Review of THE BIRTH YARD by Mallory Tater

2 Stars

I came across this title on a Canadian fiction preview list:  https://www.cbc.ca/books/47-works-of-canadian-fiction-to-watch-for-in-spring-2020-1.5426273. I wish I’d skipped this book.

Sable Ursu lives in a patriarchal cult known as The Den.  Women’s lives are strictly controlled; even girls’ menstrual cycles are regulated and synchronized.  Sable turns 18 so her schooling ends and she is paired with a Match in order to conceive.  In her second trimester of pregnancy, she is sequestered with other women to a birth yard where they are prepared for giving birth and motherhood.  They are also drugged so they will be less prone to hysteria and will be more compliant.  Sable breaks some of the rules and she and her friends suffer consequences.

Descriptions of the book mention how it echoes The Handmaid’s Tale.  No kidding!  There’s the misogynistic, male supremacist world where women are expected to “nurture and produce” and are blamed for all of society’s ills:  the founder of The Den “believed women and their inability to temper emotion with reason were a primary, key cause of many of society’s problems.”  Women are even blamed for any sexual violence committed against them.  People in The Den are kept away from the evil influence of Main Stream, the outside world.  Of course, the protagonist has a questioning nature which causes her to slowly realize the unfairness of the world she inhabits and to rebel against it.

Sable should be a likeable character.  She is curious and demonstrates some independent thinking, and she believes in loyalty to friends over loyalty to the community’s ideals.  Unfortunately, she is just such a bland person and ever so inconsistent.  She thinks, “Maybe I am a bad friend” (156) and “I think I’m a good friend” (230).  Sable’s opinion of her midwife Grey is negative and then positive and then negative and then positive. 

And Sable is not the only inconsistent character.  All the young women behave bizarrely:  Elspeth “wraps her hand around a table leg” and Dinah “strokes her hand up the table leg.”  They are friends and then they are physically attacking each other.  At one point, Elspeth lunges at Sable, grabs her throat and squeezes.  Dinah intervenes by saying, “’Don’t touch her.  Stop touching her.’”  That’s the verb she uses to describe an attempt at strangulation?  Elspeth’s actions are attributed to the effects of the drugs, though the drugs (DociGens) are supposed to keep them docile!  Mamie’s behaviour and comments suggest a lack of intelligence and Dinah even makes a comment about someone being “dumber than Mamie” but then Sable thinks, “Mamie can’t face anything that scares her – she’s too smart for her own good”?  On one page, Sable comments, “my Father hasn’t been doing as well.  My parents need my good favour to repair their home, to get Lynx’s money and attention” but three pages later she adds, “my Father is in good favour with Lynx”?

Reading the book is plodding work.  There is definitely a lack of excitement because nothing much happens.  Sable complains, “I feel trapped sometimes, fenced in, claustrophobic with routine” and that’s exactly how the reader feels much of the time.  A scene involving a pig seems thrown in just to add some action.  Then when some suspense is finally created, there’s a deus ex machina ending. 

The writing style is also tedious.  Short, choppy sentences abound:  “We walk toward the lake.  There is nothing to do but wait, maybe wade.  We sit in the sand . . . We sit without thinking of work or life.  We sit without any other girls around us.  We sit like lepers.  The dock ahead is so inviting.  We are not permitted to walk along it.  I notice a lack of birds here.”  The repetitive diction and sentence structure do nothing to enliven the narrative:  “She never sits up.  She drools on the grass.  She has a cut on her lip . . . She says my headscarf glowed . . . She says she kissed my skirt . . . She says she just wanted to serve and help me.  She says . . . ”  And some of the descriptions make no sense:  the midwives wear “long black skirts” so how can Sable know that “Some have more than one pair of socks up to their knees”?

I disagree with CBC Books that this is a book “to watch for in spring 2020”.  If you see it, move on. 

Review of HOW A WOMAN BECOMES A LAKE by Marjorie Celona

4 Stars

I was attracted to this book by its title and was so pleased that behind that title is a great read.

