Review of THE ALMOST WIFE by Gail Anderson-Dargatz

 2.5 Stars

I enjoyed the author’s previous books, especially The Cure for Death by Lightning and A Recipe for Bees, but I was disappointed with this domestic thriller.

Kira is engaged to Aaron, an older, financially successful man.  She has a good life with a daughter Evie and a nice house.  Her only problems are an anxious teen step-daughter Olive and Madison, Aaron’s second wife who is stalking Kira and Olive.  Madison’s erratic behaviour has the emotionally fragile Kira desperately trying to protect her family.  She flees and takes Evie and Olive to Manitoulin Island where she spent her youth and owns a cottage. 

A major problem is that events make little sense.  After having a child, Kira is worried about announcing her engagement with the man who is presumed to be the child’s father?  Olive’s behaviour in Little Current stretches credulity.  And such an anxious teen would just run into the bush?  Kira, who has lived in the city for years, has a basic outdoor survival kit with her?  A mother would leave her infant alone in the truck, not once but several times?!  Someone breaks a window to get into a building and then locks the door afterwards? 

Being familiar with Manitoulin Island, I loved the setting.  The dark and stormy night cliché, however, I could have done without.  It is so obviously used to create suspense, but it is so contrived.  The flashbacks to Kira’s childhood when her mother poisoned Kira’s relationship with her father are so obviously a parallel to what is happening to Olive – I can picture the storyboard here. 

Imagery is also forced and unnatural:  “Spiderwebs, covered in dew and catching the low sun, were suddenly visible in the long, uncut grass of the yard, hundreds of them, thousands of them.  They shimmered, vibrating in the morning breeze.  Until now, I’d had no idea they were there – these traps, all these fucking traps”  and “the heavy birds lifted into the air, flying so low as they passed that I could not only hear the whistling of their wings, but feel the rush of air dislocated by their labored flight.”  And why the American spelling?

The characters are difficult to like or care about.  Kira, for instance, is so scattered and reckless.  Everyone seems shallow.  The fact that more than one person blames problems on a difficult childhood suggests a general lack of maturity.  The motivation of the villain for all behaviour is fear of abandonment?    

The author’s attempt to write a thriller is not successful.  The result is trite, contrived, and predictable.  This seems a degradation of her writing skills.

Review of GIRLS WHO LIE by Eva Björg Ægisdóttir

 4 Stars

Having read and been very impressed with The Creak on the Stairs, the first in the Forbidden Iceland series, I was anxious to read the second installment, Girls Who Lie.  It did not disappoint.

Seven months after her disappearance, the body of Maríanna is found.  A troubled single mother, she was thought to have committed suicide, leaving behind her 15-year-old daughter Hekla who seems to have settled happily into her foster home.  It soon becomes clear, however, that Maríanna did not abandon her daughter but was brutally murdered.  Elma, along with Sævar and Hörður, her CID colleagues in Akranes, investigates, and the number of suspects grows, especially because, as the title suggests, people are not always honest.

Interspersed periodically in the present-time case investigation are diary-like confessional entries written by an unknown woman.  These first-person passages cover a number of years, beginning fifteen years earlier when she is suffering with post-partum depression.  As her daughter grows up, the single mother has difficulty bonding with her child who behaves differently than other children.  These sections are heartbreaking and disturbing at the same time.  For me, much of the interest in the book lay in trying to find the connection between these events in the past and Maríanna’s death. 

I appreciated seeing some growth in Elma.  Her intelligence and determination are again evident but so is the fact that she is gradually recovering from the trauma that brought her back to Akranes.  She is happy in her job, has become accustomed to the smallness of her old hometown, and has developed comfortable working relationships and friendships with colleagues. 

The novel touches on a number of difficult issues such as psychological manipulation, childhood neglect, suicide, teenage pregnancy, post-partum depression, sexual orientation, and bullying.  All are covered sensitively.  Certainly some of these traumatic events explain the behaviour of characters. 

The narrative is very cleverly plotted.  One bit of misdirection left me stunned; I made assumptions which I was intended to make but should not have.  I didn’t always question inconsistencies and that is my failing as a reader because the author does not cheat.  Though there are ample red herrings, all the clues are also there, so that the case’s resolution is satisfying.

