Review of THE INK BLACK HEART by Robert Galbraith

3 Stars 

This is the sixth book in the Strike Cormoran/Robin Ellacott series.

A troubled young woman, Edie Ledwell, comes to the agency, but Robin sends her elsewhere because they have too many cases and don’t specialize in cybercrime.  Shortly afterwards Edie, the co-creator of a highly successful YouTube animation series, is found murdered.  The main suspect is Anomie, the co-creator of a computer game based on the animation, who has been spewing online hate directed at Edie after her dismissal of the fan-generated game and the sale of the series to Netflix.  Cormoran and Robin are hired to discover Anomie’s identity and determine if he/she is the murderer.

The book is over 1,000 pages so it is not a quick read.  Entire chapters are devoted to gamer online chats, usually more than one occurring simultaneously.  Many characters have both real-world names and online names so it becomes difficult to keep track and remember who is who.  There’s often a case of information overload:  too much information about too many people.  There is not a lot of action or suspense.  Suspects are put under surveillance and interviews are conducted.  Robin spends a lot of time online playing the game as a means of getting information. 

My problems with the novel are the same I had with the previous two books in the series:  “This is a lengthy book with lots of twists and turns and red herrings.  The plot is so complex with so many details that the reader will be at a loss to tie together all the information into a coherent whole” and “There are some predictable elements.  . . .  the women with whom Strike has liaisons cause problems for Strike and confusion for Robin.  And there are the inevitable conversations where Strike and Robin talk at cross purposes and fail to understand each other.”

The see-saw trajectory of the relationship between the protagonists is becoming repetitive and tiresome.  Strike becomes involved with yet another woman who is obviously a stand-in for Robin, the woman he really wants.  Robin, not understanding the situation, then thinks about connecting with another man.  This book does not really advance the romance.

The novel does touch on some serious issues:  toxic fandom, misogyny in gaming, and right-wing extremism.  But it’s much too long.  Some judicious editing would have been helpful.

Review of THE MUSIC OF BEES by Eileen Garvin

 3.5 Stars

This is a charming but predictable story, set in Hood River, Oregon, about three lonely people, each struggling with loss and fears.

Alice Holtzman, 44, is a hobbyist apiarist who wants to be an orchardist but works for the county’s planning department.  Grieving the death of her husband, she seeks solace in looking after her bees.  18-year-old Jake Stevenson is a paraplegic, trying to figure out his life now that he is confined to a wheelchair.  Harry Stokes, 24, lives with a great-uncle in a dilapidated trailer.  His criminal record because of a stupid decision holds him back, as does his debilitating social anxiety.  The three are brought together and, as expected, a bond forms and they are able to overcome fears and sorrow and work towards fulfilling new dreams.

Though of different ages, the three share similarities.  They have all been damaged physically and/or emotionally.  Each is a loner, though sometimes more by choice.  Life has not worked out as they hoped so they feel adrift and lack a sense of belonging and stability.  By the end of the novel, all have experienced some personal growth:  overcome fears, move away from self-imposed isolation, and start over with new dreams to pursue. 

Included in the narrative is social and political commentary.  Pesticide usage is criticized because of its role in the decimation of bees that are crucial in pollination.  The plight of Mexican migrant workers and immigrants is briefly addressed.  In addition, each chapter begins with information about bees in the form of quotations from the writing of L. L. Langstroth, an apiarist often considered the father of American beekeeping.

The book also explores families.  The message is that chosen families, formed outside traditional family structures, can sometimes be more nurturing and supportive.  Jake’s biological father, for instance, provides no encouragement to his son.  It is the bond formed by the trio that helps all of them to find the courage to move on. 

This book is a comfortable, comforting read.  I knew from the beginning that the three would prevail over obstacles, none of which are life-threatening.  Solutions are obvious.  In their working together for the good of the whole, the bees serve as a metaphor for what the three need to do:  rely on each other and work together.  Sometimes problems are solved rather easily.  Just as Alice’s financial concerns are removed, Harry has no worries about the $500 he needs.   Secondary characters appear at convenient times to take care of issues.  The happy ending is predictable. 

