Review of THE SEVEN SISTERS by Lucinda Riley

 3 Stars

This historical romance, first in a series, was chosen as a book club read.  It’s a worldwide bestseller, but it’s not a genre I usually read; in fact, I usually avoid such global bestsellers. 

Six girls adopted by Pa Salt gather at Atlantis, their childhood home in Switzerland, to mourn the passing of their adoptive father.  Each is given a letter and a clue to her true heritage.   Each daughter’s journey is the subject of a novel; this novel focuses on Maia, the first to have been adopted.  She ends up travelling to Brazil where she starts to piece together her family history.  She is assisted by Floriano, a writer and historian. 

Maia’s search leads her to the story of Izabela Bonifacio 80 years in the past.  Izabela, Maia’s great-grandmother, travels to Europe and meets Paul Landowski, a sculptor, and Laurent Brouilly, his assistant, who have been chosen to create the immense Christ the Redeemer statue which now dominates Rio de Janeiro.  She falls in love with Laurent, but she is already engaged to Gustavo Aires Cabral; that marriage into a prominent family is of utmost importance to Izabela’s father. 

The premise of the books is like that found in soap operas.  A mysterious, very wealthy man, known affectionately as Pa Salt, adopts six girls from around the world.  They are cared for my Marina, a live-in housekeeper who acts as a surrogate mother.  Pa Salt dies suddenly and is immediately buried at sea in a lead-lined coffin before his daughters even arrive at their family home.  The daughters know very little about their adoptive father, and it seems that none have questioned the source of his great wealth or her origins.  This premise to justify a series of books is rather weak.

Izabela’s story is a cliché:  a pretty, rich girl feels suffocated and yearns to escape the role her family has chosen for her.  Because of family pressure, she becomes engaged to a man she does not love.  Then she falls in love with a poor, handsome man who would never be seen as an appropriate husband.  When she does marry, she has a sour and dour mother-in-law who makes her life miserable. 

The romance elements are totally predictable.  It is not a surprise that Izabela is betrothed to a man she does not love but falls in love with a handsome Frenchman.  A romantic relationship between Maia and Floriano is also expected, though I couldn’t understand Floriano’s appeal since he’s a patronizing man who tells Maia what to wear, what to drink, and how to feel. 

The aspect that most interested me is the description of the construction of the Christ the Redeemer monument.  The author incorporates real historical figures like Paul Landowski and Heitor da Silva Costa, the designer of the statue.  Silva Costa had a daughter named Maria Elisa; in the novel she becomes Izabela’s best friend.  Fiction and historical facts are combined in such a way that the reader has to do research to differentiate history from the author’s imaginings. 

I was bothered by the focus on beauty.  Maia is described as being exceptionally beautiful, as is her great-grandmother.  Laurent is very handsome, as is Floriano.  Gustavo, Izabela’s betrothed, is repeatedly described as resembling a ferret.  Beauty seems to be equated with goodness; lack of beauty seems to be a bad quality.  I find such superficiality disturbing. 

Dialogue is anything but natural.  Even friends and family members speak in a stilted, formal way.  What is also unnatural is the repetition of names in conversations.  People do not constantly repeat the name of the person they are addressing.  For instance, in a short, two-page encounter with her sister Tiggy, Maia says Tiggy’s name four times, even though no one else is present. 

Maia’s discoveries focus on her great-grandmother.  Wouldn’t she be more interested in her mother’s story?  In the novel, her mother’s story is almost an afterthought.  I can only imagine that Izabela’s story is more important for the entire series.  I can certainly hazard a guess as to the identity of the young boy Izabela rescues while she is in France!

Despite my negative comments above, I can’t say that I hated the book.  Though I wish it had more depth, it was entertaining enough and I had to keep reminding myself that I was reading a book whose main goal was entertainment.  At 450+ pages, it’s fairly lengthy and could be condensed, but it’s an easy read which would make a perfect escapist read for a holiday. 

Review of ATTEND by West Camel

 4 Stars

Recently I had the pleasure of reading Fall by West Camel and it wowed me (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/02/review-of-fall-by-camel-west.html); therefore, I couldn’t resist reading his debut novel, Attend.  It’s one of the most unusual books I’ve read – in a good way.

As the cover suggests, the book has three intertwined stories.  Anne, 45, is a recovering heroin addict who has returned to Deptford to reconnect with her family.  Sam is a young gay man who has recently moved to southeast London.  Sam and Anne’s live intersect when Sam falls in love with Derek, a man whom Anne has known for years.  More importantly, their lives are connected by their separate friendships with Deborah, an old woman who tells them fantastical tales of her life, including finding an intricate needlework motif she found in a tunnel.  She believes that motif has granted her immortality. 