As does the first book in the series, this one establishes a real sense of place.  Anyone who has visited Iceland will recognize the descriptions of setting.  I know little about the Icelandic justice system, so enjoyed learning about the country’s treatment of minors.

I highly recommend this police procedural.  With its intricate plotting and engaging protagonist, this is an accomplished novel that maintains the reader’s interest throughout.  

Review of THE SPACE BETWEEN US by Thrity Umrigar

 3 Stars

I had come across Thrity Umrigar’s name a few times and so decided to choose this book as my audio companion on morning walks.  I was a tad disappointed.

The book focuses on two women from different backgrounds living in Bombay.  Sera Dubash is an upper-middle class Parsi widow.  Bhima, an illiterate Hindu, has worked for Sera for twenty years.  Bhima is heartbroken that her granddaughter Maya, whom she has been raising since the death of Maya’s parents, has left college because she is pregnant.  Meanwhile, Sera’s daughter Dinaz and her son-in-law Viraf are happily awaiting the arrival of their first child.  From the beginning it is obvious that very different fates await the two unborn children because of the economic classes to which their mothers belong.   

The title clearly suggests that a space divides Sera and Bhima, a space that is not bridged.  Though Sera has been paying for Maya’s education, Sera does not see Bhima as an equal.  For instance, Bhima must sit on the floor to have her tea and she is not allowed to use the family’s dishes.  The two women have both had hardships, both having suffered at the hands of their husbands, yet that is not enough to bring them together.  Sera’s choice when faced with a devastating truth is very telling. 

One of the themes is that women suffer unfairly in a society dominated by men.  Sera’s husband was physically and emotionally abusive, and Bhima’s husband abandoned her because he blamed her for actions she took during a crisis.  Maya becomes pregnant because she is coerced into having sex and is left to deal with the pregnancy while the man escapes any consequences for his behaviour.  Even when the truth is known about a man’s egregious behaviour, women accept it. 

What bothered me is the piling on of tragedies.  Every conceivable wrong is experienced by the women: domestic abuse, sexual abuse, a domineering mother-in-law, abject poverty, abandonment, loss of children, illness, economic exploitation, and prejudice.  It almost felt like the author had a list which she checked off once she’d included that trauma in the narrative. 

The ending is emotionally manipulative.  Bhima’s actions at the end are supposed to suggest that she has an epiphany, but it seems trite and artificial.  Given what awaits her in her future, her spending money as she does makes absolutely no sense and is totally out of character.  The author obviously wanted to end on a hopeful note, but the reality of Bhima’s situation offers little hope. 

This is not a bad book, but it doesn’t offer much that is original or exceptional.  The plot is predictable and the growth supposedly experienced by Bhima is unconvincing.  There is a sequel, The Secrets Between Us, and I’m torn as to whether I will add it to my iPod. 

Review of ASTRA by Cedar Bowers

 4 Stars

This novel is a complex character study of one woman named Astra Winter Sorrow Brine and ten people who encounter her at different stages of her life. 

The narrative unfolds in chronological order so the reader is given a view of Astra beginning just before her birth and ending with her as a mature woman.  Various people (five men and five women) give their perspectives; some know her for a long time and some, for a much shorter time.  The final chapter is the only one in first person and that is from Astra’s point of view. 

The novel asks how well we can ever really know someone else.  People describe Astra as “courageous” and “a bit helpless, and desperate for someone to take care of her” and “a marvellous actress, gifted at embellishing her panic or pain to garner sympathy” and having “trouble processing criticism without feeling unreasonably rejected and hurt” and lacking “clarity and strength” and “unconventionally intelligent” and “good at hiding her feelings from other people” and “an impressive woman.”  The point is that Astra, like all people, is a complicated person who “is as unknowable as a still, black lake:  there’s just no way to tell what’s underneath or how deep down she goes.” 