The novel is set in 1986 in the state of Washington “in a small fishing town a stone’s throw from Canada.”  A police officer, Lewis Côté, finds Vera Gusev’s car abandoned in a parking lot near a frozen lake at Squire Point.  She had called the police to report finding a young boy in the woods, but neither she nor a boy can be found.  Leo Lucchi takes his sons Jesse and Dmitri to the lake but when Jesse pulls a cruel prank on his father, Leo leaves him in the woods for a while to think about what he did before picking him up.  Lewis wants to find out what happened to Vera.  Did Leo and the boys meet her?  Despite their claiming not to know what happened to Vera, there are suspicions that they are keeping a secret.

The novel is told from shifting perspectives:  Lewis, Jesse, Denny (Vera’s husband), Evelina (Jesse and Dmitri’s mother), Leo, Dmitri, and Vera.  The reader comes to know each of these characters quite well, including their personalities and their motivations.  Of course, information is also withheld; it is made obvious that the full truth is not being told:  “He could live with that story, with that version of things” and “’I will keep your secret . . . Because I think it’s the right thing to do.’” 

Guilt and grief are explored.  Denny, for example, suffers from both.  He is consumed by grief because of his wife’s disappearance and by guilt because his marriage was failing.  Lewis grieves because of his father’s death and feels guilty because he was unable to help his dad when he was alive.  Leo, divorced from Evelina, knows he was not always the best husband and father and keeps looking for redemption. 

Jesse knows he has not always been a good brother so he determines to treat Dmitri better. 

The book examines justice:  does justice for the dead supersede any duty to the living?  A search for the truth cannot help a deceased victim but may harm the living.  For instance Denny is initially suspected of knowing something about his wife’s disappearance.  The investigation leaves him in even more torment:  “They would investigate every aspect of his life and marriage, the detectives told him.  They would turn him inside out.”  So he starts thinking “Maybe she hadn’t disappeared at all.  Maybe he had driven her away.  Maybe he had driven her to suicide.” 

Also explored is the impact of childhood experiences.  Lewis often ponders the impact of his difficult childhood on his life, especially the choices he has made:  “the child of a crazy parent spends his whole life trying to fix the world.”  As a police officer, he thinks that “if a child committed a crime by age twelve, he could help that child turn things around.  He could have a huge impact on that child’s life.  But if that child was fifteen?  Forget about it.”  Jesse experienced violence at the hands of his father so when he becomes a parent, Evelina “finds herself watching him closely when he holds his daughter.  Studying his hands.  How tightly they grip the baby’s little thighs, her little arms. Or did he get all the violence out of him . . . ?”

A concern shared by several characters is the desire to be a good parent.  Certainly, Lewis wants to be a good father:   “Was that the kind of thing a good parent would say? . . . He wanted to be a good parent . . He wanted to be.”  Evelina wants to be a good mother:  “She had read somewhere that after a separation a parent should not speak ill of the other parent.  So she tried to reminisce, as much as she could with the boys, about Leo’s good qualities.”  Even Leo acknowledges that he might need to take parenting classes.

This is a crime novel, but it is a crime novel with thematic depth.  It leaves the reader wondering what he/she would do in a similar situation. 

Review of THE SONG OF ACHILLES by Madeline Miller

4 Stars

In 2018, I read Madeline Miller’s Circe which I really enjoyed, so I thought I’d read her debut novel for which she won the Orange Prize for Fiction.  The Song of Achilles is not as good as Circe, but it is still a very good read.

The book tells the Achilles’ story from the point of view of Patroclus, Achilles’ friend and companion.  Patroclus begins narrating with his childhood.  Because of an accidental death, Patroclus is exiled to the court of King Peleus where he meets the king’s son Achilles.  The two become friends and, eventually, lovers.  Because of Achilles’ fighting skills, he is coerced into taking part in the Trojan War and, of course, Patroclus accompanies him. 

Any readers with knowledge of Greek mythology will know how the story ends.  Dramatic irony is used throughout; for instance, Achilles several times mentions that he has no interest in fighting Hector because “’He’s done nothing to me.’”  The reader also knows that Odysseus’ assurance that the war will be short and a victory easy is unfounded.

Patroclus is a dynamic character.  At the beginning he is weak and shy; because he is rejected by so many people, he is desperate for love.  His relationship with Achilles gives him self-confidence and gradually we see a principled young man with compassion for others.  His love for Achilles matures as well.  At first Patroclus is a love-starved boy who is obsessed with Achilles; he sees only his beauty and virtues and follows him like a lost puppy.  Later he acknowledges Achilles’ flaws; he says, “’The word I use [for Achilles’ pride] is hubris.  Our word for arrogance that scrapes the stars, for violence and towering rage.”  Nonetheless, his love does not diminish. 

