Review of THE HOUSE OF FORTUNE by Jessie Burton (New Release)

 3 Stars

This book is marketed as a standalone companion to The Miniaturist, but readers who have not read the first book will miss a great deal of background needed to understand characters.

This book is set in 1705, eighteen years after the end of The Miniaturist.  Thea Brandt, who lives with her father Otto and her Aunt Nella, turns eighteen.  The family lives in a large house in a prestigious Amsterdam neighbourhood but they have major financial concerns.  Nella decides that it is time for Thea to marry and sets out to arrange a high status, lucrative marriage, though finding a suitable husband for her illegitimate, mixed-race niece whose family has suffered public shame may be difficult.  In the meantime, Thea is spending time at the theatre enjoying performances and spending time with Walter, a set painter and her secret lover.  She also begins receiving miniature figurines which seem to be the work of the miniaturist, a shadowy figure from Nella’s past who seems to have the ability to see people’s secrets and to steer their future. 

The inclusion of the miniaturist is one reason for this book not really being a standalone.  Her presence means readers who have not read The Miniaturist will be confused.  She is mentioned over and over again, though no additional information is given about her.  A major mystery in the first book is how the miniaturist knows so much about Nella, especially when sometimes the objects she sends seem prophetic?  All that has changed is that Thea is now the recipient of her figurines.  Is a third book being planned?

Thea, who is the age Nella is in The Miniaturist, and Nella are foil characters.  Thea is the romantic.  She wants to find true love and yearns for adventure, escape from her cold, austere home which is full of secrets.  She is willful and self-centred; she thinks she knows everything and her aunt knows nothing.  The irony of her comment to her aunt that “’You were never like me’” can only be fully appreciated by those who have read The Miniaturist.  Even after remembering her age, I found Thea very annoying at the beginning.  Of course, she does gain maturity since experience is a harsh teacher.  I did, however, think that her behaviour does not fit that of a young woman in the early 18^th century.  In her attitude to sex, she behaves like a woman from the 20^th or 21^st centuries.

Nella is the pragmatist.  Her wants stability and security for herself and her family.  Maintaining the veneer of gentility and respectability and being accepted by society are important to her.  In The Miniaturist, Nella, a timid and naïve girl, develops independence, determination, and resourcefulness over the course of the three months of her marriage.  She has lost those traits? Yet though she is very conventional, Nella has a surprisingly open-minded attitude to Thea’s sex life? 

The plot is not complicated; in fact, it is predictable.  Certainly, it is not difficult to guess where everyone will end up at the end.  Some of the foreshadowing is certainly heavy-handed.  When lovers meet surrounded by “fake crumbling castles looming over their heads” in a “room of make-believe,” it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what is going to happen!

There is one plot element that is problematic.  When a marriage is arranged, a dowry is an inevitable part of the arrangement, but Nella never worries about how they will find the money for a dowry, even if the amount requested is paltry?  The pragmatic woman stops thinking sensibly and realistically?  Even Thea comments about the maid spending all of her dowry at the market preparing an elaborate feast for the groom-to-be! 

The message of the book is that “Things can change” and new beginnings are possible.  The ending for all the characters clearly indicates this hopeful message.  Another message is that “The past always comes to meet the present,” a message that is also emphasized at the end.  Again, those who have read The Miniaturist will see more clearly how the ending completes a circle begun when Nella was 18. 

When I read The Miniaturist, I wasn’t particularly impressed and, unfortunately, The House of Fortune also falls short in my estimation.

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

Review of CARRIE SOTO IS BACK by Taylor Jenkins Reid (New Release)

4 Stars 

Though I am not a tennis fan, I really enjoyed this book about a tennis player.

Carrie Soto is a legendary tennis star when she retires after setting a record for Grand Slam titles.  Six years later, her record is broken so, at the age of 37, with her father Javier as her coach, Carrie comes out of retirement to reclaim her record. 