Each of the ten people believes he/she is describing Astra objectively, but that is not the case.  Their portraits are shaded by who they are, their life experiences, their hopes and desires, and their own shortcomings and failings.  For instance, it makes sense that a woman who spends little time with her son with whom she has “a harder and harder time relating” and from whom she feels distanced would be envious and critical of Astra’s closeness to her son, even finding “their intimacy a bit revolting.”  Certainly several of the men in Astra’s life view her more in terms of what they want in a woman rather than who Astra really is.  And because of their motives, some people give descriptions that are rather unreliable. 

When trying to form an accurate impression of Astra, the reader must also remember that the people describing her encounter her in different roles at different times in her life.  Brendan meets Astra when she first moves to the big city and is struggling to adapt to an unfamiliar world; Astra would not be the same person were he to meet her years later.  We change over time and take on different roles.  Just the other day, I posted a photo of myself kayaking, and a former student commented, “Seeing you in a kayak is a strange cognitive disconnect for me.”  It made sense because he knew me as his high school teacher; likewise, I experience cognitive dissonance when I think of him as the father of a young child.

Of course what happens is that people end up revealing as much about themselves as about the person they are describing.  For example, Lauren initially has only positive opinions about Astra but when she suspects that her husband is having an “emotional affair” with her, she begins finding fault with Astra.  Lauren’s insecurity is what is emphasized in her criticisms that Astra “isn’t perfect” and is “always overemphasizing how tired she is” and “is a little greedy as well.”  I love Astra’s summary that “We’re one human life stacked on top of the traumas and the tragedies of another.”

What is impressive is that everyone is portrayed realistically.  Everyone is shown to have both positive and negative traits.  Astra is sometimes selfish but she can also be generous.  Sometimes she wants others to look after her, but then she wants to be independent.   She is not always likeable but “considering her, and all she’s done, and all she’s lived through,” it is not possible to be unsympathetic to her and even admire her. 

This book is thought-provoking.  It will have you thinking about how others see you and how well we really know others.  One character mentions wanting to understand Astra “as a whole rather than as a collection of parts, yet thinking about her is like peering through a kaleidoscope.”  This is what the book provides:  a collection of views but none is complete.  And that’s how we live life - without a complete understanding of anyone. 

This novel appeared on the Giller Prize longlist and deservedly so.  Readers cannot but be astounded at the complexity of its characterization.   

Review of NEVER FORGET by Martin Michaud

 3 Stars

I think I just finished my first Quebec noir novel. 

Set in Montreal, the book opens with the kidnapping, torture, and killing of Judith Harper, a psychiatric researcher.  Then there’s the delivery of a cryptic, threatening note to a prominent lawyer, Nathan Lawson, who goes into hiding after reading it.  And then André Lortie, a homeless man in possession of both Harper and Lawson’s wallets, commits suicide.  And that’s just the beginning of the body count.  Victor Lessard and his partner Jacinthe Taillon lead the investigation which has them looking into events which took place fifty years earlier, in the 1960s. 

Though this is the first Victor Lessard novel translated into English, I subsequently learned that it is actually the third book in the series.  Why do publishers do this??!!  There are repeated references to Lessard’s backstory and another important case that left the detective scarred.  I assume this information and case are the focus of the previous two books. 

Victor is middle-aged, a divorced father of two.  Barely hanging on to sobriety, he suffers from anxiety and depression and fits of rage.  He is described as “tortured, surly, and stubborn.”  He is romantically involved with Nadja, a police officer twelve years his junior.  In some ways, he reminds me of Harry Hole in the series by Jo Nesbø. 

Victor’s traumatic family history, intelligence, and determination make him a sympathetic character, but his partner Jacinthe has virtually no appealing qualities.  She is insensitive and totally tactless.  She is crude, mouthy, and belligerent, and a poster child for police brutality.  She is also a caricature of the doughnut-loving cop because she is food obsessed.  Her main skill is her ability to drive through Montreal’s snow-covered roads.  I did find the repeated references to her eating to be annoying and the many descriptions of her large size to be distasteful. 

The plot is very complex with a lot of storylines and characters.  It is easy to get lost because characters are sometimes identified by first name, sometimes by surname, sometimes by nickname, and sometimes by job title.  At over 500 pages, the book could use some editing; certainly, the subplot involving Victor’s son is rather tangential.  The pace is fast with lots of action, but the ending is somewhat unsatisfying because it relies on a conspiracy theory and involves a long-winded confession. 