Because we see Achilles from Patroclus’ perspective, we see traits other than those most commonly emphasized in the greatest of the Greek warriors.  Patroclus seems to be able to bring out gentleness in Achilles, though it becomes obvious that he has inherited his mother’s coldness and is capable of loving only one person.  What is not sufficiently explained is the reason why Achilles chooses to befriend Patroclus.  When Peleus asks his son why he has chosen Patroclus as a companion (after choosing no other despite parental urging), Achilles answers, “’He is surprising.’” 

Other characters from mythology also make appearances.  Some like Thetis, Odysseus, and Agamemnon are not portrayed in a positive light.  Other less-known figures like Chiron and Briseis and Patroclus emerge as the real heroes worthy of admiration.

Knowledge of Greek mythology is not essential for a reader to enjoy this book.  Those who are familiar with Achilles’ story will probably focus on the character development and dramatic irony whereas those lacking the background will surely be intrigued by the plot with its several twists.    

Review of A GENTLEMAN IN MOSCOW by Amor Towles

4 Stars

This was an especially interesting book to read during self-isolation because of the Covid-19 pandemic:  the protagonist, Count Alexander Rostov, is not allowed to step outside his home.  He is given a life sentence of house arrest:  he will be killed if he ever leaves the confines of the Metropol Hotel.  He is stripped of most of his possessions and removed from his luxury suite to a garret room measuring 100 square feet.  The Count understands that “if a man does not master his circumstances then he is bound to be mastered by them” and so sets out to make his whole world out of the hotel and the people in it.

The novel spans 32 years, from 1922 to 1954.  There are major events in Russian history during this time, but they remain in the background.  The focus is on how the changes in the world outside affect the Count’s life:  “History is the business of identifying momentous events from the comfort of a high-back chair.”  Often the turbulence of history is reflected in the food served in the hotel restaurant where the Count eats and eventually becomes the head waiter:  the chef‘s saltimbocca is “fashioned from necessity.  In place of a cutlet of veal, Emile had pounded flat a breast of chicken.  In place of prosciutto de Parma, he had shaved a Ukrainian ham.  And in place of sage . . . nettle.”  It takes the Count and two friends three years to find all 15 ingredients needed to make bouillabaisse.  And the Count cannot get the wine he wants because the government has mandated that all bottles be stripped of labels so only red and white wine can be sold with every bottle at a single price:  “’the existence of a wine list runs counter to the ideals of the Revolution. . . . it is a monument to the privilege of the nobility, the effeteness of the intelligentsia, and the predatory pricing of speculators.’” 

Though the Count cannot leave the hotel, he reads the newspaper to learn about events.  Because the hotel is across from the Kremlin, those responsible for events (e.g. Khrushchev) inevitably find their way to the hotel where the Count observes them and makes astute conclusions.  The Count also befriends many people.  His best friends within the hotel are the chef, the maître d’, and a precocious 9-year-old girl, but he also becomes friends with an American general’s aide-de-camp, a beautiful Russian actress, and an officer of the Communist Party who is “’charged with keeping track of certain men of interest.’”  So though his world may seem small, it really isn’t.

There are wonderful touches of humour.  When a waiter recommends an inappropriate wine to accompany a Latvian stew, the Count muses, “Now there was a wine that would clash with the stew as Achilles clashed with Hector.  It would slay the dish with a blow to the dead and drag it behind its chariot until it tested the fortitude of every man in Troy.”  When unable to sleep, the Count doesn’t resort to the remedy of counting sheep because he prefers “to have his lamb encrusted with herbs and served with a red wine reduction.”  An immoderate young man keeps refilling his glass with wine and has extra helpings of a beef roast so eventually he returns “his supper to the pasture from whence it came.”

