Review of THE DEARLY BELOVED by Cara Wall

3 Stars

I will begin by stating that I don’t gravitate to books with religious themes.  I read this one because it was chosen by my book club. 

The book is about two ministers and their wives.  Covering 1953 to 1970, the novel shows these four as they grow up, attend college, get married, establish careers, create families, and weather tragedies. 

Charles Barrett, the son of a Harvard professor, falls in love with Lily who has never recovered from the death of her parents and who is a staunch non-believer.  James MacNally, who comes from an impoverished family with an alcoholic parent, falls in love with Nan, a minister’s daughter from an influential and affluent family.  The two men are made co-ministers of the Third Presbyterian Church in Greenwich Village in the 1960s.  Charles sees his mission as guiding and supporting his parishioners while James tries to inspire congregants in the fight for social justice.  Nan becomes the quintessential clergyman’s wife while Lily becomes involved in academia and activism.  Events cause rifts between the couples and bring them together. 

I had difficulty with the foundations of the novel.  Everyone falls in love at first sight?  Would a man of so much faith marry an atheist?  Isn’t religious faith and belief experiential, not an academic pursuit?  Would a man who does not fully believe in God become a minister when his desire to help others and change the world could just as easily be met in another role?  A parish is so wealthy as to be able to support two ministers?  I also had difficulty with the ending.  Annelise arrives to save the day and a man proceeds to fall in love with her the moment he sees her!

The author goes out of her way to build religion into the structure of the novel, but I found it to be less about faith than love.  In a scene near the end, one of the characters realizes that a group of people are his beloved because he loves all of them “more than he would have ever thought possible, loved them not with the automatic love of childhood or the easy love of coincidence, but with the tautly stitched love of people who have faced uncertainty together, who have stuck it out, the strong love of people who looked to their side while suffering and saw the other there.”  God is never mentioned.

I tend to enjoy books with dynamic characters that change and grow.  All four of the major characters do learn from experiences.  For instance, one comes to realize the importance of connection while another learns that doubt can assail anyone.  Unfortunately, I didn’t find that I really cared.  The characters come across as wooden because the author relies more on telling than showing. 

This book just did not speak to me.  Perhaps I lack the type of faith necessary to appreciate its nuances.

Review of THE FORGOTTEN DEAD by Tove Alsterdal

 3.5 Stars

I recently read We Know You Remember by this Swedish author and I quite enjoyed it (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/07/review-of-we-know-you-remember-by-tove.html) so decided to read The Forgotten Dead, a standalone novel she wrote a few years ago.

Patrick Cornwall, a freelance investigative journalist, goes missing while working on a story in Paris.  His wife Ally flies to Europe to find him after she has not heard from him in a while.  She learns that he has been investigating illegal migrants being used for slave labour.  As Ally retraces her husband’s movements, she realizes that he has learned that people at the highest levels of government and society are involved in human trafficking and exploitation and that they will do anything to protect their interests.  Interspersed with Ally’s search for Patrick are sections set in Tarifa, Spain, where a Swedish tourist discovers the body of a black man presumed to be an African migrant. 

What most interested me is the author’s tackling of an important social issue:  “The figure 30 million was an estimate of the number of slaves in the world today . . . compared . . . to the 12 million slaves transported across the Atlantic – and that was over a period of 300 years.”  “There were more slaves in the world than ever, in spite of the fact that all nations had passed laws to ban slave labour.  Actually, the price had never been as low as it was now, just $90 on average.  It was even possible to get a good slave from Mali for only $40. . . . In the 1880s, during the transatlantic slave trade to America, a slave cost $1,000.  In today’s currency, that was equal to $38,000, which meant that now 4,000 slaves could be bought for the price of only one back then.” 

I had some issues with the plot.  Ally discovers the nature of Patrick’s investigation and easily identifies the main villains, though she is a set designer, not a detective or investigative journalist.  Ally’s language comprehension is confusing:  she claims not to understand much French and when she tries to “conjure up some words in French,” she can’t.  But then her knowledge of French “resurfaced like a repressed memory”?  She can speak Spanish but not read it?  I also take exception to the ending which would be more appropriate in an action movie. 

