nikki acquiesces, though there are concerns that there could be trouble if information about the classes comes to the attention of the self-appointed morality brotherhood. 

There is a mystery and romance as well.  Maya, the daughter of Kulwinder (the woman who hires Nikki), died under strange circumstances and Kulwinder suspects foul play.  Since Maya’s name is often mentioned by the women in the class, Nikki becomes interested and starts asking questions.  And Nikki, while arguing with her sister about her desire for an arranged marriage, starts a relationship with a man she meets at the temple.

The focus is on women who are invisible in their community.  The widows, because they have no husbands are considered “irrelevant” and so dismissed or treated with disdain.  Even Nikki at first seems to think of them only as gossipy grannies.  Their culture tells them that women are expected to be sexually available to their husbands but they are not supposed to enjoy sex.  One of the women tells Nikki, “’You must think it’s wrong of us to discuss these things because we shouldn’t be thinking of them.’”  When one woman reads one of the erotic stories, she feels ashamed:  “Why was she ashamed?  Because she was supposed to be; because women, especially at her age, did not ask for these sorts of pleasures.”  Though the book is about women in the Sikh culture, it is an almost universal truth that elderly women are invisible and are certainly not considered sexual beings. 

I enjoyed that Nikki proves to be a dynamic character.  Initially, the focus is on the differences between Nikki and her students.  She is only 22 years of age and the widows, though not all are elderly, are older than she.  Nikki is educated, unlike her students, most of whom are illiterate.  Nikki is modern and lives independently whereas the widows are traditional and have lived fairly sheltered lives.  She comes to understand, however, that they, like she, have dreams of physical and emotional fulfillment.  Gradually, she comes to respect the women.

The book shows the empowering effect of storytelling.  The widows join the writing group to fill in time, but as they begin expressing themselves, they learn they are not alone and so gain confidence.  One of the women says, “’These storytelling sessions are good fun but I think I’ve also learned to speak up for what I want.’”  Nikki realizes, “’Those meetings gave those women a strong sense of acceptance and support.  For the first time in their lives they could openly share their most private thoughts and know that they weren’t alone.’” 

There are many touches of humour.  The women hilariously argue the appropriateness of various vegetables to describe men’s penises.  One woman discusses the value of ghee, clarified butter, as a lubricant:  she learned “’to sneak some ghee into a small container during cooking without my mother-in-law noticing.  Otherwise it was challenging to get big drums of ghee into the bedroom without the rest of the family seeing.’”

Despite the humour, the book does touch on serious issues:  the clash between modern and traditional cultural values, domestic abuse, honour killings, and attitudes towards older women.  There is a rather feel-good ending that will appeal to many readers.  Of course, readers should be warned that there are passages of erotica which might make some people uncomfortable.  I enjoyed the book; it provides a perspective on an unfamiliar culture while exploring ubiquitous attitudes towards women, especially older women. 

Review of A KILLER IN KING'S COVE by Iona Whishaw

3 Stars

What is better than finding another mystery series?  Finding a Canadian mystery series.  This is the first of the Lane Winslow mysteries of which there are currently six; the seventh in the series is scheduled for release next month.

During World War II, Lane Winslow worked for British Intelligence.  War-weary, she decides to settle in interior British Columbia in the tiny community of King’s Cove.  Her plans for a quiet life are disrupted when a man’s body is found on her property.  A piece of paper with her name on it is found on the murder victim’s body.  Though she tries to assist Inspector Darling and Constable Ames of the Nelson police department with their investigation, she soon finds that she is the prime suspect.   Convinced that someone in King’s Cove is responsible, she sets out to prove her innocence and identify the murderer. 

Since this is the first in the series, there is focus on character development.  Lane is self-sufficient and thoughtful.  It is obvious that her wartime experiences have shaped her.  I liked how in the course of the novel she learns about some past mistakes.  The other inhabitants of King’s Cove are differentiated so there is no difficulty remembering who is who. 

