Schatje’s Favourite Books Read in 2022

Schatje's Favourite Books Read in 2022

Of the 104 novels I read this year, here are my favourites.  Most were published in 2022, though some were released in 2021.  It’s been a great year of reading!

 

Favourite Canadian Literary Fiction

When We Lost Our Heads by Heather O’Neill (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/02/review-of-when-we-lost-our-heads-by.html)  

Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/06/review-of-sea-of-tranquility-by-emily.html)

This is How We Love by Lisa Moore (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/08/review-of-this-is-how-we-love-by-lisa.html)

The Sea between Two Shores by Tanis Rideout (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/09/review-of-sea-between-two-shores-by.html)

The Last Chairlift by John Irving (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/12/review-of-last-chairlift-by-john-irving.html)

Going to Beautiful by Anthony Bidulka (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/05/review-of-going-to-beautiful-by-anthony.html)

Everyone Knows Your Mother is a Witch by Rivka Galchen (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/01/review-of-everyone-knows-your-mother-is.html)

Favourite Literary Fiction from the United Kingdom

Fall by West Camel (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/02/review-of-fall-by-camel-west.html)

The Fell by Sarah Moss (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/03/review-of-fell-by-sarah-moss-new-release.html)

Young Mungo by Douglas Stuart (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/04/review-of-young-mungo-by-douglas-stuart.html)

The Shot by Sarah Sultoon (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/04/review-of-shot-by-sarah-sultoon.html)

Lessons by Ian McEwan (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/09/review-of-lessons-by-ian-mcewan-new.html)

The Marriage Portrait by Maggie O’Farrell (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/11/review-of-marriage-portrait-by-maggie.html)

Shrines of Gaiety by Kate Atkinson (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/12/review-of-shrines-of-gaiety-by-kate.html)

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/01/review-of-small-things-like-these-by.html)

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/01/review-of-piranesi-by-susanna-clarke.html)

Favourite American Literary Fiction

Ocean State by Stewart O’Nan (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/03/review-of-ocean-state-by-stewart-onan.html)  

French Braid by Anne Tyler (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/03/review-of-french-braid-by-anne-tyler.html)

Nightcrawling by Leila Mottley (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/06/review-of-nightcrawling-by-leila.html)

The Precious Jules by Shawn Nocher (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/06/review-of-precious-jules-by-shawn.html)

Horse by Geraldine Brooks (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/07/review-of-horse-by-geraldine-brooks.html)

Lucy by the Sea by Elizabeth Strout (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/09/review-of-lucy-by-sea-by-elizabeth.html)

The Magic Kingdom by Russell Banks (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/11/review-of-magic-kingdom-by-russell.html)

Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/12/review-of-demon-copperhead-by-barbara.html)

The Trees by Percival Everett (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/11/review-of-trees-by-percival-everett.html)

 

Favourite International Literary Fiction

An Island by Karen Jennings (South Africa) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/01/review-of-island-by-karen-jennings.html

Three by Valérie Perrin (France) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/06/review-of-three-by-valerie-perrin-new.html

Tasting Sunlight by Ewald Arenz (Germany) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/06/review-of-tasting-sunlight-by-ewald.html

People Like Them by Samira Sedira (France) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/03/review-of-people-like-them-by-samir.html

Among the Hedges by Sara Mesa (Spain) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/04/review-of-among-hedges-by-sara-mesa.html

Remote Sympathy by Catherine Chidgey (New Zealand) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/04/review-of-remote-sympathy-by-catherine.html

The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak (Turkey) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/07/review-of-island-of-missing-trees-by.html

 

Favourite Crime Drama/Mystery/Thrillers

The Maid by Nita Prose (Canada) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/01/review-of-maid-by-nita-prose-new-release.html

Cold as Hell by Lilja Sigurðardóttir (Iceland) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/01/review-of-cold-as-hell-by-lilja.html

Faceless by Vanda Symon (New Zealand) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/01/review-of-faceless-by-vanda-symon-new.html

Night Shadows by Eva Björg Ægisdóttir (Iceland) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/07/review-of-night-shadows-by-eva-bjorg.html