I preferred Alsterdal’s police procedural to this standalone, though the latter has motivated me to research further into the plight of migrants in Europe. 

Review of NIGHT SHADOWS by Eva Björg Ægisdóttir (New Release)

4 Stars

This is the third in the Forbidden Iceland series after The Creak on the Stairs (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2021/08/review-of-creak-on-stairs-by-eva-bjorg.html) and Girls Who Lie (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2021/11/review-of-girls-who-lie-by-eva-bjorg.html). 

After a fire in a house in Akranes, the body of a young man, Marinó Finnsson, is found in his bedroom.  The fire is quickly determined to be the result of arson, and it seems that Marinó was dead before the fire was started.  The investigation, conducted by Elma Jónsdóttir, her partner Sævar, and her boss Hörður of West Iceland CID, focuses on a small group of young people who were friends of Marinó and his twin sister Fríða:  Ísak, Andri, and Sonja.  One case becomes two when police find a phone belonging to Lise Ragnarsdóttir Visser in Marinó’s room.  Lise was from the Netherlands and had served as an au pair for Andri’s younger sisters; she left the family’s employ to return home but seems to have gone missing. 

As with the first two books, there is a subplot involving Elma’s personal life.  She is facing a particular challenge which will have consequences for not just her future.  What I liked is that her private conflict doesn’t receive so much focus as to draw attention away from the police investigations.  Hörður is also experiencing private struggles.  The additional information about the personal lives of the characters serves to create fully rounded individuals whom the reader feels s/he knows and understands well. 

Elma is a very likeable protagonist.  As before, she continues to show her intelligence, determination, and work ethic.  Her personal challenge reveals more of her softer side.  What is also emphasized is that she is not perfect; she has a tendency towards impetuous behaviour:  “a tendency to act spontaneously on her hunches” which can lead her into danger.  In other words, she is a very believable character. 

There is one character whose behaviour I found particularly despicable and disturbing.  As I was reading, I kept thinking that this person had to be responsible for what happened to Marinó and Lise.  Ultimately, the message perhaps is that a person can be morally responsible without being legally guilty.  The reference to this character in the News Flash near the end of the novel left a sour taste.  But all this is a testament to the novel’s complexity. 

On the topic of complexity, I especially appreciated how several threads (e.g. Elma’s life-changing event, Hörður’s loss and gain, Lise’s loss, characters’ motivations) all suggest a central theme.  Like the important clues scattered throughout, these threads contribute to a cohesive whole.   

The pace of the novel could best be described as slow and steady, but with regular revelations and twists so interest never wanes.  The perspective of Elma and the police investigation is given, but so is that of various people connected to the case.  Several of these people have something to hide so there is no shortage of suspects.  Apparently, the British press has dubbed Eva Björg Ægisdóttir the “Icelandic Ruth Rendell” and I think this is a fitting description.

Readers looking for a meticulously plotted police procedural with engaging characters and psychological and thematic depth need look no further.  Though the book can be read as a standalone, I highly recommend reading the books in order.

Review of SWEET BEAN PASTE by Durian Sukegawa

 3.5 Stars

I was looking for something a bit different to read and found glowing reviews of this Japanese novella about an unconventional friendship. 

Sentaro Tsujii feels like a failure.  With a checkered past, he has few opportunities so works in a tiny confectionary shop selling dorayaki, a type of pancake filled with sweet bean paste.  Adrift, he feels his life has no purpose.  One day, a 76-year-old woman, Tokue Yoshii, asks for a job.  Her age, gnarled hands, and partially paralyzed face make him hesitate, but then he learns she makes the best sweet bean paste and so hires her.  A friendship develops, one which changes Sentaro’s outlook on life.

Over time, Sentaro learns about Tokue’s life.  She is reluctant at first to share her story, but eventually the truth is revealed.  To say her past was harrowing would be an understatement.  The author reveals a dark chapter in Japanese history when imprisonment, forced labour, sterilization and arbitrary punishment were the fate of those affected with Hansen’s disease.  Though cured 40 years ago, Tokue still faces prejudice and ostracism. 