The three characters have much in common.  As a recovering addict, a gay man, and an old woman, they live on the margins of society.  They could be described as lost souls who are well acquainted with loneliness.  They are struggling to be seen and are looking for a sense of belonging.  Anne, for instance, is seeking a place within her family; her drug usage meant she was largely absent for years.  Now she is trying to earn her family’s trust and reconnect with her mother, daughter and grandson.  Sam, a newcomer to the city, is looking for someone who will understand, accept, and love him.  Deborah, an old woman, is ignored by virtually everyone; in fact, she is surprised when Anne and Sam see her because “’Very few people do.’”  (I found myself humming “Eleanor Rigby” when taking breaks from reading the book.)

The most interesting character for me was Deborah.  Her stories of her past are heart-breaking, and now she is overwhelmingly lonely and feels invisible.  There is a sense of mystery about her:  more than once the reader will question if she is real.  Certainly, some of her appearances can only be described as uncanny.  At times, it seems as if she is prescient; at others, she behaves almost like one of the Moirai.  Does she seek out Anne and Sam because she senses kindred spirits who might help her:  “Everything was simply found by those who happened to be looking in the right places”?  Though she wants them to attend to her, to be present and pay attention and take care of her, she ends up helping them.  Her stories help Anne and Sam make sense of their own lives.  It’s fitting that she’s a seamstress because she binds them together and helps them mend their lives. 

The book is difficult to categorize:  it doesn’t fit any one genre.  It has mystery, romance, elements of historical and literary fiction, and touches of fairy tales (Hansel and Gretel) and mythology (the thread of life).  Anne and Sam are both on journeys of self-discovery.  And there’s magic realism.  This latter genre does not generally appeal to me, but the author was not heavy-handed with the fantastical.  Readers can opt for logical explanations for the surreal events or fully embrace the magical moments. 

The narrative is not action-packed, but it is a compelling read.  A very unique plot written in elegant prose reminds us of the importance of connection; by working together, all the characters find some contentment.  Deborah is obsessed with a complex needlework motif, but she weaves an equally intricate tapestry when she brings Anne and Sam into her life. 

When I have the time to re-read this novel, I’m sure I’ll notice more threads to which I should attend.

Review of YOU MADE A FOOL OF DEATH WITH YOUR BEAUTY by Akwaeke Emezi (New Release)

 2.5 Stars

I should have hesitated requesting an ARC of a romance, but I didn’t because of the author whose name often appears on awards lists.  I wish I had hesitated because this book didn’t change my opinion of the genre.

Feyi  Adekola is a young widow; her husband Jonah was killed in an accident five years earlier.  She lives with her best friend Joy who convinces Feyi to begin dating again.  An encounter with one man leads to another with Nasir who takes her on a luxury trip to a tropical island where his father Alim, a celebrity chef, has arranged for Feyi to be one of the artists in an exhibit.  As soon as Feyi meets Alim, she is attracted to him and quickly becomes obsessed with him. 

Feyi is not a likeable character.  Having grieved for five years, she wants to be alive again.  (It’s impossible to not know this desire because the word alive appears 35 times in the text!)  But she makes such stupid and dangerous choices.  Who has sex with a stranger in a bathroom and insists he not wear a condom?  She comes across as so selfish:  she transforms from a grieving widow to choosing to do whatever makes her feel alive.  Her attitude seems to be to do what makes her happy and the heck with everything else?!  After an argument, she is focused on her material possessions:  “’He threw out all my stuff.” 

The relationship between Feyi and Alim has so many issues.  First of all, there’s the love at first sight trope.  As soon as she sees Alim, Feyi is dazzled by his handsomeness.  This is supposed to be the foundation of a relationship that is “deep enough to uproot lives”?  Feyi worries about how Jonah would react to her having a meaningful relationship with someone, but she doesn’t worry about what he would think of her having casual, unprotected sex with a stranger?  Finally, connecting with someone who has experienced a loss/trauma similar to yours is known as trauma bonding; however, confusing shared trauma for compatibility is one of the most toxic relationship patterns you can follow. 