The Rising Tide by Ann Cleeves (England) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/09/review-of-rising-tide-by-ann-cleeves.html

The Bleeding by Johana Gustawsson (France) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/09/review-of-bleeding-by-johana-gustawsson.html

The Pain Tourist by Paul Cleave (New Zealand) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/12/review-of-pain-tourist-by-paul-cleave.html

We Know You Remember by Tove Alsterdal (Sweden) https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/07/review-of-we-know-you-remember-by-tove.html

Review of THE LAST CHAIRLIFT by John Irving (New Release)

 4 Stars

For lovers of John Irving like me, another novel by him is a gift indeed. 

The protagonist/narrator is Adam Brewster.  He is born to a single mother, Little Ray, who refuses to tell him the identity of his biological father other than that he was young and small; she chose him because she wanted a child with no strings attached.  A ski instructor, Little Ray is away from home for half the year so Adam lives with his grandparents.  The novel tells his life story, to the age of 80, and that of his family, with a focus on love, sex, and death.  Throughout his life, he is surrounded by strong, independent, and eccentric women who shape his life:  his grandmother who reads Moby-Dick and Dottie, a live-in nurse; his mother and her partners, the trail groomer and the little snowshoer; and his cousin Nora and her lover who communicates only through pantomime.  Not surprisingly in an Irving novel, Adam becomes a writer. 

Two sections of the novel, Adam’s two visits to Aspen, Colorado, are written in screenplay format.  In his quest to find his father, Adam travels to Colorado because he learns that he was conceived in Aspen’s Hotel Jerome in 1941.  What transpires in Aspen has a profound impact on Adam:  “Screenplays are written in the present tense, as if what you see is happening for the first time.  That’s why what happened to me in Aspen is a movie; it’s always happening, again and again, for the first time.”  Unfortunately, I didn’t enjoy reading the screenplay format.  The inclusion of characters who are ghosts also did not appeal. 

Also as typical in an Irving book, the narrator is more an observer than an active participant; in some ways, Adam seems the least important character.  For instance, what stands out for me is the fact that we learn very little about Adam’s writing.  He narrates the stories of the significant people in his life and chronicles the changes in American society over the course of his life.  He comments on events like the war in Vietnam but zeroes in on sex and gender politics.  Homophobia and transphobia are depicted, and there is scathing criticism of the Catholic Church’s hypocrisy regarding sex and President Reagan’s failure to address the AIDS crisis.  The U.S. is described as “a country of sexual intolerance.”  I especially appreciated the comments about Trump - tracing his MAGA slogan back to Reagan and predicting his future:  “’Trump is just another criminal – he’s going to end up in jail . . . Losers never stop whining . . . all Trump will end up doing is whining.’”

As expected, Irving once again champions sexual tolerance and acceptance of alternative families.  At a young age, Adam is told, “’There’s more than one way to love people’” and “’if you truly love someone, you have to love everything about them.  Even the things that hurt.’”  Those in non-traditional families are consistently loving, loyal, and supportive, while those in conventional marriages often are the most unpleasant people.  Adam’s two aunts, for example, are undoubtedly among the villains – their intolerance of any differences makes them totally despicable.  That one of them is the mother to Henrik, an intolerant, gun-loving Republican politician, is not surprising.   

This is very much a novel of character.  All the main characters emerge as complex and flawed so, even if quirky, they feel genuine.  Little Ray, for instance, is domineering and some of her behaviour is cringe-inducing, but her love and support for her son are unwavering.  Her willingness to shoot a young man in the knee to prevent him from being sent to fight in Vietnam cannot but inspire the reader to give consideration to what motivates her. 

Death features prominently in the book.  People die of natural causes, accidents, murder, and suicide.  Some deaths are expected and some are shocking.  Some people return as ghosts, though others do not; some people see these ghosts, and others do not.  There seem to be no rules governing ghosts.  Though death always seems to be lurking, the main message seems to be that “’Death is only a launching into the region of the strange Untried.’” 