Though there are a lot of tennis matches, this is very much a novel of character.  Carrie emerges as a flawed, complex character who is not always likeable.  She is described as “self-absorbed and wickedly ambitious” and these traits are in abundant evidence.  She is fiercely competitive and goal-oriented, so relentlessly focused on her game that she makes no time to socialize with other players.  Aside from her father and her agent, she really has no friends, so she is seen as cold and standoffish.  It is not surprising that she earns the nickname The Battle Axe.  She is brusque to the point of rudeness; when one player comments that “’The Battle Axe doesn’t talk to us . . . We are beneath her,’” Carrie replies, “’I am ranked number two.  And you are ranked- what?  Maybe thirty?  So in this case, yes, you are beneath me.’”  One person tells her, “’every sentence that comes out of your mouth is like a razor blade.’” 

Despite her abrasiveness and obnoxious behaviour, the reader will root for Carrie.  It is impossible not to admire her drive and determination.  Having been groomed almost from birth to be a tennis star, she sacrifices so much to achieve her goals.  She is lonely but after a relationship ends badly, she decides, “Whatever soft parts of my heart I had tentatively exposed . . . it had been a mistake.  I would never again be that type of fool.”  Even her brutal honesty is refreshing.  For instance, when a male player diminishes her tournament win because men play five sets whereas women play three, Carrie verbally attacks:  “’if I played you two out of three or three out of five, I would drag you across the court and murder your -.’”  And she must accept constant criticism from the media and the public who are quick to judge:  “When I decided to play professional tennis, I apparently signed a contract to let people talk shit about me for the rest of my life.”

Sexism in sport is one of the issues examined.  Carrie lacks charm so the media turns on her.  She describes how sports commentators want her to behave:  “It was okay to win as long as I acted surprised when I did and attributed it to luck.  I should never let on how much I wanted to win or, worse, that I believed I deserved to win.  And I should never, under any circumstances, admit that I did not believe all of my opponents were just as worthy as I was.  . . . they wanted a woman whose eyes would tear up with gratitude, as if she owed them her victory as if she owed them everything she had.”  Her self-assured attitude earns her nicknames like The Battle Axe and worse, whereas male players who show confidence are lauded; even her father is nicknamed The Jaguar.  As a woman tennis player, she is expected to be beautiful and graceful as well as competent.  Another female player comments “’because you like to hit a ball around a court . . . it’s okay for people to call you ‘the Beast’ just because you’re strong?  And they can comment on your clothes and hair?’”  I loved Carrie’s reference to living “in a world where exceptional women have to sit around waiting for mediocre men.”

During her comeback, Carrie is very much on a journey of self-discovery.  It is obvious that her childhood experiences and her upbringing, coached by her single father, have shaped her personality.  She has focused on her career and, she agrees when a coach says, “’being the very best is antithetical to being happy.’”  She is so pre-occupied with winning that she ceases to enjoy playing and loses the joy of success:  “When did winning become something I needed in order to survive?  Something I did not enjoy having, so much as panic without?"  When she announces her comeback, Carrie’s agent questions whether it is honour or ego that is driving her.  Bowe Huntley, a player who becomes increasingly important in her life, tells Carrie, “’you came back to win, not to play.’”  Her father and others try to show her that greatness can be measured in many different ways, that achievements are ephemeral, and that it is possible to “’[feel] secure, even knowing you are not the best.’”  Carrie struggles throughout with making peace with her limitations, with accepting that she can be, as Bowe describes her, perfect despite her imperfections.  She also struggles with making room in her life for others and opening herself to love and happiness. 

Initially I was concerned that the focus on tennis and my lack of knowledge of the sport would impede my enjoyment, but that proved not to be the case.  All that the reader needs to know is clearly summarized near the beginning.  The games are described in such a way that I became fully invested in the outcome.  Will Carrie be able to defeat her younger, faster opponents?  The suspense had me turning pages quickly.

What did bother me is the Spanish dialogue.  Carrie and her father often speak in Spanish and there is not always a clear indication of what they’re saying.  I was able to decipher some of their conversations but found myself frustrated when I couldn’t. 

Despite my initial misgivings, I found this book an entertaining, even compelling, read.  The ending, though very satisfying, had me wishing for more. 

Note:  I received a digital galley from the publisher via NetGalley so the quotations in my review may not be exactly as they will appear in the final copy. 