Repetition is a major problem.  Conversations between Feyi and Alim are long-winded and repetitive.  They keep having a “should we/shouldn’t we” discussion.  The same problem occurs in conversations between Feyi and Joy.  They are supposed to be best friends, but they never talk about anything other than sex and their sexual partners.  Amidst those conversations, don’t look for plot:  the summary at the beginning is the entire plot.  And on the topic of needless repetition . . . how often does the reader need to be told how beautiful Feyi is and how handsome Alim is?!   Even the writing style is repetitive:  “Feyi cut her a look” and “Joy cut her a look” and “Feyi cut her eyes at him” and “She cut her eyes at him” and “Nasir cut his eyes at her” and “Feyi cut her eyes at her best friend” and “Alim cut his eyes at his son” and “Lorraine cut her eyes at him” and “Alim cut his eyes at her” and “Feyi cut her eyes at her best friend”  and “He cut his eyes at her” and “Joy cut her eyes at Feyi” and “Feyi cut her eyes at him” and “Alim cut his eyes at her” and “Feyi cut her eyes at him”?!!

There are other cringe-worthy expressions:  “There were so many lessons she’d love to learn from his hands” and “there was no way she could say no” and “’Why did you have to kiss me?’”  Some scenes are cringe-worthy:  for instance, the two kitchen scenes (when Feyi licks mango foam off Alim’s finger and when Alim “stepped behind her and brought his arms around, lightly placing his hands over hers”) are so overdone!

Feyi is supposedly an artist, one good enough to have been in exhibits.  Why, then, does she devote almost no time to her art?  Getting ready for her trip to the tropical island where she will have a piece of art in an exhibit, not once does she worry about her art; instead, “She’d spent four days packing, trying on every single outfit under Joy’s critical eye, picking out jewelry and sandals and sundresses, makeup and a bottled array of oils, from coconut to coffee to jojoba laced with tea tree for her scalp.”  Art is not central to her life because she “stepped into her artist persona” only when necessary and worries more that her braids in an updo “was totally the wrong look for this outfit”?!  Art certainly doesn’t seem to be a passion. 

I could applaud the inclusion of bisexual characters who are not often included in mainstream fiction, but merely mentioning that Feyi and Alim have had same-sex relationships in the past hardly qualifies as an exploration of bisexuality. 

The book is about taking a second chance at love, but I wish I hadn’t taken a chance on this romance. 

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

Review of EVERY SUMMER AFTER by Carley Fortune (New Release)

 3 Stars

As regular readers of my reviews know, romance is not my usual genre so they may be surprised that I’m reviewing a romance novel.  I requested a digital galley of Every Summer After because it is set in Barry’s Bay, my hometown and the place where my husband and I rent a cottage every fall.  I was interested in how the town would be portrayed in the novel.

The book has a dual timeline:  Now and Then.  In the sections set in the past, Percy (Persephone) Fraser starts spending summers in Barry’s Bay when her parents buy a cottage there.  She meets their neighbours:  Sue Florek and her two sons, Charlie and Sam.  Percy and Sam, both 13 years of age when they first meet, quickly become inseparable for six summers.  Friendship turns to romance. 

In the present sections, Percy is now 30, and she hasn’t spoken to Sam for twelve years.  Charlie calls to tell her that Sue has died so Percy travels north from Toronto.  A meeting with Sam is inevitable.  Will they be able to move past the rift that tore them apart and to find their way back to each other?

As a romance, this novel is totally predictable.  It certainly uses several common romance tropes:  soul mates, friends to lovers, and second chances.  I guessed what would cause the rift as soon as all the main characters were introduced.  The ending is equally predictable.  Lovers of romances will be pleased that familiar, tried-and-tested scenarios are used throughout.  Unfortunately, I dislike formulaic books with predictable plots.  I skimmed through some reviews of the novel and found so many comparisons to other authors, especially Emily Henry and Christina Lauren.  I guess this is not surprising since they probably all follow the same romance conventions; in fact, the author even mentions these romance writers in her Author’s Note.

Percy and Sam’s relationship when they are teens is convincing.  Teenage love is exactly like Percy describes it:  “plotted, dreamed, obsessed.”  Hormones affect decisions, and drama usually ensues.  Their relationship as adults, however, is less credible.  I found it overwrought.  Percy seems in a constant state of nervous excitement or anxiety.  Her hands are always shaking and she is often on the verge of a panic attack.  Surely, in 12 years, the two of them would be better able to communicate and behave with less adolescent rashness.