As expected from Irving, there is also humour.  Adam’s sexual encounters with inappropriate women are hilarious.  And I will never forget Nora’s discussion of the hyphen in Melville’s Moby-Dick!  Some of the scenes are a little over-the-top:  a mute, old man suffering from dementia and wearing only a diaper being struck by lightning seems “noir” – but I guess that’s appropriate considering the discussion of noir fiction and films. 

Readers familiar with Irving will find much that is found in his other 14 novels.  At almost 900 pages, it undoubtedly requires someone willing to go the distance.  At times, it seems scattered, but then the author may be trying to emphasize what is repeated more than once:  in writing “you can’t leave out anything important.  Lies of omission count as lies” and “Unrevised, real life is just a mess.” 

I recommend this as a perfect book for the long winter nights ahead. 

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

Review of THE MOON SISTER by Lucinda Riley

 2.5 Stars

This is the fifth book in The Seven Sisters series to which I am listening on my morning walks.

Six girls were adopted by Pa Salt, an ultra-wealthy man.  After he dies, each daughter is given a letter and a clue to her true heritage.   Each daughter’s journey is the subject of a novel.  The Moon Sister is the story of the fifth daughter, Tiggy.

Tiggy gets a job as a wildlife consultant in the Scottish Highlands.  There she meets Chilly, a Spanish gypsy who tells her he was expecting her; he tells her that her roots lie within the Roma community of Sacromonte near Granada, Spain.  Of course, she travels there and learns more about her family, especially Lucía Amaya-Albaycin, a great flamenco dancer.  As expected, Tiggy, who has always been described as intuitive, is identified as a bruja, a healer who can connect with the supernatural world.  Angelina, a relative, teaches her all about herbs and how to use her intuition. 

The structure is that of previous books in the series.  There are two narratives, the present involving Tiggy and the past describing the life of an ancestor who is exceptional in some way.  Again, there is more focus on distant relatives, a grandmother and great-grandmother, rather than on Tiggy’s mother whose story is almost an afterthought.

Tiggy is a likeable character, though her meekness and unwillingness to speak up and thereby avoid misunderstandings become annoying.  Why not tell Charlie the real reason for her leaving his employ?  Why not be more direct with Zed?  She repeatedly mentions her veganism but eats food made with dairy products?  Her grandmother Lucía, however, is not sympathetic in the least.  She is totally self-absorbed, uninterested in anything except her dancing career.  By choice, she remains illiterate.  She is never satisfied and always wants more.  And she abandons her own child, even after her own childhood?!  I’ve enjoyed the historical information provided in the other books, but this one has much less, although there is a definite attempt to portray Roma culture in a positive light. 

The love-at-first-sight trope is used again and is unconvincing.  The relationship between Charlie and Tiggy just doesn’t ring true.  Coincidence is certainly overused in this novel so that it is difficult to suspend disbelief.  Chilly waited in Scotland for Tiggy’s arrival so he could send her to Spain – even though Pa Salt left her a letter telling her where to go and even the colour of a door?  Zed shows up on the remote Scottish estate where Tiggy works? 

This book has more hints about Pa Salt.  Tiggy visits her childhood home, known as Atlantis, and discovers a previously unknown basement in the house.  Of course the mystery of that man will not be solved until the eighth book.  In the meantime, I’ll continue to book six.  Though I’m becoming disenchanted with the repetitive structure and weaknesses in the books, they are perfect companions for my easily distracted mind while I’m on my morning walks.  I recommend the series only to those who want pure escapism and are willing to overlook the flaws.

Review of A DARK MATTER by Doug Johnstone

3.5 Stars 

I’m a latecomer to the Skelf series; there are now four books following three generations of Skelf women living in Edinburgh.  I’m glad to have made their acquaintance.

This first novel in the series begins with the death of Jim Skelf, the patriarch of the family.  After his passing, his wife Dorothy, daughter Jenny, and granddaughter Hannah take over the family’s funeral home and private investigator businesses.  Besides grieving, each of the three has a case to solve.  Dorothy sets out to find out why Jim was paying an unknown woman a stipend every month for years.  Jenny is hired by a woman to find proof that her husband is cheating on her.  And when her roommate Mel goes missing, Hannah is determined to find her. 