The message of the book is that no existence is devoid of meaning. Tokue stresses that a person's worth lies not in their career or in their contributions to society, but simply in their being:  “we were born in order to see and listen to the world.  And that’s all this world wants of us.”  A person’s life has meaning if he/she has simply observed or sensed the sky and wind.  Tokue also emphasizes that joy can be found if people learn from nature and enjoy the wonder of life moment by moment, regardless of how restricted their circumstances. 

This is not an action-packed book.  What plot exists is predictable.  Instead, the novel is gentle and meditative, both bittersweet and heart-warming.  Parts are very sad, but in the end, it is uplifting  and inspiring with its life-affirming message.  Sweet Bean, a 2015 film based on this book, has been credited with helping Japanese society become fully aware of the existence of its outcasts.

Review of WE WERE THE SALT OF THE SEA by Roxanne Bouchard

3 Stars

I’m always interested in reading Canadian authors so when I came across Roxanne Bouchard’s name, I decided to read this, the first of her Detective Moralès series. 

Most of the action is set in 2007 in a small fishing community on the Gaspé Peninsula.  Catherine Day arrives there looking for her mother Marie Garant, though she doesn’t share this with the inhabitants who befriend her.  Then Marie’s body is found in a fishing net.  DS Joaquin Moralès, who has just been transferred to the area, is put in charge of the case.  His initial investigation is rather perfunctory because he is distracted by events in his personal life and because the locals are not forthcoming with information.

This is not an action-packed book.  Considerable time is spent on developing the rather quirky characters who live in the village.  Having grown up in a small town, I can attest that the environment of a small town is conveyed realistically:  everyone knows everyone and everyone’s business, including relationships and family histories.  There is no difficulty in differentiating amongst the town’s residents since virtually all have a unique manner of speech:  Father Leblanc begins most sentences with “In truth”; Renaud keeps repeating “let me tell you”; Vital swears “Christ in a chalice” every time he appears; Victor stutters; and the coroner always uses the conditional “ought to.”  Because Cyrille wheezes, his dialogue is always interspersed with “heee.”  Unfortunately, these verbal tics become tiresome after a while.  Does “heee” have to be repeated over 250 times? 

The series is named after Detective Moralès, but in many ways he doesn’t seem to be as integral a character as is usually the case in detective fiction.  He also doesn’t seem to possess the traits of an experienced police officer.  And then his mid-life crisis takes precedence over his investigation.  The focus is more on his journey of self-discovery. 

Of course Catherine is also on a journey of self-discovery.  She feels purposeless, that life is passing her by, and she doesn’t know what to do with her future.  The author goes to great pains to suggest that Catherine is like her mother, a beautiful siren who leaves men pining for her.  This didn’t work for me.  Marie is a mysterious figure who behaved unpredictably and aroused strong emotions, whether love or jealousy, in others.  What the fishermen tell about her is enough to portray a vivid personality.  Her daughter, however, just seems bland.  Next to the colourful residents of the community, she is especially colourless. 

The plot is also atypical in that there are few red herrings and surprise twists and turns.  Though I didn’t know the full story, I guessed the identity of the guilty party almost immediately.  Since Moralès is a newcomer, people’s reluctance to share information is perhaps understandable, but would they really obstruct a possible murder investigation?  And one person keeps quiet about the identity of a murderer even though he has more than one reason to speak up? 

There are italicized sections which seem to be Marie’s thoughts inserted throughout the narrative.  But these seem random and largely unnecessary.  They are also confusing because there are other instances where her thoughts are given without italics:  “I lean overboard.  In the broken mirror of the water’s surface, I am splinters of stained glass, a tarnished mosaic, a dysfunctional memory out of sync, a jumbled assortment of images pieced together by a watery goldsmith.” 

The author uses very lyrical language when describing the sea:  “Today, the swell rolls like a watery carpet, lapping against the hull of the sailboat, flickering in the slivers cast by the rising sun.  The wind fills the sails as the horizon glows red, dawn washing the sea with colour and transforming this story into a scarlet fresco.  The sky turns blue, with just enough of a hint of pink to pave the way for the sun.”   It is obvious that Bouchard knows the sea intimately and loves it. 