There are some issues with uneven pacing and point of view shifts.  The novel begins slowly, primarily to provide background on the characters.  The investigation is not hurried, but perhaps too much information is given too early so that the solution is predictable.  Then, the ending seems rushed, so much so that it feels choppy.  At the beginning, the third person limited omniscient point of view is used, but then it switches to third person omniscient.  There are several flashbacks to both World War I and World War II.

There is one major coincidence that may give the reader pause:  the victim, with a very particular past, ends up in the remote area where Lane has chosen to live.  Though I haven’t read any other books in the series, I wonder whether King’s Cove will come to have Cabot Cove syndrome.

In some ways, this book reminded me of the Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries.  The protagonists are both young, in their late 20s.  Phryne is wealthier but Lane is financially independent.  There is an attraction between Lane and Inspector Darling as there is between Phryne and Inspector Robinson.  And there are similarities between Constable Ames and Constable Collins. 

This is what I consider a cozy historical mystery; it will not appeal to readers who prefer action-packed crime thrillers.  Though this debut novel is flawed, it is sufficiently good that I will read at least the second in the series. 

Review of SMALL GAME HUNTING AT THE LOCAL COWARD GUN CLUB by Megan Gail Coles

4.5 Stars

The Dedication of the book includes a warning:  “This might hurt a little.”  That is an understatement!  By the time I reached the end of the book, I was emotionally exhausted.  But to call this book, with its examination of wounded people and shattered lives, less than brilliant would also be an understatement.

The setting is St. John’s, Newfoundland, on Valentine’s Day; most events take place in an upscale restaurant called The Hazel.  The first section, entitled “Prep”, introduces a number of characters:  Iris, the hostess at the restaurant, wants to end the destructive affair she has been having with John, the married, predatory chef of the restaurant; Olive, Iris’ friend, is the product of a tragic past and the foster care system and has an equally tragic present; Georgina, John’s wife and the owner of the restaurant, craves power and prestige; Calv, an acquaintance of Olive, cannot escape a toxic friendship; and Damian, a server in the restaurant, is a self-loathing gay man.  The pace of this first part is slow; the focus is on developing the backgrounds and emotional lives of these characters.  Initially, keeping the characters straight is difficult but readers should persevere.

In the second part, entitled “Lunch”, relationships among characters are further clarified and the storylines of the various characters are brought together.  Tension grows as more and more people arrive at The Hazel.  Just as a winter storm develops outdoors, more than one confrontation is inevitable indoors.  Indeed, the third and final section (“Dinner”) is the most intense and dramatic.

The lives of women receive special attention, Iris and Olive more than other characters.  They have experienced poverty, violence, abandonment, and misogyny.  Women are in fact the small game mentioned in the title, often the victims of physical, psychological, and sexual abuse.  The author calls out the men who abuse and also those who do nothing to stop the abuse.  She also rails against women who defend an offender:  “He is loved because we love him and therefore he is good and not bad.”  She attacks women who act as enablers by attacking women who choose to speak up against their abusers. 

There is such depth to the characters that readers come to completely understand why someone does what he/she does.  A character may make a bad decision, but the author reveals a character’s motivations and rationalizations in such detail that a reader cannot but accept that decision as logical given the circumstances and past experiences and emotional state of the character. 

The writer has a distinctive style.  The metaphors, for instance, are drawn from ordinary (often specifically Newfoundland) life.  A man has the certainty of “a toothless bay grannie’s level of certainty, the kind that takes twenty years of card games in the church basement to curate.”  John makes Iris “feel less concentrated than a tin of off-brand soup stock you only use up when you’ve cleaned the cupboards before holidays.  Something to be eaten on moving day.  The last bit of sustenance in the house.”  A woman too depressed to eat properly speaks of every day in her life being a “storm chip day.”