The novel has a great opening sentence:  “Her dad took much longer to burn than she expected.”  What a great way to grab the reader’s attention.  There follow 64 short, snappy chapters alternating among the three Skelf women. 

It is the three women who are the main attraction.  Dorothy is 70, Jenny is in her mid-40s, and Hannah is 20 so they are of three different generations with different perspectives on life.  Dorothy and Hannah are the most similar; Dorothy will stop at nothing to learn the truth and her granddaughter is tenacious in her search for Mel.  Jenny seems the most fragile; she has lost her job and seems not to have recovered from her divorce though it’s been a decade, so she drinks too much and makes some questionable choices.  What I liked is that all three women are flawed; they all make mistakes and jump to conclusions. 

Dorothy is my favourite, perhaps because I’m closest to her in age.  She does not behave like a stereotypical septuagenarian.  Though she practices yoga, she also plays the drums.  As expected, she spends time reflecting on her life and how she, an American from California, came to be in Scotland.  I enjoyed her musings about life.

Men do not fare well in terms of their depiction.  Many are portrayed as sexist.  Jenny confronts a man suspected in Mel’s disappearance and she thinks, “He had no experience of this, hadn’t ever had to fend off a sexual advance, an unwanted hand, an accidental squeeze of your breast that wasn’t accidental at all.”  One male who is portrayed positively is Thomas Olsson, Dorothy’s policeman friend.  Unfortunately, he does not come across as credible:  he seems to be at the Skelf family’s beck and call, running DNA tests, stepping in to assist in their cases, and freely sharing information on on-going investigations. 

Another weakness is the improbable illegal events; there’s a backyard cremation, two nighttime disinterments, a break-in, and two assaults.  Yet the Skelfs must be coated in Teflon because they never suffer any consequences.  Certainly the weapon Dorothy uses to defend herself in an attack should have inspired Thomas to ask some questions. 

Though the book could be classified as a crime drama, it also has qualities of literary fiction.  It emphasizes that it is impossible to really know anyone.  We all have secrets and different sides to our personalities.  Certainly, all three Skelf women learn that those very close to them have secrets.  The novel also emphasizes inter-connectedness:  “the tendrils of life spread out like a single organism, each reliant on being part of the greater whole for its continued existence.”  And one thing that connects all of us is the inevitability of death.  The book reminded me of Six Feet Under, a television series I loved.  Both focus on human mortality, the death industry, and the lives of those who deal with it on a daily basis. 

I am sufficiently intrigued with the Skelf women to want to find out what happens next. 

Review of DEMON COPPERHEAD by Barbara Kingsolver

 4 Stars

This is a retelling of Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield set in southern Appalachia. 

Damon Fields, aka Demon Copperhead, is born to a widowed, teenaged, rehab-prone mother in a single-wide trailer in southwest Virginia.  His impoverished childhood is not easy, especially after his mother becomes involved with an abusive man.  Then from the age of 11, Demon finds himself within the foster care system which has him bouncing from one dysfunctional family to another.  Will he be able to escape the brutal life that seems to be his destiny?

It is not necessary to have read David Copperfield, but fans of Dickens will enjoy spotting parallel characters.  The Peggottys, Murdstone, Uriah Heep, James Steerforth, the Micawber family, Mr. Creakle, Agnes Wickfield, Tommy Traddles, and Dora all have their counterpoints in Kingsolver’s novel. 

Kingsolver acknowledges her debt to Dickens and “his impassioned critique of institutional poverty and its damaging effects on children in his society.”  Demon mentions Dickens as well:  “one seriously old guy, dead and a foreigner, but Christ Jesus did he get the picture on kids and orphans getting screwed over and nobody giving a rat’s ass.  You’d think he was from around here.”  Kingsolver describes the horrors of child poverty; Demon talks about “Going hungry for the entirety of fifth grade.”