This is not a bad novel; it’s just a lighter read than my normal fare.  I prefer something more substantial, but anyone wanting a good lighthearted read will enjoy it. 

Review of SO PRETTY by Ronnie Turner (New Release)

 4.5 Stars

Gothic fiction is not a genre I normally read, but this book offers much more than just macabre events and an atmosphere of fear. 

The novel presents the perspective of two characters, Teddy and Ada, in short, alternating chapters.  Wanting to leave his past behind, Teddy Colne arrives in the town of Rye in East Sussex.  Despite warnings from several residents to avoid an antique/curio shop, he takes a job as an assistant to its odd proprietor.  Ada, also fleeing an unhappy childhood, has lived in Rye for two years with her 4-year-old son Albie.  She has not been accepted by the community so she’s lonely.  She and Teddy meet at the shop and strike up a friendship.  All goes well for a while until an obsession becomes too difficult to resist. 

Teddy and Ada are similar in many ways.  Both have dark family histories which have left them damaged and fragile.  They have lived as outsiders, never being fully accepted, and are looking for a fresh start.  Unfortunately, both live solitary existences.  Ada is not welcomed by the townspeople:  “they saw a single mother, a poor and lonely mother, and that’s all they saw.”  She is desperate to find a friend.  Likewise, Teddy is lonely and even imagines setting a table for two:  “The food will go cold, but I can tell myself it goes cold because someone is running late and not because there is no one coming at all.”  Both are also concerned about whether they have inherited or been infected by the traits of a parent.

Two more characters are Ye Olde Antiques and Curios Shoppe and its owner Mr. Vincent.  The shop is dark and claustrophobic, crowded with shadows and gruesome objects.  When Teddy first enters, he thinks, “The shop tastes of death, of something that has turned.”  Mr. Vincent, who does not speak, is a skeletal figure who is described as having “’a rot in [him], like an infection that spreads from his body.’”  Certainly, he seems to possess a malevolent aura. 

I appreciated the complexity of the characterization.  Because characters are fully developed, readers will feel different emotions towards them.  For instance, it is impossible not to feel sympathy for Teddy.  His difficult childhood was followed by a lonely life “hounded by fanatics and lunatics.”  I hoped he’d find the normal life he so desperately wants.  At other times, the reader will be repulsed by his choices, though an understanding of his motivations tempered my negative reaction. 

I also liked the abundant foreshadowing which means that though there is some shocking behaviour, it is not entirely shocking.  There are many hints so what happens is more expected than unbelievable.  A character seems to change, but it happens gradually and only after behaviour clearly indicates that all is not well. 

The novel explores gossip and its impact.  Ada says, “’rumours are like rot here, they spread.  And then you can’t tell what’s rumour and what isn’t.’”  Both Teddy and Ada are subjects of malicious gossip.  Because Albie has a deformed ear, people speculate that Ada might have dropped him as a baby or hit him.  When Ada and Albie have not been seen for a few days, one person who doesn’t even know her says, “’Swanned off somewhere sunny, I bet.  No thought given to the boy’s stability and welfare.  The young don’t take responsibility these days.  Especially not Ada Belling.’”  And Teddy, more than once, hears his “name called out, rumours, accusations thrown into the air.” 

The novel also addresses the nature versus nurture debate:  is our behaviour dictated more by our genetics or by our environment and lived experience?  Teddy and his mother certainly worried about whether evil could be inherited.   Physical appearance and mannerisms are influenced by genetics, so how about character traits and mental disorders?  Are Teddy’s actions predetermined and so unavoidable because of his genetic makeup?  Were his upbringing and his mother’s oft-expressed concerns about Teddy being like his father influencing factors?  It cannot be doubted that the harassment he and his mother faced affected him.  Does Teddy’s time in the creepy shop with its peculiar owner influence his behaviour? 