Interspersed throughout are short references to key moments in Quebec history (FLQ October crisis, 1980 referendum) when the province was struggling with its identity.  There is supposed to be a connection to a character who is also searching for a sense of self, but I found it a bit of a stretch.  What also irked me is that, though there are French-Canadian characters, there is no French dialogue.  If it were not for the local colour, the reader might think the novel was set in any city.  Apparently, the French title of the book is Je me souviens, the official motto of Quebec.  That phrase has much more meaning in French so much is lost in translation.

I can’t say I didn’t enjoy the book; it’s just that I would have preferred a more amenable partner for Victor, a judicious editing of unnecessary plot elements, and some use of the French language.  The use of a conspiracy theory as a linchpin to the murders really bothered me.   

Review of GOOD EGGS by Rebecca Hardiman

 3 Stars

I was looking for an audiobook and came across this title which I remembered a friend had recommended to me.  It provided a few chuckles, but the over-the-top antics are not to my taste.

The book focuses on three generations of the Gogarty family living in Dublin.  Millie, 83, is the zany grandmother.  She is garrulous and exuberant.  Lonely, she engages in shoplifting.  Exasperated with his mother’s behaviour, Kevin, Millie’s middle-aged son, engages a home companion, an American named Sylvia Phenning.  Millie hates the idea of a home aide but Sylvia wins her over with her amenable personality, though there are clear indications Sylvia has her own reasons for being so charming and accommodating.  The third Gogarty is Kevin’s 16-year-old daughter Aideen who is unhappy and so acts out; she is sent to a boarding school but that decision results in Aideen’s becoming more rebellious. 

This is a character novel, but I had problems with all three of them.  Millie is inconsistent; there are times when she is clear-thinking and other times when she is obviously suffering from dementia, so much so that it is not safe for her to be unsupervised.  Are we to believe that when she and her granddaughter take a trip together, her symptoms of cognitive decline disappear, even though changes in environment and routine are a main trigger of dementia episodes?  Kevin is just a self-absorbed dullard who is insensitive to the feelings of others; sending a difficult teenager to a strict boarding school is his best parenting technique?  And his mid-life crisis is just so clichéd.  Of the three, Aideen is the most sympathetic character; she is experiencing typical adolescent angst, trying to find her own identity; unfortunately, the extent of her thoughtlessness tasks this reader’s patience.

The one redeeming quality is that all three characters are forced to acknowledge their flaws and face the consequences of their bad choices.  It is interesting to see their personal growth, though in the case of Kevin and Millie it seems contrived and a bit tardy. 

The book starts slowly with not much happening, though readers will easily predict Sylvia’s agenda; then one madcap adventure follows another.  Millie’s escape and the Millie and Aideen roadshow are a bit much.  The exaggerated escapades border on slapstick, the type of humour I least enjoy. 

This book is entertaining in parts, but it has little originality.  The crazy grannie trope has certainly been done, and much of the Irish humour relies on stereotypes.  Because nothing really sets it apart, the book will not be memorable for me.  Of course, not every book is for every reader, and I admit to not enjoying humour in written form.  If silly antics appeal to you, take this one with you to the beach or cottage. 

Review of THE YELLOW WIFE by Sadeqa Johnson

 3.5 Stars

For listening on my walks, historical fiction audiobooks have become my genre of choice.  This is the latest and it certainly kept my interest.

The book opens on a plantation in Virginia in 1850.  Pheby Delores Brown, 17, is the daughter of Ruth, a black healer, and Jacob Bell, the owner of the plantation.  She has a privileged status and is even taught to read, write, and play the piano.  When circumstances change on the plantation, she is sent to a slave jail in Richmond where she comes to the attention of the jail owner, Rubin Lapier.  Because slave traders were considered disreputable so marriage to a white woman was impossible, Rubin chooses Pheby as his “wife” despite her already being pregnant with a child fathered by a slave on the Bell plantation.  She becomes mother to several of Rubin’s children. 