Through her fiction, Kingsolver criticizes “the monster-truck mud rally of child services.”  Case workers are inept and ineffective if not neglectful.  Foster parents engage in child labour and seem to be concerned only with the cheques they receive.  Another target of criticism is the pharmaceutical industry which preys on poor people:  drug companies “looked at data and everything with their computers, and hand-picked targets like Lee County that were gold mines.  They actually looked up which doctors had the most pain patients on disability, and sent out their drug reps for the full offensive.”  OxyContin soon became “God’s gift for the laid-off deep-hole man with his back and neck bones grinding like bags of gravel.  For the bent-over lady pulling double shifts at Dollar General with her shot knees and ADHD grandkids to raise by herself.” 

Demon is the narrator and his voice is one of the gems of the book.  He is sassy and sarcastic and witty.  For instance, where he lives becomes “One Nation Under Employed,” and being allowed inside the football field house brings Demon into “the presence of greatness.  Or the wet towels and jockstraps of greatness.”  Appropriately, he makes pop culture references:  “Counting on Jesus to save the day is no more real than sending up the Batman signal.”  Demon reminds me of Holden Caulfield who is actually mentioned.  It is impossible not to cheer for Demon.  He is resilient, a survivor who is fiercely devoted to rural Appalachia and his friends. 

Just as Demon loves the place where he was born, Kingsolver’s love for Appalachia also shines through the book.  It is repeatedly mentioned that the rural poor of this part of the U.S. are ignored or stereotyped and ridiculed as hillbillies:  “All down the years, words have been flung like pieces of shit . . . Rednecks, moonshiners, ridge runners, hicks.  Deplorables.”  By giving a voice to these people, Kingsolver asks people to see and understand their struggles, to be open-minded and not judgmental. 

At 560 pages, this is a lengthy book, but it does not seem so long.  And though it is not a light-hearted read with its portrayal of poverty, child abuse of many forms, rampant drug use, teen pregnancies, and premature deaths, I still recommend it.  Time spent with Barbara Kingsolver is always time well spent.

Review of SHRINES OF GAIETY by Kate Atkinson

4 Stars

With its many vivid characters and detailed world building, this book reads like a Charles Dickens novel if that author had lived to describe the Roaring Twenties in London. 

The novel focuses on the glitzy and sleazy nightlife in London in 1926.  The owner of several nightclubs is Nellie Croker who has built an empire of six shrines of gaiety/dens of iniquity.  Chief Inspector John Frobisher sets out to topple that empire:  “It was not the moral delinquency – the dancing, the drinking, not even the drugs – that dismayed Frobisher.  It was the girls.  Girls were disappearing in London.  At least five he knew about had vanished over the last few weeks.  Where did they go?  He suspected that they went in through the doors of the Soho clubs and never came out again.”  The bodies of some girls have washed up in the Thames.  Frobisher enlists the help of Gwendolen Kelling, a former war nurse and discontented librarian from York, who comes to London to find two 14-year-old girls, Freda Murgatroyd and Florence Ingram, who have fled to the city in hopes of careers on stage.  Gwendolen infiltrates Nellie’s queendom and becomes exposed to the machinations of the Crokers and others wanting to bring down the queen. 

There are numerous colourful characters:  the ruthless Nellie and her six children (Niven, Edith, Ramsey, Betty, Shirley, Kitty), the melancholic Frobisher and his troubled wife, star-struck Freda and her naïve friend Florence, corrupt policemen, a back alley abortionist, pickpockets, hedonistic socialites, sex workers, and gangsters.  My favourite character is the plucky and competent Gwendolen.  She is more astute than Frobisher, and because of her war experience, remains calm and cool regardless of circumstances.  Her witty exchanges and not taking herself too seriously add some lighthearted notes to a novel set in the dark underbelly of London.

And there is indeed darkness:  poverty, corruption, robberies, drug usage, alcoholism, gambling, prostitution, sexual assaults, gang violence, suicide, missing women, and murders.  Certainly, all seven deadly sins make an appearance.  The novel makes repeated reference to the trauma of the war that ended less than a decade earlier:  “War was a foul thing.  It should be sent back to the hell where it had come from and never let out again.”  Gwendolen and Nellie’s eldest son Niven were both in the war and both think of it in derogatory terms:  “At no point in the war or after . . . did Niven ever think anyone had won” and “Gwendolen had known men in the war whose nerves had not just been frayed but shredded by the abominations they had witnessed” and “the insanely stupid bastards in government who thought war was necessary and good.”