I appreciated that the characters are so distinct.  Delilah and Charlie in particular stand out in this regard.  Their personalities are clearly described, though being able to predict how they will react and what they will say every time they appear becomes somewhat tedious.  As an adolescent, Sam seems a bit too mature and perfect, though there is bias because we see him from Percy’s perspective.  Percy’s portrayal as a teenager is very realistic, especially in terms of her insecurity and desire to fit in, but I did find her rather immature as an adult.  After a dozen years, she still hasn’t moved on?  She doesn’t apologize to a friend for over a decade?

I wish a different event had been used to bring together Sam and Percy.  A death and funeral work well, but Sue’s funeral is so obviously just an inciting incident.  Sam and Charlie have no tasks to take care of in terms of funeral arrangements so Sam is able to spend virtually all his time with Percy?  And no one seems especially sad.  Percy says “Sue was like family” and Sue “treated me like a daughter” yet she is so unemotional throughout? 

The book is well-written in terms of grammatical correctness; I would expect nothing less from an editor with a Bachelor of Journalism.  The casual style makes for an easy read, but I was annoyed with the repetition.  For instance, some form of groan is used 16 times, and do we really need to be reminded again and again of the crease in Sam’s bottom lip? 

So back to why I wanted to read this book:  its setting.  I couldn’t believe that a writer for Refinery29, a digital media and entertainment website which the author helped launch in Canada, referred to Barry’s Bay as being in northern Ontario (https://www.refinery29.com/en-ca/2021/12/10776418/every-summer-after-carley-fortune-excerpt)!  Like many people who enjoy recognizing locales with which they are familiar, I enjoyed the references to life in Barry’s Bay.  I used to get ice-cream cones at the Dairy Bar, and I guessed correctly that the Tavern was modeled on the Wilno Tavern.  I smiled at mentions of Kamaniskeg Lake and the description of Stedmans:  “It was half general store, half dollar store, and it had a little bit of everything, but there was no guarantee they’d have what you were looking for.”  I chuckled at the comment “who wears dress pants and a matching silk top on a Thursday night in Barry’s Bay?  Or any night in Barry’s Bay?”  I could relate to Sam’s feelings of claustrophobia living in a small rural town and his desire to get away, just as I understood Percy’s desire to return to a place which seemed idyllic.  Thank you, Carley Fortune, for the trip down memory lane.

Though, as I indicated at the beginning, romance is not my genre of choice, I will recommend the book as an easy summer read.  Anyone who has spent time at a lakeside cottage or cabin in a small town will identify with the activities described.  Most people will remember the magic of a summer romance or the angst of first love.  Pick this one for reading on a dock or beach or in a comfortable chair in the backyard or on a deck.

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

Review of THE ISLAND by Adrian McKinty (New Release)

 2.5 Stars

I keep reading thrillers in the hopes of finding one that doesn’t require me to totally suspend disbelief.  Unfortunately, this Australian Deliverance isn’t it. 

Twenty-four-year-old Heather recently married a widower twenty years her senior.  When Tom Baxter, a doctor, attends a medical conference in Australia, he brings along Heather and his two children, Olivia and Owen, 14 and 12 respectively.  One day, in hopes of seeing some Australian wildlife, they take a ferry to Dutch Island, a private island where visitors are not welcome.  Once on the island, there’s an accident which causes them to come into conflict with the O’Neill family which owns the island.  Separated from Tom, Heather has to save herself and her step-children. 

Heather’s intelligence is dismissed by both Tom and her step-children.  Tom, for instance, thinks, “Why had he listened to Heather?  She was a Millennial.  She didn’t know anything” and believes “she had that young person’s thing of saying everything that came into her head.”  Olivia thinks, “Heather was easily impressed.  She wasn’t very smart.  She hadn’t even graduated high school.”  Of course, she proves herself to be resourceful and to have considerable knowledge of bushcraft because of her non-traditional upbringing.  In terms of strength and stamina, she becomes a female Rambo; she is pushed to the limits of human endurance and suffers several injuries but perseveres nonetheless.  Her ability to recover quickly from physical trauma is almost superhuman.  As expected, Olivia and Owen realize they underestimated their stepmother and come to trust her. 

I have difficulty believing that two adults would take children to an island with two strange men they have just met.  One of those men is described as “menacing” and possessing a “wolfish grin” whereas the other is very reluctant to allow them on the island which has no cellphone or internet service.  Then after the accident, Heather and Tom make another stupid decision.  I understand that an inciting incident is needed to bring characters into conflict, but I’d much prefer something more believable.