Sometimes the writer veers away from narrative prose to the language of a rant.  For instance, when outlining the arguments given in defense of predatory men, she rages against “the cliché trotted out the most because it’s the best/worst one of all, uttered at every girl before any training bra – ready, set, go:  boys will be boys.  But really, rightly, that statement should be disputed every time it is used to dismiss the very genuine and deserved complaint from girls just trying to survive as girls in spaces where even mothers are used against them.  Mothers must stop competing with their daughters.  Daughters do not make men mistreat them.  It is not right or fair to punish daughters further out of envy.  Keeping the dangerous path dangerous will not make them better women but hurt them still in the same sad ways.”

This book is not always an easy read.  Some readers may be frustrated by some elements (e.g. the slow pace at the beginning; the large cast of characters, the unpunctuated dialogue in long conversations where speakers are not clearly identified).  And because of its subject matter, the book is not a comfortable read.  It is not for those who want just to be entertained.  This book is for those willing to engage with a powerful piece of interpretive literature. 

Review of SOCIAL CREATURE by Tara Isabella Burton

2.5 Stars

Louise Wilson is an aspiring writer working multiple jobs to make ends meet.  She encounters socialite Lavinia Williams and quickly gets drawn into her aimless, extravagant lifestyle.  Louise gains entry to New York’s literary world through Lavinia; they spend their time attending exclusive, decadent parties and curating their lives on social media.  Louise is not always happy with Lavinia’s controlling treatment of her, but she keeps her feelings to herself for fear of losing Lavinia’s patronage.

Much of the interest in the book lies in wanting to learn how this toxic friendship will end because it is inevitable that it will not end well; we learn that Lavinia befriends people whom she can manipulate and then discards them about six months later; when Louise has known Lavinia for about six months, she is told not to panic yet, “’But if I were you – I’d have a backup plan.’”  In the first chapter, the reader is even told that “six months from now, Lavinia dies” and “Louise . . . will be there.”

There are no likeable characters.  Lavinia is needy and manipulative.  She draws insecure people into her circle and then uses their fear of rejection to manipulate them until she gets bored and casts them aside:  “’She made you feel so special.  Until she didn’t.’”  She has no understanding of the real world; for example, she lives in a rent-free apartment owned by her parents and has a generous allowance.  She is lazy but has pretentions of being an intellectual.  The people with whom she associates are similarly shallow, vapid, and narcissistic.  Louise is also self-absorbed and desperately needy.   She wants to be as blonde, thin, rich, and confident as Lavinia.  The excessive drinking and the outrageous, hedonistic parties actually appeal to her?!  She knows that Lavinia is manipulating her, but she lets her continue.  Her choice in men is questionable.  I found it difficult to care about what happened to these people.

The book satirizes society’s obsession with social media.  Everyone Lavinia knows is obsessed with idealized constructions of their lives online; they are constantly uploading photos and checking for the number of “likes” they receive.  Activity on social media is viewed as the equivalent of in-person interaction.  This view allows for dangerous manipulation of reality after Lavinia’s death.

The book is narrated in the present tense via an omniscient third-person narrator.  What bothered me are the intrusive comments addressing the reader directly:  “Lavinia will never go.  She is going to die soon.  You know this” and “You and I both know what happens now:  Lavinia doesn’t make it.  But the thing you have to understand is:  why.  Now you and I, we’ve been to parties before” and “You and I, of course, we know the truth.” 

At one point, Louise criticizes Lavinia’s writing style:  “the prose is too purple and the sentences are too long and the literary allusions are too forced and every other line is a quotation or a character monologuing about the nature of Life and Art.”  Many of those criticisms could be made about the novelist’s style:  sentences tend to be overly long or sentence fragments; there are allusions to the writings of Tennyson, T. S. Eliot, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Shakespeare, and Hemingway and characters have pretentious literary names such as Cordelia, Beowulf, Rex Eliot, and Rosekranz; and discussions at the parties invariably include Hal Upchurch speaking about “The Great Man of American Letters.”

Perhaps I’m not the intended audience for this book.  There is little in it that appeals to me: the plot is repetitive, the characters are obnoxious and unsympathetic, and the writing style is grating.