There are frequent shifts in perspective:  certainly more than a dozen.  The omniscient narrator takes the reader into the consciousness of Nellie, Frobisher, Gwendolen, and Freda several times, but also into the minds of many secondary characters.  As a consequence, it is not possible to see anyone as one-dimensional.  Nellie is an appealing anti-hero, and even villains have some positive traits. 

There are also many coincidences.  Objects like a demonic doorknocker, a bluebird brooch, and a silver penknife appear more than once and connect disparate characters.  Characters also meet with improbable frequency.  For instance, Frobisher has a chance encounter with Freda without realizing who she is.  The coincidences in Dickens’ novels usually involve unexpected connections between a relatively small number of people, and that is the case here:  Gwendolen and Niven, Freda and Ramsey, and Edith and Maddox.  Atkinson is well aware of the number of coincidences because she even comments, “And then at that moment an extraordinary coincidence.”

This book can be described as an experimental genre.  Ramsey Croker, a wannabe author, begins a novel he describes as unwieldy:  ‘it was a crime novel, but it was also ‘a razor-sharp dissection of the various strata of society in the wake of the destruction of war’.’’  Atkinson’s book can be described as historical fiction with elements of a crime drama and romance, as well as satire.  It is not, however, unwieldy.  I loved the commentary on human foibles whether that is the description of Nellie and dictators as “hard-nosed yet occasionally mawkishly sentimental” or an older man as “foolishly flattered by the attentions of a younger woman . . . a story as ancient as the Greek gods themselves.”  Some of the insights are more affecting:  Freda meets a friend who behaves like a “jaded metropolitan girl” but Freda realizes “If you looked carefully, beneath the heavy makeup and the strained, tired eyes, the real Cherry was probably still in there trying to protect herself.”

Like all of Atkinson’s books, I enjoyed this one.  It has all those elements which I like and have come to associate with her, regardless of the genre:  a complicated plot, eccentric characters, literary allusions, erudite vocabulary, and insights into human nature delivered with compassion and humour.  This is an entertaining and immersive read.

Review of THE PAIN TOURIST by Paul Cleave

 4.5 Stars

Do not begin reading this book in the evening because you will end up sleep deprived the next day; there is certainly no hyperbole in describing this multi-layered thriller as compulsive. 

Eleven-year-old James Garrett was critically injured and left in a coma after a home invasion which ended with the execution-style killings of his parents.  While comatose, he constructed an alternative reality.  Nine years later he wakes up.  Having an eidetic memory, James, during his recovery, is able to recollect his imagined reality in detail, and it soon emerges that he created some events in his Coma World from what he overheard while unconscious.

Detective Rebecca Kent is tasked with finding the killers of James’ parents since the case was never solved, and there is concern that James and his sister Hazel might be targeted by the perpetrators not wanting to risk James’ remembering  something crucial from the night his parents were murdered.  Kent also re-opens a cold case when James inadvertently mentions details about another coma patient who once shared his hospital room.  And to further complicate her professional life, Kent is also investigating murders which imitate those of a notorious serial killer who operated in Christchurch.

Kent contacts a retired police detective, Theodore Tate, who now acts as a consultant for television crime dramas.  He originally worked on the Garrett murders, so she is looking for his insights, but Tate ends up being drawn into and deeply involved in all three of her investigations. 

Tension is felt in the opening scene and there is no abatement.  More than once I found myself holding my breath, and I did have to take an occasional brief break because the tension was almost overwhelming.  Characters are repeatedly placed in extreme danger.

Because the main characters are realistic and sympathetic, readers are concerned about the well-being of these characters.  For example, the viewpoints of James, Hazel, Rebecca, and Theodore are included at various points; because we are given access to their thoughts, we see their flaws and failings and understand their motivations.  They have all suffered major trauma so one cannot but care about them.  The villains tend to be more one-dimensional, evil with little evidence of redeeming traits.  Of course, this portrayal amps up the suspense because we know mercy will not be shown to anyone who crosses paths with them. 