The plot has several problems.  Much of it is repetitive because there’s a lot of running and hiding.  Because of Heather’s amazing survival skills and cunning, she is able to escape all attempts by the O’Neills who would supposedly know the island much better than she does?  The plot requires too much suspension of disbelief:  the reader is expected to simply go along for the ride and overlook over-the-top implausibilities.  And the author doesn’t play fair.  A chapter from one character’s viewpoint ends with the line, “And then there was no ‘he’ to feel anything at all.”  The fate of that character, even with the foreshadowing in the middle chapter, means the reader is tricked.  Relying on such deception is not acceptable.  On the other hand, much of the plot is predictable; certainly Hans and Petra can easily be identified as redshirt characters as soon as they join the Baxter family on the trip to Dutch Island.  And the ending is so predictable:  by Chapter 35, it is obvious what is going to happen.   

Some of the dialogue is bizarre.  Jenny, the conference rep, takes the family to a house for their stay in Melbourne and as she enters that house, she says, “’Anyone need the toilet?  Fab toilets in here.  Heather?  Looks like you gambled a little on a fart and lost, no?’”  An Australian would reference the Alamo, an American historical event?  Heather tells Olivia and Owen to watch out for a police car on the island? 

This action-packed thriller will appeal to some readers, especially if they enjoy graphic violence.  The Rambo-like heroine, the totally evil stereotypical villains, and the far-fetched plot made it difficult for me to enjoy the book.  Does escapist literature have to require the reader to suspend all analytical thought?

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

Review of THE MEMORY KEEPER OF KYIV by Erin Litteken (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

I recently read Red Famine:  Stalin’s War on Ukraine by Anna Applebaum (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/03/review-of-red-famine-stalins-war-on.html), a book which Erin Litteken recommends in her Author’s Note at the end of The Memory Keeper of Kyiv.  As I read Litteken’s novel, I felt like she had taken note of all the tragedies Ukrainians experienced during the famine (as described by Applebaum) and had all these tragedies happen to the novel’s Shevchenko family or people close to them. 

The novel has two storylines which are narrated in alternating chapters.  In September 1929 in Ukraine, 16-year-old Katya is living happily with her family (Tato, Mama and sister Alina) and falling in love with Pavlo, a neighbour.  Then Stalin’s activists arrive to persuade villagers of the advantages of collectivization.  From then until July 1934, various of Katya’s relatives are arrested and deported or executed or starved.  In 2004 Illinois, 31-year-old Cassie is grieving the death of her husband.  Anna, Cassie’s mother, convinces Cassie and her 5-year-old daughter Birdie to move in with Bobby, Cassie’s 92-year-old grandmother, to help care for her.  Bobby gives Cassie a journal she kept when she was a young girl; because it is written in Ukrainian, Cassie enlists the help of Nick Koval, a handsome neighbour, to translate it with her.  Cassie learns about her grandmother’s experiences during the Holodomor. 

Katya’s sections are compelling.  They are not an easy read because people suffered in unimaginable ways.  If I had not read the non-fiction book Red Famine, I might have thought that some of the events described in the novel are exaggerated and unbelievable. 

Cassie’s chapters are much less engrossing.  She is in mourning, but compared to Katya and what she endures, Cassie seems so whiny and full of self-pity.  Her story has so many characteristics of a Hallmark movie:  a dead spouse, a single mom, a perfectly behaving child, and a handsome, single neighbour.  Cassie’s chapters do provide a break from Katya’s heart-breaking story, but after a while, I just became impatient. 

Part of the problem is that Cassie is irritating because she is so clueless.  She studied history in university and mentions trying “for years to interview Bobby for different research papers”; however, when her grandmother didn’t co-operate, she never bothered to research life in Ukraine during the time her grandmother would have lived there?  Cassie doesn’t know that Katya is Bobby?!  Cassie never heard the Christian name of her grandfather?  (And Anna didn’t know her father’s Christian name?!)  When Cassie is given Bobby’s journal, she doesn’t seem so anxious to learn what is in it. 

There are a number of issues that bothered me.  Cassie’s narrative really slows down the novel’s pace.  Then, because readers learn Katya’s story before Cassie does, there is needless repetition when she catches up.  The present timeline is very predictable; from the moment Nick is introduced, the narrative arc is obvious.  Another problem is that secondary characters appear and then disappear; they’re used only to advance the plot and are then dismissed.  Olha’s wedding opens Katya’s story, but her fate is never mentioned.  Vasyl appears, disappears, and then reappears at a convenient time.  Prokyp is another such plot device.  Is the sentimental Epilogue really needed?  Finally, how many naps do Birdie and Bobby take?  To remove them from events, the author has then constantly taking naps.