There are humourous touches, but some become annoying.  Renaud’s attacks on vegetables and his constant putting on and taking off of his cook’s helper apron just become tedious.  The encounter between Renaud and Father Leblanc and Moralès at Guylaine’s is a bit too slapsticky. 

As I mentioned, this is the first of the series; the second one is The Coral Bride and a third, Whisper of the Seals, will be released in August.  I can’t say I was awed by this book, but I’ll probably read another just to give the author a fair chance. 

Review of THE ISLAND OF MISSING TREES by Elif Shafak

 4 Stars

This book, part of which is narrated by a fig tree, is a delightful, enriching read.

Ada Kazantzakis, a teenager living in London around 2016, is grieving the death of her mother.  She has no connection to her parents’ homeland of Cyprus except for a transplanted fig tree which grows in the garden.  The unexpected arrival of a visitor from that island helps Ada untangle the secrets of her family’s troubled history about which she knows little.  She learns about the forbidden love between her parents, Kostas - a Greek Christian Cypriot and Defne - a Turkish Muslim Cypriot, and the ethnic, religious and political unrest that engulfed Cyprus in the mid-1970s.

Almost half the novel is narrated in first person by a fig tree.  Initially, I was skeptical about the use of an arboreal narrator, but I came to enjoy many of those chapters  -  though I was irked by some sections where an ant or a mosquito serve as too convenient sources of information for the tree.  Certainly, the tree has personality traits; she is chatty (a bit of a gossip), opinionated (commenting on a wide variety of topics), and proud (arguing that fig trees are much better than carob trees).  She possesses a sense of humour (insisting that Adam and Eve yielded to the allure of a luscious fig not a plain old crunchy apple), but can also be didactic (“the climbing wood vine Boquila trifoliolata can alter its leaves to mimic the shape or colour of those of its supporting plant”) and moralistic (“Even trees of different species show solidarity with one another regardless of their differences, which is more than you can say for so many humans”).  She certainly teaches a lot about trees and other flora.  After reading that “the smell of a freshly mown lawn, that scent humans associate with cleanliness and restoration and all things new and zestful, is in fact another distress signal issued by grass to warn other flora and ask for help,” I will feel guilty whenever I mow grass.  She also instructs about fauna like birds, bats, ants, butterflies, honeybees, and mice.  Certainly, the surprise twist at the end inspired me to set aside any prejudice against talking trees. 

I loved the fig tree’s more philosophical, meditative moments:  “Humans care more about the fate of animals they consider cute” and “that is what migrations and relocations do to us:  when you leave your home for unknown shores, you don’t simply carry on as before; a part of you dies inside so that another part can start all over again” and “I think of fanaticism – of any type – as a viral disease.  Creeping in menacingly, ticking like a pendulum clock that never winds down, it takes hold of you faster when you are part of an enclosed, homogenous unit” and “Truth is a rhizome – an underground plant stem with lateral shoots.  You need to dig deep to reach it and, once unearthed, you have to treat it with respect.”

The novel is a commentary on the effects of war:  loss, displacement, and migration.  Defne never fully recovered from the violence of her native country.  Sometimes the effects are multi-generational.  Defne and Kostas agreed not to burden Ada with knowledge of their past, but the lack of extended family concerns her as does her parents’ silence about their pasts.  She believes that “she carried within a sadness that was not quite her own.”  The fig tree emphasizes that war also has effects on the natural world:  “But on an island plagued by years of ethnic violence and brutal atrocities, humans were not the only ones that suffered.  So did we trees – and animals, too, experienced hardship and pain as their habitats came to disappear.”  The message is that “wherever there is war and a painful partition, there will be no winners, humans or otherwise.”

The vivid descriptions of Cyprus’s landscape left me wanting to visit.  Though the island may not be what it once was.  When Kostas visits after 25 years, he finds it is not “the verdant paradise he remembered.  Cyprus was known in antiquity as ‘the green island’, famous for its dense, mysterious forests.  The absence of trees was a powerful rebuke to the dreadful mistakes of the past.”