The Count is a Renaissance man.  He is a gourmand and an oenophile.  He is knowledgeable of the literature of several languages.  He tutors a Communist official on French, English and American culture.  He is an intelligent, witty conversationalist and an expert on etiquette.  All of this should make him insufferably annoying, but he isn’t.  He does not consider himself superior to others; he treats others with kindness and respect, though he has little patience for those who have not earned their positions through skill and hard work.  He is not bitter, but accepts his sentence with grace and dignity, and remains true to his principles.  He is unfailingly composed, refined, and polite – a true gentle man and gentleman.

The diction is formal and sophisticated, language appropriate to an erudite protagonist.  The novel is elegant and charming, again like the protagonist.   Reading the book is what I imagine a conversation with the Count would be like; I came away having learned much after having spent a most pleasant time which I would love to repeat. 

Review of THE TUSCAN CHILD by Rhys Bowen

2 Stars

I’ve come across this author’s name in connection with historical mysteries so I thought I’d give one of her standalone novels a try.  Unfortunately, I was not impressed.

There are two narratives.  One is set in 1944; Hugo Langley, an RAF pilot is shot down over German-occupied Italy.  Wounded, he takes shelter in a ruined monastery where he is found and assisted by a local woman.  The other narrative is set in 1973; Joanna Langley, after her father’s death, discovers a love letter he wrote to a woman in Tuscany named Sofia Bartoli.  The letter makes reference to “our beautiful boy” so Joanna sets off for Italy to find out what happened to Sofia and this child.  Her arrival in San Salvatore soon has Joanna connected to a murder. 

Joanna is a character with whom it is difficult to connect.  She did not have a close relationship with her father and visited him rarely, so doesn’t really grieve when he dies.  But then she sets out to discover all about his past in Italy?  She is supposed to be preparing for her bar exam but never once opens a book to study.  She is 25 years old, but she has never heard of “a cheese called mozzarella”?  At best, she can be described as insipid. 

Other characters are also problematic.  Paola is too nice and welcoming.  Why she takes such a liking to Joanna makes no sense.  Renzo constantly vacillates; on first meeting he greets Joanna with a “cold stare” and “obvious hostility” and “a scathing look” and on second meeting he asks briskly, “’Why are you still here?’”  And then at their third meeting, he’s defending her to his father and a romance begins?  One minute he is helpfully answering Joanna’s questions but then he blurts out, “’No good can come from this search.  You should go home.  Leave this place.  I have a feeling it is not safe for you to be here’” before immediately taking her to a location to help her search?  Renzo admits to owing everything good in his life to someone, yet when that person dies, he is more focused on romancing a woman he barely knows than grieving?  One minute he says, he “’had no idea, no idea’” of someone’s crimes but then in the next breath admits, “’I did suspect that he had some part in the death’” of a murdered man? 

What’s with the repeated descriptions of food?  I understand the need for local colour, but it is not really necessary to give a lesson on how to make stuffed zucchini blossoms or pici.  Every course of every meal does not need to be recounted in detail. 

The climactic scene is just so coincidental and implausible.  A stroke victim becomes spry, an earthquake occurs at a convenient time, a suitor makes an international trip and arrives at the perfect moment, and a man whose memory is failing makes a deathbed confession?!  And could the ending be any cheesier?!

To sum, I was certainly underwhelmed by this book.  There is little tension, no sense of urgency, in the plot, characters are bland and behave inconsistently, the climax relies on coincidence, and the conclusion is just too perfect. 

Review of THE LIBRARY OF LOST AND FOUND by Phaedra Patrick

2.5 Stars

Martha Storm is a middle-aged library volunteer in an English coastal village.  She caters to the needs of others, believing that “her only worth was in helping others” (66).  People take advantage of her and she lets them.  She even gave up a life with a man she loved to care for her aging parents.  A book, a collection of fairy tales, is delivered to Martha because it is inscribed with a personal message to her from her maternal grandmother Zelda.  The problem is that Zelda died under mysterious circumstances 30 years earlier.  Martha sets out to find out more about the book and to determine if her beloved grandmother is still alive.

The contemporary story is interspersed with flashbacks to Martha’s childhood.  These are given from the perspective of Betty, Martha’s mother.  What emerges is a family ruled by Thomas, a controlling husband and father.  Lillian, Martha’s younger sister, received most of Thomas’ affection; with Martha, he was emotionally distant.  Throughout the novel, there are also some fairy tales which Martha wrote when she was a young girl. 