The theme is clearly stated:  “’people can move on from loss.  You can still have a life, even when you think there’s nothing left, because there is always something to live for.’”  This is the lesson Bobby learned and the lesson she tries to teach her granddaughter. 

Despite its literary weaknesses, this is an important novel because it shows the horrors of the Holodomor in a more emotionally compelling way than non-fiction might.  It also provides a perspective on the relationship between Russia and Ukraine, and may give one reason why Ukrainians are fighting so bravely and so determinedly against the Russian invasion. 

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

Review of THE COLOR OF OUR SKY by Amita Trasi

 3 Stars

This novel is a female version of The Kite Runner set in India; it focuses on the friendship between two girls, Mukta and Tara.  Mukta is the Hassan character and Tara is Amir in Khaled Hosseini’s novel.

Born to a temple prostitute, Mukta is intended to follow her mother’s profession, but she is rescued and moves into an upper-class household with a daughter Tara who is two years younger than Mukta.  The two girls develop a strong bond over five years.  Then, when Mukta is fifteen, she is kidnapped and Tara moves to the U.S. with her father.  Eleven years later, Tara returns to India determined to find her childhood friend.

Chapters alternate between the two girls.  Mukta narrates the past, beginning in 1986 when she is living with her mother and grandmother in a village which adheres to the Devadasi tradition, which “dedicates” girls to a life of sex work in the name of religion.  Tara narrates the present, beginning in 2004 when she comes to India to begin her search.  Eventually the two plotlines converge. 

The plot is fairly predictable.  What is intended to be a twist is not really one because Mukta’s description of past events clearly foreshadows the revelation, especially when coupled with Tara’s description of her father’s actions.  I was also not surprised by the romance element or the rather melodramatic ending. 

Tara is not a character with whom I could connect.  She comes across as self-centred; her search for Mukta is not so much motivated by love as by guilt and a need for redemption.  The constant repetition of her feelings of guilt becomes tiresome, especially when it is obvious almost from the beginning that she is not responsible for Mukta’s fate.  Tara certainly does not seem deserving of Mukta’s trust and loyalty. 

Mukta is the one who possesses all the positive traits.  She is humble and kind and unfailingly loyal.  Obviously, her tendency to almost deify Tara stems from Mukta’s low self-esteem.  Despite Tara’s mistreatment of her, Mukta focuses on Tara as her saviour.  Considering all that Mukta experiences, she forgives easily and always remains optimistic.  In fact, she becomes almost unbelievable in her goodness. 

Another issue with characterization is that secondary characters are often just dropped from the narrative with no explanation.  Once they have served their purpose, they are simply dismissed.  For instance, Madam shows herself to be very determined to keep her property, but we are supposed to believe that she will not pursue Mukta or Asha?  A grandmother appears for a chapter and then, for all intents and purposes, disappears?

I learned a lot more about India’s caste system, especially the Devadasi tradition.  I was inspired to do further research and discovered the impact of British rule:  traditionally Devadasis were celibate but the loss of their means of support and patronage when kings, the patrons of temples, lost their power forced them to become temple prostitutes.  Colonialism has been such a scourge for so many!

This was an audiobook for me, and I must admit it was an enjoyable companion on morning walks.  I was sufficiently interested to keep listening, though it is predictable and not without its flaws.  Definitely, on the escapist/interpretive spectrum, it is much closer to escapist literature.

Review of THE BOOK WOMAN'S DAUGHTER by Kim Michele Richardson (New Release)

 2.5 Stars

This is a sequel to The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek.  Like most sequels, it is a disappointment.

When the parents of sixteen-year-old Honey Lovett are imprisoned for breaking miscegenation laws, Honey’s future is in jeopardy.  Wanting to avoid going to an orphans’ home or being sent to the House of Reform, she needs a guardian.  When that arrangement is not an option, she decides to seek emancipation which would leave her free and independent.  To show she is capable of caring for herself, she follows her mother’s footsteps and becomes an outreach librarian, a job which brings her into contact with new friends and enemies. 

The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek reveals so much about the Blue People of Kentucky, the Kentucky Pack Horse Library Project, and life in Appalachian Kentucky.  The Book Woman’s Daughter, however, offers few new historical elements; it merely recycles information already known to readers of the first book.