I highly recommend this novel.  Written in elegant prose, it is both emotionally arousing and thought-provoking.  It reminds us that we cannot ever fully escape the past (“’you break free and travel as far as you can, then one day you  look back and realize it was coming with you all along, like a shadow’”) and that we can learn a great deal from the natural world  in which “everything is interconnected.”

Review of HORSE by Geraldine Brooks

 4 Stars

I hesitated to read this book because it is about horseracing, a sport in which I have little interest.  But since I’ve enjoyed other novels by Geraldine Brooks, I decided to read Horse.  Once again I was impressed with the author’s polished storytelling.  (And the novel is about much more than horseracing.)

Two Black men are the central characters in this novel.  In 1850, thirteen-year-old Jarret, an enslaved black boy in Kentucky, is present at the birth of a foal.  That colt becomes Lexington, “the greatest racing stallion in American turf history” and “the greatest thoroughbred stud sire in racing history.”  Though both Jarret and Lexington are sold more than once, they have a deep rapport and Jarret remains part of Lexington’s life until the horse’s death in 1875. 

The second Black protagonist is Theo Northam.  In 2019, he is a doctoral student in art history in Washington D.C. when he rescues a discarded painting of a racehorse.  By chance, he meets Jess, an osteologist at the Smithsonian who has found Lexington’s skeleton in an attic of the Smithsonian.   As the two research the provenance of the painting, the reader is given the point of view of Thomas J. Scott, an itinerant equine artist who paints several portraits of Lexington, and Martha Jackson, an art dealer in 1950s New York who comes into possession of one of those portraits. 

The narrative pace is leisurely at first as the reader is introduced to the various characters.  Then suspense is gradually built.  In the sections set in the past, Jarret’s welfare is often at risk since he can be bought and sold and separated from Lexington at any time.  There are some cliffhanger endings; for instance, one chapter ends with “Something had happened to this horse when it was alive.  Something dreadful.”  And there is certainly tension in the races in which Lexington competes. 

The book examines antebellum horseracing which was the sport of white privilege relying on the exploited labour of Black horsemen.  The inclusion of Theo’s story, however, emphasizes that racism persists into the present.  Though Jarret and Theo are separated by 170 years and come from entirely different social and economic classes, they both endure racism.  Though the son of a man who had purchased his own freedom, Jarret is considered property and treated as such:  “Obedience and docility:  valued in a horse, valued in an enslaved human.  Both should move only at the command of their owner.  Loyalty, muscle, willingness – qualities for a horse, qualities for the enslaved.”  Just as Lexington is exploited for maximum financial gain, Jarret is exploited for his skill with horses.  Theo, the son of diplomats and a student at an elite British boarding school, becomes a star polo player but leaves the team because of the racism he encounters.  In Washington, his attempt to help a white neighbour is met with “the usual gust of anger.” 

The point is that racism has not been eradicated.  Enslaved men like Jarret were regarded as inherently dangerous and were murdered without consequence.  Mary Barr Clay, the granddaughter of one of Jarret’s owners, visits Jarret and he is immediately anxious to have her leave, telling her “’they gonna skin me standing if anybody come by and find you here.’”  Likewise, Theo’s neighbour seems afraid of him and sees him as a threat.  When he goes running, he wears “branded, elite-university apparel” because “his favorite run took him through lily-white Northwest Washington and Daniel, his best friend at Yale, had instructed him that a Black man, running, should dress defensively.” 

There are some elements that had me puzzled.  The Martha Jackson section detailing her connection to Jackson Pollock seems superfluous.  Though multiple perspectives are given, third person narration is used for all characters, except the artist, Thomas Scott.  Why is he given his own voice?  There are several coincidences that detract:  Theo’s PhD thesis is about “’elements of nineteenth-century American equestrian art.’”  He finds a painting of a horse and shortly afterwards meets Jess who has found a horse’s skeleton -  and both are of Lexington.  I was also irked by the melodramatic plot twist at the end, the once concerning the special request made by a painting’s seller.   