Review of SHARP EDGES by Leah Mol (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This book focuses on the difficulty of being a teenaged girl, especially if she has no support or supervision.

Katie, the narrator, is fifteen.  Her father is absent and her mother is a hypochondriac who focuses on herself, so provides her daughter no support or supervision.  When Katie’s friend Lil becomes pre-occupied with a boyfriend, Katie feels totally alone.  She mentions more than once how she feels invisible and wants to be seen.  Typically for her age, she is curious about sex.  She ends up joining an online group where she sells her underwear and takes part in virtual sexual acts.  Just as she explores the dark side of the internet, she increasingly turns to drug usage

The portrayal of a teenaged girl is very accurate.  Katie’s concern about fitting in is typical of most girls her age.  Because she has low self-esteem, she will do anything to be accepted.  Unfortunately, she starts hanging around people who regularly use drugs, so her life soon spirals out of control.  Naturally, she is also curious about sex.  Though she has some sexual experiences in real life, they are largely unsatisfactory because the boys are the ones who are in charge of such encounters:  “I know the sex is good because he always comes, and he always kisses me on the forehead before he pulls out.  He’s never given me an orgasm – I don’t know if he’s tried.”  On the online site, she feels she has control since she can express her desires and can set parameters for what is acceptable to her. 

The reader will certainly feel sympathy for Katie; she talks about “wanting someone to hold [her] and keep [her] from falling apart.”  She thinks she is alone in her feelings, not realizing that she’s “exactly the same as other people . . . [needing] the same things as everyone else.”  Katie’s behaviour takes her down some dark paths which cannot but leave the reader feeling uncomfortable.  I did find that some of her choices were extreme.  Katie herself thinks she is crazy. 

As expected in a coming-of-age novel, Katie does eventually experience growth.  Unfortunately, her change comes quickly at the end.  One conversation changes everything?  There is a comment about everything not being okay immediately, but since the novel concludes a page later, the ending seems abrupt. 

To be honest, I found the novel a tedious read.  Katie goes from one party to another and from one online encounter to another.  At each party she attended, I knew to expect more extreme drug usage; during each online exchange, I knew to expect more extreme sexual behaviour.  The repetitive nature of events becomes tiresome. 

I’m not certain about the target audience.  Is the book intended for teenaged girls?  Some might be able to relate to Katie, but I wonder whether it would actually positively influence troubled girls.  As a former teacher who taught teenagers for 30 years, I found much of the depiction of Katie to be realistic; however, the book became monotonous for this adult reader.

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

Review of THE HOUSEKEEPER by Joy Fielding (New Release)

3.5 Stars

This domestic suspense novel is a good summer diversion.

Jodi Bishop hires a housekeeper to help her aging father Vic and her mother Audrey who is largely bed-ridden because of late-stage Parkinson’s.  Elyse Woodley is the perfect candidate for the position; she is energetic and has such an engaging personality that she even wins over Vic who is initially resistant to the idea of a live-in housekeeper.  She seems too good to be true and that quickly proves to be the case when Audrey’s condition worsens and Elyse starts wearing her jewelry. 

Meanwhile, Jodi’s life is not the happiest; at one point, she describes it as “a churning, cloudy mess.”  She tries to balance her demanding job as a successful real estate agent, her marriage to a self-involved writer struggling for the last decade with his second novel, her home with two young children, and her filial duty to her parents.  Harrison, her husband, is not supportive and her self-absorbed sister Tracy does little to help with Vic and Audrey, so Jodi feels overwhelmed and under-appreciated. 

The plot is not particularly original.  It is quite predictable, especially because there is so much foreshadowing.  Jodi, the narrator, ends virtually every chapter with comments like “Now I realize that it was one of the few honest things [Elyse] ever told me” and “Just another one of the voices I chose to ignore” and “In the end, I have only myself to blame.  I’m the one who let her in.”  I suspected a connection between Elyse and another character as soon as that character is introduced.  There really are no shocking twists or revelations. 