Pheby is the narrator and she emerges as a complex character.  She is courageous, determined, and resilient.  She is determined to not be a slave in her mind, and this is the message she tries to instill in her children.  Being the mistress of the jail, she knows she is more fortunate than other slaves, but, to survive, she has no choice but to become complicit in the slave trade.  She does, however, show care and compassion as she prepares girls for auction as “fancy girls.”  Her position gives her little power against the injustices committed by Rubin.  She quickly learns that she must be submissive or her son Monroe will suffer. 

The novel examines motherhood, specifically what a mother will do to protect her children regardless of who their father is.  She loves both Monroe and her daughters (fathered by Rubin) and wants a better life for all of them.  This means that she must sacrifice and compromise.  She ends up giving up so much in order to ensure that her children will be free of their backgrounds. 

This book is not for the faint of heart.  There are detailed descriptions of humiliations, daily cruelties, torture, and sexual abuse.  Rubin’s jail is called the Devil’s Half-Acre, and he is indeed a devil, adept at both physical and psychological torture.  (In the earlier part of the novel, he has a female parallel in Missus Delphina.)

One disappointment is the climax.  The scene, which the reader knows is coming, is rushed, and there is little suspense.    It just falls flat.  On the other hand, it is appropriate that there is not a fairy tale ending either.  For some, freedom is not a possibility. 

Apparently, the story was inspired by a real jail and jailer’s family.  It certainly does present an interesting perspective, that of an enslaved concubine. 

Review of THE SANATORIUM by Sarah Pearse

 2 Stars

I listened to this book on my morning walks, and I’m sure that the other walkers I encountered must have wondered about my head shaking and eye rolling.  There is just so much wrong with this novel.

Elin Warner, a police detective on leave because she suffers panic attacks after a botched investigation, and her boyfriend travel to Le Sommet, a remote luxury hotel in the Swiss Alps, to attend the engagement party of her estranged brother Isaac.  Her attendance is not to celebrate but to confront Isaac about the death of their brother Sam many years ago because she suspects Isaac was responsible. 

Shortly after their arrival, Isaac’s fiancée Laure goes missing and another woman is found dead.  Because of snowstorms and an avalanche, the Swiss police cannot come to the hotel, so Elin offers to investigate.  Bodies pile up in this locked-room mystery.  The creep factor is that the hotel, though almost completely renovated, was once a sanatorium for people with tuberculosis. 

What irritated me more than anything is how inept and inconsistent Elin is.  Sometimes she panics and hesitates, and other times she goes off by herself even when the danger mounts – and despite the fact that not waiting for back-up in an investigation led to her leave of absence from her job.  Sometimes it takes her forever to make a deduction:  a body is found with hands and feet bound, and wearing a gas mask, and with amputated fingers, yet it is only the presence of sandbags that prompts her to conclude that this death was not an accident?!  She ignores obvious things like the bracelets found on the dead when those are so much a part of the murderer’s signature.  At other times, she jumps to conclusions; she suspects at least three different people and is proven incorrect each time.  She shares information with everyone, even her brother whom she doesn’t trust, but keeps information from the Swiss police?  If this is the way she normally did her work, surely she would have been dismissed for incompetence!

Considering the body count, a strong motive is required, but that is certainly not the case.  The explanation given by the killer is so complicated and convoluted that it is just ridiculous.  And don’t get me started on the epilogue!  The possibilities suggested are all illogical.

The writing style is also annoying.  The style is so overwritten as to be overwhelming.  Phrases appear again and again, as do descriptions.  How many times must the reader’s attention be drawn to the amount of glass in the hotel’s structure?  How often does Elin try to grasp at some idea that her mind trips over?  All of Elin’s thoughts and emotions are mansplained.  And are eyes actually so revealing of one’s state of mind?

The chapters are short and always end with a dramatic, suspenseful line.  What is irritating is that the next chapter picks up from exactly the same spot.  Why would a conversation be divided into two chapters?  This is nothing more than a cheap use of cliffhangers. 

Stay away from this mystery unless you like a totally amateurish detective, unsupportive and patronizing male characters, and an unrealistic plot with a nonsensical resolution.  The epilogue suggests that there will be a sequel.  I regret wasting my time on this book so I will certainly be avoiding any follow-up.