This book depicts a journey of (re-)self-discovery.  As a child, Martha used to be exuberant and outspoken but as an adult is very submissive.  Encouraged by Zelda, she was very creative, but stopped writing after Zelda’s death.  As an adult, Martha is very timid but slowly learns to assert herself and realizes that her needs are as important as those of others.  In essence, she rediscovers her old self.

I found Martha irritating.  Given her childhood and the loss of her supportive grandmother, it is understandable that she became more like her mousy mother.  But she is now so pathetic:  she is socially awkward and doesn’t even know how to apply makeup?  Since writing stories was so important to her and obviously helped her cope, it doesn’t make sense that she stopped doing that. 

It seems the author knows little about modern libraries.  Though Martha is portrayed as a frumpy old maid (a stereotypical librarian), she is not a librarian.  The book blurb repeatedly refers to Martha as a librarian, but she is a volunteer.  More than anything, Martha wants a job as an assistant-librarian:  “She’d helped out there for over four years, had a diploma in English literature, adored the books and wanted to help people” (33).  Librarians require a degree in library science so she is not qualified for the position of assistant-librarian.  Martha doesn’t even have a home computer when librarians are expected to be expert online researchers?    

There are other unrealistic elements.  Suki, an assistant librarian, constantly speaks in malapropisms?  She refers to a book dedication as a desiccation!  In 1982, would a pre-marital pregnancy be more scandalous than a same-sex relationship?  A seventy-year-old recluse with questionable grooming who always wears the same hat and frayed, turned-up jeans (41) has a fluffy dressing gown, bubble bath, and soap with the scent of roses and vanilla (295) for surprise guests?

I picked up this novel because of its title and because I was looking for a “heartwarming and poignant tale” as promised by the book jacket.  I was disappointed in both respects because the title is totally misleading, and the narrative is clumsy rather than charming.

Review of THE BOOK OF SECOND CHANCES by Katherine Slee (New Release)

2.5 Stars

When Catriona Robinson, a beloved children’s author, dies, she leaves her granddaughter Emily grieving.  Raised by her grandmother after the death of her parents in an accident which left her physically scarred, Emily has become a virtual recluse.  Since she illustrated her grandmother’s books, Catriona’s death leaves Emily feeling she has no further purpose.  Then Emily discovers that she has ten days to follow a trail of clues if she wants to inherit her grandmother’s estate in its entirety.  Reluctantly, Emily sets off with Tyler, a childhood friend whom Catriona designated as Emily’s companion, on a journey that takes them to London and on to France and Italy. 

A problem for me was that I could not connect with Emily.  She is 28 years old but is so immature.  She suffered great tragedy when her parents died but that was 15 years earlier.  Catriona let her granddaughter remain a 13-year-old?  Emily is so self-centred and whiny that she just becomes tedious and annoying. 

As expected, the journey she undertakes is a journey of self-discovery.  The issue is that the reader is given no credit for intelligence:  the author states the obvious over and over again.  There are explanations like “Every single interaction, no matter how small, has an impact on who you turn out to be.  Every conversation, every disappointment, every touch, they all combine into one huge mess called life” and “it’s not possible to appreciate the good without the bad.  The light without the dark.  The joy without the sorrow” and “Face your fears.  Don’t give in to the voices of doubt.  Embrace the terror because you never know where it might lead you” and “no one ever really knows what goes on inside a person’s mind, or their heart, that each and every one of us have [sic] demons to battle with at some point along the way.”  A well-written novel does not need to state its themes; it will show, not tell.

There are problems with Catriona’s posthumous scavenger hunt.  There is no way that she could have foreseen that Emily would walk down a street in Paris and see a particular art shop!  People seem to carry parcels around with them just on the chance that Emily will show up?  For instance, Emily meets one man as he docks his boat; he immediately takes her for a boat ride to a hotel restaurant where he presents her with a “brown paper parcel tied up with string”!

There are other events that are illogical.  A woman says to Emily, “Let me show you what it is I asked you here for’” and then begins “to search through stacks of books, then clambered onto one of the desks and moved aside dusty cardboard boxes from a top shelf” in order to find it?  This same woman had hotel reservations made for Emily and Tyler though she didn’t know they would be in Paris on that day?  Tyler seems to have things happen to him even though there is no time for those things to happen.  The contents of Catriona’s will are only revealed four weeks after her death?  Tyler’s dad is called William and then Charles?  Why did Tyler and Adrianna disappear as soon as tragedy struck?  Emily hasn’t seen Tyler since her 21^st birthday 7 years ago?  Does Catriona have no flaws?