The characters are clearly differentiated but unlikeable.  The men in particular are insufferable.  Vic is emotionally distant, overbearing, and critical.  He even insists that the housekeeper be good looking.  Harrison complains whenever he is asked to take care of his own children; though Jodi is the breadwinner for the family, he argues that she is not spending enough time at home.  He is an expert at gaslighting his wife.  Tracy is so shallow, self-centered, and entitled.  Though she is 45, she has no income and relies on her father to pay her bills and cater to her expensive tastes.  Jodi is such a doormat; she lets people walk all over her.  As the novel progresses, I found myself becoming increasingly frustrated with her unwillingness to stand up for herself.

What is difficult to understand is why Jodi cares so much for people who seem to care little for her.  Vic mentions her weight and criticizes her in some way every time he speaks to her.  Harrison insists on being supported in his career, but doesn’t support his wife and is constantly pointing out her faults.  Tracy manipulates her sister to help her and then uses her as a scapegoat.  I can guess that her low self-esteem, the result of her upbringing, accounts for much of her behaviour, but she is in her forties and should have acquired some backbone. 

Written in an easy, approachable style with short chapters, the book is a good choice for a light, quick read for the summer. 

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

Review of THIS IS HOW WE LOVE by Lisa Moore (New Release)

 4 Stars

This latest Lisa Moore novel is an examination of family and the nature of love.

Twenty-one-year-old Xavier is unconscious in a hospital in St. Johns, Newfoundland, after being badly beaten and stabbed twice.  His mother sits by his bedside as the snowstorm of the century (January 2020) rages outside.  While we wait to see if he will survive, we gradually learn what led to the attack and are introduced to Xavier’s extended family and friends and are told their backstories.  We learn about Xavier’s parents, Jules and Joe, and his sister Stella; about Joe’s parents Florence and John and his siblings Nancy and Gerry; about Jules’ parents and sister Nell; about Trinity Brophy and her foster mother Mary Mahoney; and about Xavier’s relationship with his girlfriend Violet. 

The structure is not linear; instead, the book moves back and forth among different timelines and the perspectives of various characters.  The narrative often circles back to the present and Xavier’s condition.  As a result, there is a great deal of tension:  Who attacked Xavier?  Why?  Will he survive the infection that seems not to respond to antibiotics?  Will Joe, stranded in Montreal because of the storm, be able to reach his son’s side? 

“She wanted me to know the different kinds of family there are, an infinite number, arbitrary in shape and form.”  There are families created by blood and others created by choice.  By marrying Joe, Jules becomes a stepmother and gains a mother-in-law “raised by foster parents.”  Trinity is largely abandoned by her mother but she is fostered by Mary Mahoney:  “I’d never seen anything like actual love between Mary and Trinity, but there was something more durable and remote, a sense of inviolate duty towards each other. . . . They were family.”  Jules also cares for Trinity:  “[Xavier had] heard his mother on the phone once saying that Trinity was like her own.”  When speaking of his employees, Xavier’s employer “used the word family.  Or a kind of family.”  An old man’s caregivers “said they felt like they were more than just caretakers.  They were . . . family.” 

And the people in these “families” show their love in various ways.  Florence’s foster parents “had lavished her with love.”  Yet Florence and her husband Joe do not speak of love:  “the mentioning of such private feelings . . . was out of the ordinary in Joe’s family” believing “it was better to prove a love than declare it.”  So Florence demonstrates her love for her grandson by gifting him his grandfather’s suit to wear to his graduation prom.  Sometimes a neighbour shows love by helping take a young woman to the hospital.  A boy Xavier helped years earlier saves him from being beaten and robbed.  Xavier goes to great lengths to get Violet a duvet.  All of these are ways people love. 

Florence gives Jules “an edict about loving everyone who swept through.  If you failed to love someone, you might be scathing toward them or hilarious at their expense, but even then, even if they were distasteful to you, even then, you were expected to attempt something that loosely resembled love.” In turn, Jules teaches her son “that some people came into your life . . . and . . .  you were responsible for them.”  Certainly, the novel has examples of what happens when someone is not loved.  Trinity, abandoned by her mother, looks for love where she can find it, and that may explain her relationship with Bradley Murphy.  It is not a stretch, for example, to argue that Bradley Murphy’s behaviour can be traced back to his upbringing; in his case, no one stepped in to show him love.  Obviously, the message is that love (and lack thereof) shapes lives and motivates one’s actions. 