I appreciated that the novel is not just entertaining but has thematic depth.  It certainly had me wondering what a patient in a coma actually experiences.  The reader is also inspired to think about pain tourists, people who are attracted to the pain and misery of others.  Are true-crime docudramas, podcasts, and books pandering to pain tourists? 

The book is dense, but the writer’s skill ensured I never felt lost.  In fact, I was left in awe at how cleverly the three investigations are interwoven.  The action never stops, and the 143 short, punchy chapters add to the fast pace.   

Anyone looking for a uniquely creative thriller with authentic characters, an intricate and twisty plot, and unrelenting suspense should definitely pick up this masterpiece of the genre.  Just be forewarned that it is addictive!

Review of LITTLE RED HOUSE by Liv Andersson (New Release)

3 Stars 

This psychological suspense thriller works with readers willing to turn off their critical thinking. 

There are alternating plotlines.  In 1997, Eve Foster is in Nihla, New Mexico, looking for her daughter Kelsey whom she believes may be the latest victim of a serial perpetrator who has kidnapped, abused and eventually killed several young women in the area.  In the present, Connie Foster, Eve’s adopted daughter, inherits a small property in Nihla while Connie’s twin Lisa receives the wealthy estate in Vermont.  The derelict house includes a mysterious caretaker whom Connie cannot fire.  Connie learns about murders and disappearances of women twenty years earlier and discovers that there have been more recently.  Though she believes her house may be somehow connected to these crimes and she may be in danger, residents of Nihla are reluctant to speak to her. 

The relationship between Connie and Eve is important to understand.  Connie believes that Eve is continuing her mind games from the grave because she played sadistic games for years, and Connie was always the target of the cruelty.  Because of this past, Connie suspects that her paltry inheritance is just another example of Eve’s vindictiveness.  And because the caretaker carries out Eve’s demands, Connie doubts that she can trust him.  In fact, Connie wonders if there is anyone she can trust so her isolation adds to the suspense. 

The book has several weaknesses.  For instance, people behave in unbelievable ways.  There are obvious solutions to problems that main characters ignore.  When a person slips her a piece of paper with a name on it, why doesn’t Connie return to get more information about the named individual instead of wasting time doing research herself?  A lawyer would actually draw up a will with such outrageous conditions as the ones found in Eve’s will?  A character who is repeatedly described as weak is capable of the acts described?  The reader is supposed to believe that virtually every police officer in Nihla is corrupt?  Sex scenes seem gratuitous.  And the novel relies heavily on tropes:  dirty cops and corrupt public officials, a distrustful community, and the evil stepmother among them.  The men tend to be manipulative and the women are submissive victims.  In short, the behaviour of some of the characters is so extreme as to be implausible.

Actually, there are many events which require a suspension of disbelief.  This is certainly the case of the ending.  Its twists are so farfetched as to be ridiculous.  There are clues, mostly repetition, which foreshadow some of these twists so astute readers may guess some of them.  But there are also unanswered questions:  What’s the deal with the majolica crucifixes?  Why must the caretaker remain for three years after Connie takes possession of the house?  Connie gives her age as 26 so how could Eve’s driver, who worked for her only the last five years, have given Connie lollipops when she was a kid?

More than one character plays mind games in the novel, but the author also plays games with readers.  Some readers will enjoy them, but I don’t like having to set aside my disbelief to be entertained. 

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

Review of ANIMAL LIFE by Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir (New Release)

3.5 Stars

Dýja is a midwife living in Reykjavík.  She inherited the apartment from her grandaunt Fífa who was also a midwife.  In the dark days of December leading up to Christmas, when she is not at work, Dýja spends time pouring over letters and manuscripts written by her grandaunt which consist primarily of reflections on birth, death, and aspects of human nature.

This is not a traditionally structured novel.  There is little linear plot; instead, the book is more of a collection of philosophical musings.  This lack of structure is intentional; it mimics the chaos of the manuscripts.  Reading the book is like Dýja’s trying to find connections in her grandaunt’s writings.  Towards the end, Dýja concludes:  “what I had previously experienced as chaos and disjointedness was precisely what constituted the idea behind the work, its goal and purpose . . . the structure of the work, with its peculiar collage of fragmented elements, is consistent with our grandaunt’s ideas about the nature of humanity and their unpredictable behaviour.” 