Review of IN OUR OTHER LIVES by Theodore Wheeler (New Release)

3 Stars

FBI Special Agent Frank Schwaller arrives in Omaha, Nebraska, to investigate the family of Tyler Ahls, a young man who disappeared in Pakistan but has now shown up in a terrorist propaganda video.  Schwaller’s task is to determine if Tyler is a hostage or a traitor who poses a threat to American people.

Much of the investigation focuses on Elisabeth Holland, Tyler’s sister.  We learn of her marriage to Nick Holland.  Nick abandoned the marriage soon after the birth of their son Caleb who then died shortly after Nick’s disappearance.  Elisabeth then decided to leave Chicago and pursue a nursing career in Omaha.  She claims not to know where either her brother or husband is or what their reasons for disappearing were.

The novel consists of twelve files detailing information gathered through surveillance and interviews:  “Everything that happened could be recorded and coded.  Everything that could be known and filed was known and filed.”  The book emphasizes how all Americans are under surveillance:  “In . . . any big city, that’s millions of people . . . and nearly every minute of their lives was recorded, their phone calls, any digital activity, all metadata, their stories.  Even someone like Elisabeth Holland, who was off the radar . . . before her brother’s activities made everyone in her family a person of interest, she still wandered in front of surveilling eyes hundreds of times.  Her file built frame by frame, byte by byte.”  Schwaller’s case is considered counterterrorism and he admits “That loosens the rules of what we can do” so he can do virtually whatever he likes and “Worst case, I’m caught poking where I’m not supposed to:  throw the Patriot Act in their face.”

Elisabeth is a foil for Frank.  Her way of coping is simply to stoically move on because trying to understand others or God’s plan (if there is one) isn’t always possible and doesn’t help:  “’Some families fall apart and some stay together, and it doesn’t always make sense why one is one and another the other.’”  Frank, on the other hand, wants to understand everything:  “Was there any point in tracking the every gesture and disgrace of these people?  Sure there was.”  He becomes frustrated when people are not co-operative:  “These people, they couldn’t just answer his questions, they always wanted to take something from him instead.”  Even after the investigation is over, Frank “kept tabs on them, from time to time because he came to see them as his people.  That’s the way it went after an investigation.”

The theme of the novel seems to be that despite all the surveillance and information gathering, there are mysteries that cannot be solved.  People often remain mysteries even to those who love them and should know them best.  Elisabeth and her parents do not know what Tyler’s motivation was in travelling to Pakistan.  Likewise, she does not know why Nick left her without any explanation.  A man dies and investigators cannot determine whether his death was an accident or suicide.  Why would a man abandon nine children? 

The style of the book, especially its long sentences, is sometimes annoying:  “It would have been suspicious that Tyler went missing, given what Nick knew – that Tyler was aware of the geopolitical danger of moving to Peshawar and hiking the Hindu Khush, that Tyler’s emails were increasingly erratic, made frequent references to David Koresh and John the Baptist, and how Tyler wanted to be part of their tradition, his own destiny as a missionary, a revolutionary (as he saw it), though Tyler had trouble explaining how three trips to Pakistan fit in his vision – or how hiking foothills there made him either insurgent or evangelist.”  Yikes!  Meaning is lost in such verbiage.

This book is very much American, so it is sometimes confusing to this Canadian reader.  References to things like the Patriot Act, and FISA mandates and warrants mean little to me:  “There’s FISA, you know what that is?  There’s mandate.  Before, if I wasn’t sure it was okay to access a file here or there, I had to get permission from a prosecutor, then they talk to a judge.  Each time!  Now there’s no prosecutor involved.  There’s hardly a judge, just a signature to request and then I get carte blanche for ninety days.”  How many people, even Americans, are going to be familiar with the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act, its amendments and its constitutionality?

The book was in some ways an uncomfortable read.  I kept looking over my shoulder wondering who was recording my activities and whether they would be considered “normal” or not.

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