The novel’s characterization is exceptional.  Though many of the characters seem to flit in and out of the narrative, we do in fact get to know them well.  I found myself being able to predict how characters would behave because their personalities and attitudes are so clearly delineated.  For instance, even when Xavier thinks, “Trinity Brophy was not his family and not his problem,” I knew exactly what he would do.

I thoroughly enjoyed this novel.  Some may dislike the style which may seem fragmentary and disjointed but I think it reflects the surreal situation which Xavier’s loved ones are experiencing.  The book left me thinking about love and “How it has nothing to do with blood or choosing or being chosen.  It has to do with being able.” 

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

Review of ELIZABETH FINCH by Julian Barnes (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

I’ve been a fan of Julian Barnes since I read his A History of the World in 10 ½ Chapters so I was anxious to read his latest offering.  I’m accustomed to Barnes’ blurring of lines between fiction and history, but I was disappointed with this book which is less a novel than a philosophical and theological discourse structured around an essay about a Roman emperor. 

The book is divided into three parts.  In the first section, we meet Neil, the narrator, who took an adult education course entitled “Culture and Civilization” taught by Elizabeth Finch (EF).  Neil describes her appearance, traits, mannerisms, beliefs, and method of teaching, and his history with her.  For Neil, she is an inspirational teacher who “’shook my mind around, made me constantly rethink, burst stars inside my head.’”  The second part is an essay Neil writes about the Roman Emperor known as Julian the Apostate whom Elizabeth Finch admired.  Neil outlines the various historical views of the man.  In the last section, Neil tries to piece together a biography of his admired mentor and comes to realize that not everyone was as enamored as he with the woman he thought could do no wrong.

The opening section caught my attention, especially because most of us can relate to having a charismatic educator who provoked and inspired.  Neil describes EF’s intelligence and wit, her reserve, and her calm stoicism.  He appreciates her collaborative teaching style in which “she directed us elegantly away from the obvious.”  Even after the class finishes, Neil maintains contact with her though she always remains somewhat remote.

The middle section is an essay Neil writes.  He inherits Elizabeth’s books and papers and, to honour his mentor, he researches Julian the Apostate.  In writing the essay, he seems to be trying to know EF by understanding why she admired him and lamented his early death.  EF believed that Julian’s death was a disaster for paganism and lead to the catastrophe of monotheism:  “the dominance and corruption of Christianity led to ‘the closing of the European mind’, the leaching of joy out of Europe, and the persecution and expulsion of Jews and Muslims."  Certainly, the reader is left to consider what the world would be like if Christianity had remained a fringe belief system.  Unfortunately, I found this essay dull.

The final part returns to a focus on EF.  Neil considers writing a biography of EF and interviews others who knew her, only to discover that others saw or knew her differently; rather than a clearer impression of her, what emerges is a more complex and confusing image.  Neil is left wondering “how biographers do it:  make a life, a living life, a glowing life, a coherent life out of all that circumstantial, contradictory and missing evidence.”

Of course, this discovery suggests one of the main themes of the novel:  people are not really truly knowable.  Just as there are various historical views of Julian, there are different views of EF.  Just as Neil cannot completely understand Julian because of conflicting opinions, he is left confounded by what he learns about his beloved instructor from others who encountered her.  In the end, he has only a fragmentary, elusive portrait of EF. 

It is important to remember who the narrator is.  Middle-aged, Neil has two failed marriages and an undistinguished career as a job surfer.  One of his children dubs him “King of Unfinished Projects”, an apt title considering that he doesn’t even write the final essay of the class even though it could be on any subject related to the course.  He is blind to the fact that a fellow student is in love with him.  Certainly, he wears blinkers when it comes to EF.  Faced with evidence that is less than complimentary, Neil always defends EF even if his reasoning is obviously faulty.  How reliable is he in his interpretation of EF? 

It is the essay that comprises the middle section that negatively affected my enjoyment of the book.  It is obvious that Neil is not an historian; his essay reads more like an article one could find on Wikipedia.  It is repetitive and tedious.  I wanted more about the eponymous character.  The themes that people cannot be fully understood or that memory has limitations or that “’Some things are up to us and some things are not up to us’” are not developed in an exceptionally original way.   