The one addition is female characters in male-dominated jobs:  Pearl is a fire tower ranger and Bonnie is a coal miner.  Unfortunately, these characters end up seeming like mere plot devices to emphasize the struggles of women living in a world dominated by men.  The book’s message is that “’Laws about females never make a lick of sense because they’re made and run by men and meant to keep us in bondage’” so women must be courageous to stand up against injustice and inequality.

There were several elements that irritated me.  First there’s the repetition:  How many times must we be told that Junia is stubborn and doesn’t like men?  How many threatening encounters must Honey have with Perry Gillis once he is clearly identified as her enemy?  Then there are the plot holes:  The office of Honey’s lawyer is open after 6 p.m. on a Sunday?  Honey writes down “the directions for the nurse to find Retta’s home” but doesn’t leave the note and has to return later?  Why would the doctor’s wife rely on Honey for books since there is a public library in town?  What’s with the pre-occupation with clean clothes:  Before spending a night with Doc and his wife, Honey goes home to “’pack clean clothes’” and then tells Doc that she “’packed my clean dress’” but then finds that Doc’s wife laundered and folded her clothes overnight?

Finally, there’s the portrayal of Honey.  The author wants her to be a brave heroine so she has Honey save a child.  The author wants her to be intelligent so Honey, not her lawyer, first mentions emancipation.  But then she is so stupid that she doesn’t tie up Junia, a mule who tends to run away?  And after overhearing a conversation which clearly indicates the speakers’ intentions, she wonders “what Gillis and his kin were up to”?  Honey’s father gives her a clear answer about dating, but she says, “’I haven’t received permission yet.  I might need to call Papa again’’?!  She will disobey Gillis and give his wife an “immoral” book, thereby endangering herself and Guyla Belle, but won’t date without permission?  What is particularly annoying is that Honey, though she claims she loves books, seldom reads! 

Having really liked The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek, I looked forward to The Book Woman’s Daughter.  However, I found little to enjoy.  The narrative arc is obvious from the beginning; the protagonist behaves inconsistently though we are to admire her; and scenes have unnecessary melodramatic flourishes.  The first book offers substantial historical information but, other than brief references to Moonlight Schools, Hallie Daggett and female fire lookouts, and the Frontier Nursing Service, the second book tediously repeats historical facts from the first.  I think readers might enjoy The Book Woman’s Daughter more if they’ve not read The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek.

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

Review of ALL THE LOVERS IN THE NIGHT by Mieko Kawakami (New Release)

3 Stars

Though I’m not a reader who needs a plot-driven story, this novel’s slow pace left my mind numbed. 

Fuyuko Irie, 34, is a freelance proofreader in Tokyo.  She describes the entirety of her life in a few words:  “I live alone.  I’ve been living in the same apartment forever.  . . . I like to go out on a walk once a year on my birthday . . . I have no friends to talk to on a regular basis.”  Her life revolves around her work.  Seeing her reflection one day, she sees “the dictionary definition of a miserable person.”  The person with whom she has the most contact is Hijiri Ishikawa, an editor whose personality and lifestyle are totally different.  Desperately lonely, Fuyuko starts to drink to ease her discomfort in the outside world.  During this time, she meets Mitsutsuka, a physics teacher who is 24 years her senior, with whom she establishes a friendship. 

The glacial pace is the result of monologues.  There are the lengthy monologues delivered by secondary characters.  Hijiri, for example, goes on and on, speaking virtually non-stop because Fuyuko says little.  When Fuyuko meets Noriko, a former classmate, and Kyoko, a former colleague, it is these women who dominate the conversations with seemingly endless discussion of topics that interest them.  Exchanges with Mitsutsuka are vague philosophical discussions or focus on the physics of light and colour.  And then Fuyuko’s internal monologues analyzing her thoughts and emotions become repetitive and tedious.  More than once I found my eyes glazing over. 

The book is a character study of its protagonist.  We learn that Fuyuko was always an introvert who was socially awkward, but a traumatic event leaves her fragile self-esteem in tatters.  She becomes totally passive, eventually admitting that “I’d done nothing with my life, glossing over it all.  I was so scared of being hurt that I’d done nothing.  I was so scared of failing, of being hurt, that I chose nothing.  I did nothing.”  I appreciated that she is a dynamic character who learns that “’we can forget pretty much anything’” and a pain can exist in memory “growing weaker by the day” so it can eventually be lost entirely. 

Because of its themes of isolation and loneliness, this novel reminded me of Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman.  Eleanor's transformational journey towards a fuller understanding of self and life is more compelling. 