I found that I enjoyed the book if I stopped stressing about trying to find “logical continuity in the writing” and just focused on the grandaunt’s thoughts.  She was a woman ahead of her time in her thinking about man’s relationship with the environment; she comments on “the melting of the world’s largest water reservoir, the Arctic ice and glaciers” and “the depletion of forests” and “the emission of toxins and pollution in the seas of the world,” concluding that “the animals of the earth needed to be protected from the most dangerous animal of them all – the human beast.”

The comparisons between humans and animals I found especially interesting.  After comparing humans to various other species, Fífa concludes that “the one who calls himself the master of all creatures is in fact the most vulnerable of all animals, the most fragile species, more fragile than a porcelain vase, than a bird’s egg, the most fragile of the fragile on the planet.” 

Despite some rather negative comments about humans, the novel is hopeful:  “in the middle of darkness, the heart of darkness, there is light.”  Though  a human, “the most sensitive creature on earth never actually recovers from being born” and “all men are damaged by life” and “It’s difficult to understand another person . . . [and] even more difficult to understand . . . one’s self,” Fífa believes it is important to be courageous and “’to rejoice . . . in our good fortune at having been born.’” 

The book will not appeal to everyone, particularly those who prefer a plot-driven narrative.  Personally, though I can’t say that I enjoyed all parts, I did find myself reflecting on some of Fífa’s reflections, the most important of which may be that “ultimately everything is connected.”

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

Review of A DANGEROUS BUSINESS by Jane Smiley (New Release)

3 Stars 

The novel is set in the 1850s in Monterey, California.  Eliza, after the death of her husband, finds work in a brothel.  When several young women go missing and authorities take no action, Eliza and her friend Jean take it upon themselves to investigate.  They are inspired by the techniques of C. Auguste Dupin, the fictional detective introduced by Edgar Allan Poe in “The Murders in the Rue Morgue.”

The book suffers from a meandering plot that mirrors the women’s ambling.  The only sleuthing the two women do is walking or hiring horses for rides around Monterey.  The reader is given detailed descriptions of Eliza’s day, her walks/rides, the countryside, and the types of clients she services.  There is no real sense of rising tension though Eliza becomes suspicious of every man she encounters. 

Besides the slow pace, there are other issues with the plot.  Eliza and Jean stumble across three bodies?  This seems rather coincidental.  Some episodes seem to serve little purpose.  Why, for example, is it necessary to describe virtually all the meals that Eliza eats and even include a taste-testing of a biscuit versus a scone?  Then there are the needless repetitions:  the many descriptions of clients’ preferences for sexual activity become tedious.  At other times, an element is introduced and then dropped.  For instance, Jean mentions ghosts in almost every conversation in the first part of the book, but then loses interest?  Are the references to ghosts meant as a nod to Poe’s gothic horror fiction?  And the ending is underwhelming.  The resolution is weak; instead of a thrilling denouement, events at the end seem rushed and are wrapped up very neatly.  My reaction was, “That’s it?” 

Much about the novel feels flat.  Just as the plot is plodding, so is the prose because it lacks a smooth flow.  The characters also do not emerge as fully developed.  Eliza is unsophisticated and uneducated (having to learn about geography from her clients) and not especially intelligent.  Jean, with her penchant for cross-dressing and dramatic flairs, is much more interesting. 

The theme of the novel seems to be that it is dangerous to be a woman:  there are statements like “’being a woman is a dangerous business’” and “indeed, every woman in the world had been pushed and slapped.”  But there are some contradictions.  Yes, the victims in the book are women, but Eliza works in a clean brothel where she is protected from violent clients; even the madam is kind and caring.  (This depiction of prostitution in California during the Gold Rush is accurate?)  There is a serial killer, but most of the men seem to be rather solicitous. 

This book just wasn’t for me.  The plot is contrived and there is a lack of suspense.  I felt indifferent about the characters.  This is a disappointing novel from a Pulitzer Prize-winning author.

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