A novel for me need not be full of drama, but this one, unlike other of Barnes’ novels, did not resonate with me.

See my reviews of other Julian Barnes novels:

The Sense of an Ending:  https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2015/12/book-advent-calendar-day-two-sense-of.html

The Only Story: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2018/04/review-of-only-story-by-julian-barnes.html

The Noise of Time:   https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2016/04/review-of-noise-of-time-by-julian-barnes.html

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

Review of MEDUSA by Rosie Hewlett

 3.5 Stars

I’ve read a number of retellings of Greek myths and usually enjoy them so I picked up this book about the infamous monster who turned men into stone with a mere glance.  This version is a sympathetic retelling with definite feminist overtones. 

The novel is structured as an extended monologue by Medusa from the Underworld.  She tells her own story and shows that there is more to her than the things she has been called: “Seductress.  Liar.  Monster.  Killer.”  She shows how she was an abandoned child, a priestess, a rape victim, a survivor, and a mother.  She proves that she is not the villain, “But history is written by the winners.  Or, more simply, history is written by men.”

The villains are the gods.  Poseidon rapes Medusa, and then Athena punishes the victim because Athena’s temple was desecrated.  Though Athena is told about the rape and Medusa’s powerlessness to prevent it, Athena ignores Poseidon’s guilt and transforms Medusa and her sisters into monsters.  Though Medusa dedicated herself to Athena’s service and prayed to her often, Athena never answered her prayers.  She appears only when she feels she has been disrespected and her temple defiled.  Medusa comes to see the gods as self-centred with no real concern for human beings.  Even Perseus is Athena’s puppet who must do as she wishes or she will take vengeance against him. 

Medusa emerges as a complex character who has normal emotions and dreams.  She suffers pain and makes sacrifices, but is also flawed.  She acknowledges her evil deeds (turning men to stone), explaining her rationale:  “The real Gods were untouchable . . . So I funneled my bitter hatred through acts I deemed as justice, using my curse to protect women from ever having to endure what I went through.  . . . I told myself I was righting the wrongs the Gods never would.”  Later she thinks that “I was not trying to destroy men; I was trying to obliterate all memories of that helpless, beautiful, weak Medusa.  If I could make the world my victim, then perhaps I could forget what it had felt like to be one.”  She wants her audience to remember that “most monsters are made, not born.  Perhaps you should remember that next time you encounter one.”  She has regrets:  “there is one victim who has haunted me since the day I took his life and I believe he will continue to for the rest of my eternity.”  Though she is also honest and admits that she was intoxicated with her power and does not regret “most of my actions.”

The writing style is conversational.  Medusa speaks in a straightforward manner in modern English.  She decides she no longer wants to be the silent victim:  “a part of me has been inspired by modern-day voices, those voices that are shaking the very foundations their injustices have been built upon.”  Certainly the modern world will find her much of her story relatable:  the blaming and shaming and silencing of victims continue:  “I was not the first woman to be blamed for a man’s flaws and I certainly will not be the last.” 

I enjoyed the book, but I must admit to wanting more.  Having read Circe by Madeline Miller (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2018/09/review-of-circe-by-madeline-miller.html) and The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2018/12/review-of-silence-of-girls-by-pat-barker.html), I was hoping for more depth.  I think there’s more potential in Medusa’s story, but this retelling is a good beginning.

Review of LAPVONA by Ottessa Moshfegh

 1 Star

This is my first encounter with this author, and I think it will be my last.  I feel I just read the opus of an immature teenager who is fascinated with grotesqueness and depravity and wants to shock readers. 

The novel is set in medieval times in a quasi-historical Eastern European village called Lapvona.  The impoverished villagers try to eke a living from the land while Villiam, a man-baby and creepy lord of the manor, lives in luxury.  Villiam is not in the least concerned with helping the villagers; he has a pathological need for constant entertainment, especially the kind that involves the humiliation of others. 