There is little to keep a reader’s interest in the book.  It is so slow-paced and plodding.  I kept wanting to abandon it but felt obligated to finish since I had received a galley.  Truly, I feel as if I gave The Book of Second Chances more chances than it deserved.

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

Review of MERCY HOUSE by Alena Dillon

3.5 Stars

Sister Evelyn and two other nuns have operated a shelter for abused women in Brooklyn for over 25 years when they and their unconventional methods come under scrutiny from the Catholic Church.  Their examiner is Bishop Robert Hawkins, a man with whom Sister Evelyn shares an unhappy history.  Some of their practices, the women know, the church would not condone.  Will the nuns’ forward-thinking approaches and the animosity between Sister Evelyn and Bishop Hawkins result in Mercy House being closed?

The novel focuses on Sister Evelyn, an elderly woman who has been a nun for 50 years.  She is kind and compassionate and utterly courageous in defending those in her care.  One of the residents of Mercy House tells her, “’Sister, you’re one badass bitch.’”  This feisty woman is, however, not perfect.  She has her flaws.  In encounters with the bishop, for example, she becomes meek and mild.  As she admits, she is guilty of the sin of pride, and her bitterness has tainted her relationships with her siblings. 

Sister Evelyn is a dynamic character who learns about herself.  She is older but proves to be capable of changing.  For instance, she realizes that she has held on to grudges for so long that they’ve turned into resentment:  “She’d opened Mercy House twenty-five years earlier, but was only just beginning to truly understand mercy and its value to the person who bestows it.” 

I appreciate the non-stereotypical portrayal of nuns.  They are shown to be real people.  One of the sisters practices Reiki.  They all have their indulgences.  They even use profane language occasionally.  One of them dares say, “’from my experience, the whole virginity thing is overstated.’”  Besides learning about the nuns, the reader learns about the women who have taken shelter at Mercy House.  Each of the current residents is given a chapter in which flashbacks reveal their backstories.  The situations of these women illustrate why Mercy House is needed and why a singular focus on religious conversion, which the church wants, may not be sufficient.    

The portrayal of Bishop Hawkins is problematic.  He is beyond despicable.  The nuns call him the Hawk, and Sister Evelyn describes him as “’a weasel, a mole man, a snake.’”  One of the residents tells him, “’You may have more degrees than a thermometer, but you’re ugly as hell . . . you arrogant mother-fucker.’”  He is too evil to be believable.  He has not one redeeming quality. 

Bishop Hawkins is used to criticize not Catholicism but the church.  The book discusses how the church squanders funds.  For instance, there is little respect for the lavish lifestyle of Pope Benedict:  “Pope Benedict XVI wore red velvet capes with ermine fur trim.  He commissioned his own cologne, which Evelyn called Pope-pourri.  He was chauffeured around in a Mercedes.  He had a personal library of more than twenty thousand books.  It took two hundred architects and engineers to restore his Rome palace, and he resided in his other palace while the construction was underway.” 

The book also focuses on abuse and the imbalance and misuse of power in the church:  “The Vatican had swept three thousand cases of priest pedophilia under the rug, protecting those criminals at the cost of their own morality and worldwide respect, but when it came to nuns, they wanted blood.”  The nuns are under the control of hypocritical priests who accuse nuns of immoral behaviour:  “’You tempted me, damn you. . . . These cassocks will need cleaning.  Consider it part of your penance.’”

The novel touches on very serious topics, but there are also touches of humour.  When replying to a question about how her manner of dress bears witness to the dignity and simplicity of her vocation, Sister Evelyn replies, “I try to keep body glitter to a minimum.  But I’m only human.”  At the end, before she heads off to battle an injustice, Evelyn thinks, “Knights took their trusty steeds into battle.  Evelyn would take a Honda Odyssey.  But if an Odyssey was good enough for Homer, she supposed it would be good enough for her.”

This book would make a good movie.  At different parts, it inspires tears, laughter, and out loud cheering.