This book may cause some controversy; doubtless, some will accuse the author of cultural appropriation:  what is a white woman doing writing from the perspectives of an enslaved man and a bi-racial man?  Interestingly, she does acknowledge Frederick Douglass’s argument that Whites cannot accurately depict Blacks because Whites cannot see “past their own ingrained stereotypes of Blackness.”  Perhaps to avoid any accusations of stereotyping, Brooks has her Black characters, especially Theo, Jarret, and Jarret’s father, be handsome men with few negative traits; they are intelligent and always behave better than the white characters.  I couldn’t help but notice that they also have close connections with animals.  Certainly, Brooks shows empathy for her Black characters.  On the other hand, white characters like Jess and Mary are often clueless.  Tess, for instance, when she first sees Theo, thinks he is stealing her bicycle, though she later describes feeling traumatized by her appalling behaviour:  “Typical, Theo thought.  He’d been accused, yet she was traumatized.”  Scott says he doesn’t “’hold with slavery’” but Jarret thinks, “Might not hold with it, . . . But don’t mind holding the cash that comes from it.” 

It is Scott who makes a comment that is undoubtedly supposed to remind the reader of the current political atmosphere in the U.S.  Initially he is sympathetic towards Confederate prisoners he encounters, thinking of them as pawns, and talks with them “to better know their minds.”  Eventually he gives up because, “They were, all of them, lost to a narrative untethered to anything he recognized as true.  Their mad conception of Mr. Lincoln as some kind of cloven-hoofed devil’s scion, their complete disregard – denial – of the humanity of the enslaved, their fabulous notions of what evils the Federal government intended for them should their cause fall – all of it was ingrained so deep, beyond the reach of reasonable dialogue or evidence.”

I appreciate a book which introduces me to new vocabulary:  jussive, subfusc, egisted, eisteddfod, and bruit. 

Reading this book is an emotional journey; anger and sadness are felt in equal measure.  Its examination of racism might mean it will soon appear on lists of banned/challenged books in the U.S., but I highly recommend it. 

Review of WE KNOW YOU REMEMBER by Tove Alsterdal

4 Stars

I picked up this novel because it was chosen as the 2020 Swedish Crime Novel of the Year and won the 2021 Glass Key Award for Best Nordic Crime Novel.  Tove Alsterdal will definitely be added to my list of Scandinavian crime writers to follow. 

The novel is set in rural northern Sweden.  When Olof Hagström yields to an impulse and visits his childhood home after more than two decades, he finds his father Sven brutally murdered.  Olof becomes a suspect because 23 years earlier, when he was 14, he confessed to raping and murdering a local girl, Lina Stavred, though her body was never found.  As Detective Eira Sjödin investigates Sven’s death, other crimes are uncovered and suspicion even falls on a member of Eira’s family. 

The plot is complex with several layers.  One case is solved but another body is discovered so another investigation is launched.  There are also two cases from the past which come into play.  The ending, though not totally tidy, is logical.  Certainly there are clues throughout so the author does not cheat the reader by withholding information.  We piece together the solution just as Eira does. 

Eira is a very likeable and relatable protagonist.  She has positive qualities like determination.  And her decision to return to her hometown to care for her mother, who is suffering from dementia, is admirable.  She is, however, not perfect:  her choices concerning men are certainly flawed.  Her brother Magnus thinks that she interferes unnecessarily in people’s lives.  Eira’s having grown up in the region complicates her professional life while it also makes her valuable in an investigation:  “Local knowledge.  That was such a superficial phrase . . . It said nothing about the depths of the abyss, or the complications lurking beneath, in which every person was connected to another, memories tricking and deceiving.”

This is the first in the High Coast Series; the second book entitled You Will Never Be Found will be released in January of 2023.  I will definitely be picking it up.  In the meantime, I plan to read The Forgotten Dead, an earlier standalone book which has also been translated into English.

If you enjoy crime fiction that is both entertaining and has depth, check out We Know You Remember.  It’s one of the most satisfying police procedurals I’ve read in a while.