There are numerous characters and all are repulsive and/or selfish and/or immoral.  There’s a charlatan priest who works with Villiam to keep the Lapvonians docile.  There’s an old crone who served as wet nurse for many village children in the past and continues to let adult men suckle; she removes her eyeballs and replaces them with those of a horse.  There’s a sheep herder who physically abuses his son on a regular basis.  Instances of murder, rape, incest, flagellation, abuse, suicide, and cannibalism are detailed.  The repeated references to urine and feces seem to be intended to disgust the reader.

The flat tone of the narrative suggests a fable, but there is no moral or message.  Near the end, the author even suggests the reader try to find a purpose:  “Perhaps it is most miraculous when God exacts justice even when no human lifts a finger.  Or perhaps it is simply fate.  Everything seems reasonable in hindsight.  Right or wrong, you will think what you need to think so that you can get by.  So find some reason here:”  The only message I found is that people are stupid and selfish and life is cruel and meaningless.

As I was reading, I kept looking for some purpose to the story, but I came to the conclusion that there is none.  It seemed the author was adding horrors just to horrify; the book seems a mindless indulgence in vulgarity.  I became increasingly bored and disconnected as I read, and I hazard that the author did too as she wrote. 

I almost feel like I shouldn’t write a review of this book because doing so just suggests the book has some value.  Life is difficult enough; I don’t enjoy a grim slog through a book that reads like a litany of life’s brutalities. 

Review of THE WOMAN IN THE LIBRARY by Sulari Gentill

 3 Stars

I decided to read this novel because so many reviews called its structure clever.  Having finished the book, I’m left wondering what left readers in such awe.  Embedded narratives and nested stories are not that unusual. 

Hannah Tigone, an Australian writer stuck in pandemic lockdown in her home country, is writing a novel set in Boston.  She corresponds with Leo Johnson, a wannabe writer and fan who lives in Boston, who is happy to help Hannah research her setting.  The novel she is writing is narrated in the first person by Winifred (Freddie) Kincaid who is living in Boston because she has won a prestigious writers’ fellowship.  While in the Boston Public Library, Freddie and the other library patrons hear a woman scream.  That scream serves to introduce Freddie to three people seated beside her:  Whit Metters, Cain McLeod, and Marigold Anastas.  The four bond over that scream; Freddie even uses it as the inciting incident for her mystery novel.  A woman’s body is discovered in the library and more violent incidents occur; Freddie realizes that one of her new friends is a killer.

Each chapter of The Woman in the Library is a chapter in Hannah’s book.  At the end of each is a message from Leo offering criticism and suggestions.  It is these missives that I found most interesting.  Initially Leo is sycophantic but gradually he becomes pushy and then his commentary becomes disturbing.  He starts sending increasingly violent photos of crime scenes. 

There are several aspects which I found problematic.  The instant friendship among the four just seems ridiculous.  A scream can certainly act as a catalyst for conversation, but to have such intimate friendships develop immediately seems forced.  Then they don’t do anything but hang around together!  Though Whit and Marigold are in their early 20s, Cain is 30 years old and Freddie is 27.  Why then do they often behave like teenagers?  Freddie once refers to herself as behaving as a fourteen-year-old, and later accuses Whit of acting that age.  Whit’s mother once refers to them as “kids” and that’s a perfect description! 

Joe, the doorman, is a character who appears and disappears.  Why does he sometimes call to let Freddie know that someone has arrived to see her (e.g. two detectives) and other times doesn’t (e.g. two lawyers)?  Sometimes people are just able to go to her apartment and bang on the door?  And what’s with the episode with Mrs. Weinbaum?  The ending just seems gimmicky.  The reader is left to question whether Hannah is showing contempt for Leo or whether Hannah’s Leo and Freddie’s Leo are supposed to be similar characters.

None of the characters is likeable or memorable.  They are just bland and two-dimensional.  Marigold comes across as a stalker, yet the other three set no boundaries and let her continue her nosiness?  Freddie is just silly much of the time.  Hannah is not present as a character, but I couldn’t help but wonder why an Australian writer would base her novel in Boston when there’s no particular reason to do so. 

The book is not badly written, but neither is it of exceptional quality.  It left me shrugging my shoulders as to why so many readers were so impressed.