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

Review of GOING TO BEAUTIFUL by Anthony Bidulka (New Release)

 4 Stars

This is my first time reading an Anthony Bidulka book, though a couple of friends have raved about his Russell Quant series.  Having been impressed with Going to Beautiful, I think I’ll be checking out his other offerings. 

Jake Hardy, a celebrity chef, is left reeling after the sudden death of his husband of thirty years, Eddie Kravets.  After a difficult year, Jake finds himself travelling to Beautiful, Saskatchewan, where it seems that Eddie was born.  Accompanied by his friend and neighbour Baz, “a transgender bon vivant socialite,” Jake sets out to find Eddie’s family and to learn why Eddie never spoke of his family or hometown.   Beautiful turns out to be a small town near Saskatoon with close-knit residents mostly of Ukrainian descent.  From these residents, Jake learns about Eddie’s family but he also discovers dark secrets kept hidden for decades. 

From the beginning I was charmed by Jake, the narrator.  His voice and sense of humour are so appealing.  He is suffering with the flu but describes himself as being “felled by the plague, the severity of which had heretofore been unknown to mankind.”  To elicit sympathy and extort some mint chocolate ice cream, he leaves an “impressive pile of decongestants (oral and nasal), antihistamines, analgesics, antipyretics, cough suppressants, and expectorants” for Eddie to see.  Awakened by a doorbell, he rages, “How dare Eddie allow someone to use the doorbell when I was on my deathbed?  I cursed the ruckus and made a mental note to begin divorce proceedings as soon as I was better.”  Jake is immediately relatable:  if the reader is not like Jake, he/she will know someone like him. 

Jake is not the only delightful character.  Baz (Sebastienne Venkata Santhosh Kumar Sengupta) is a woman I’d love to meet.  Not only is she the type of loyal and trustworthy friend everyone needs, but her idiosyncrasies endear her to the reader.  How wonderful it is that the protagonist (55 years old) and his sidekick (78 years of age) are older people.  The various inhabitants of Beautiful are unique and well-developed so the reader knows what to expect whenever one reappears.  Gwen, for instance, will be having a drink and her conversation will be smattered with off-colour jokes and profanities.

Bidulka perfectly captures small-town life.  Having grown up in a small town, I know how well everyone knows everyone, how quickly news and gossip spread, and how townspeople will come together to lend a helping hand.  I couldn’t help but get nostalgic when I read about the three types of cookies Jake is served during a visit to a farm.  And I’m craving some chokecherry jam!

The author’s love of the prairies resonates in his descriptions, and his pride in his Ukrainian heritage is palpable.  I grew up in a town where most people were of Kashubian descent so my first language was Kashubian.   Bidulka includes snippets of Ukrainian in the novel, and I was amazed by how similar Ukrainian and Kashubian are; I easily recognized phrases like Yak cya mahyesh? and Xto tahm? and words like vdoma, sveenya, dobrey, and dyakuyu.

This book has something for almost everyone.  There’s more than one mystery about Eddie, there’s romance (a wonderfully unconventional relationship), and there’s ample humour.  I particularly loved the gentle, subtle humour:  a gathering of men is “like a low-budget, male version of The View”; designer gloves and scarves not intended for cold prairie winters “weren’t worth the tissue paper they’d been nestled in when we bought them”; and a convent on first appearance might be from The Sound of Music or The Rocky Horror Picture Show or the Bates Motel.  A flirtatious farmer elicits a response from Jake:  “Old MacDonald had more than a farm, he had moves.”  And there’s Jake Hardy’s tongue-in-cheek comment:  “I was someone looking for a quiet place to meet with Judah Kravchenko, not one of the Hardy Boys.”

Though my review is overwhelmingly positive, I must point out that the book is not perfect.  I question the inclusion of Sister Genowefa’s story; that subplot seems unnecessary.  What could have been included is a resident who was not so welcoming and open-minded.  “Beauty can disguise a great many ugly things,” but homophobia and transphobia don’t exist in Beautiful?  Though it makes for a satisfying ending, the epilogue does wrap things up very neatly, almost too neatly.  However, I don’t mind if these objections are dismissed as caviling. 

I loved the affirmative messages in the novel:  it applauds people taking time “to celebrate the abundance of life and practice gratitude”; it recommends that one “lead with joy and joy will follow”; and it reminds us that “no matter how dark a soul, no matter how tortured, everyone deserves love.”  The world is not totally devoid of hope and goodness. 

This is a thoroughly enjoyable read.  I highly recommend it.