The book doesn’t conclusively answer the nature/nurture question, but it definitely illustrates generational trauma:  “’Some people shouldn’t be parents.  They are broken, then they break their children. . . . Troubled parents make troubled children.’”  Ada has been affected by her mother’s childhood trauma, though she wasn’t aware of the nature of that trauma, and she worries about being a good mother to Albie.  Teddy’s mother suffered a breakdown because of her husband’s actions and society’s reaction.  Despite his mother’s best efforts, Teddy’s childhood was filled with severe stress because of the actions of his father and others, so he has been left feeling lonely and powerless.  This situation he is desperate to change so he resorts to using Mr. Vincent’s past against him, though that is exactly what he wants to avoid for himself.  Who knows what caused Mr. Vincent to take the action he did as a child.  Is he just “a frightened man who hides because hiding is all that is safe to him?”  Certainly, the chilling ending suggests that childhood experiences have a lasting impact. 

Despite its lyrical prose with some delightful turns of phrase, this book is not always a comfortable read because of its constant sense of foreboding.  What impressed me, however, are the book’s nuanced characterization and its deft exploration of serious issues.   I would classify this book as literary fiction with some gothic elements. 

Review of DIRT by Sarah Sultoon (New Release)

 3 Stars

Last year I read The Shot by Sarah Sultoon and was wowed, so much so that it ended up on my list of favourite books in 2022; as a result I was intrigued to read Dirt, her latest book, which is classified as a political thriller.

The novel, set in 1996, opens with the discovery of the body of Farid, an Israeli-Arab worker, in a chicken house of a kibbutz located on the border of Israel and Lebanon.  Chapters alternate between the perspectives of two characters, Lola and Jonny.  Lola is a non-Jewish volunteer who came with her best friend to work on the kibbutz.  Because she had a relationship with Farid, the discovery of his body means she will be a figure of interest in any investigation.   Jonny, a cub reporter working for the International Tribune, receives a tip about goings-on at the kibbutz with which he has a familial connection.  He arrives there and gets drawn into uncovering more than one secret at the commune. 

Apparently, the author has some personal experience with life on a kibbutz, and it is her use of that setting which captured my interest.  I know little about life on a kibbutz except what I was told by a former student who volunteered on one for a few months when he was visiting Israel.  Beit Liora is not a socialist utopia:  “Its bounty may be on full display, but the reality inside is never quite the same.”  Residents receive food and shelter, but work hard, rising with the sun.  “In a community where everyone and everything is supposed to sit on the same plane, . . . hierarchies hide in plain sight.”  Volunteers reveal only what they want about themselves so may not be what they seem.  There is heavy security with “tangles of razor wire edging almost every fence,” armed guards, and hidden cameras.  There is an intolerance of differences, and outsiders are treated with suspicion:  “In a community as tight as this, its commanders can’t afford to be seen as anything other than in complete control.”  In addition, the kibbutz has air raid shelters because of rocket attacks from Lebanon.  

For some reason, I had difficulty connecting with either of the main characters.  Revelations about Lola’s home life certainly arouse sympathy, but her behaviour is frustrating.  She is obviously desperate for affection, but her actions towards Tom and Farid make her appear fickle.  She admits to being described as gullible though she prefers to think of herself as trusting and hopeful.  But shouldn’t her painful experiences in the past have taught her to be more wary?  Like Lola, Jonny is also a lost soul damaged by his past and looking for a sense of belonging.  Though he is ambitious and determined to succeed as a journalist, he is also seeking a connection where his mother once lived.  Perhaps their fragility was too overwhelming for me?

I read this book in fits and starts while travelling and that may not have been the best approach.  Because I was not as attentive as I normally am, I kept feeling I was missing things.  Why is there a used condom in the chicken house?  It was brought to the chicken house by someone?  I can’t imagine that people had sex in the chicken house with its overwhelming odour?  I visualize when I read but I had difficulty imagining some scenes.  For instance, near the end, “all three men are thrown back down into the alley between the warehouses, landing in a tangle of limbs, sweat and earth” and then one of them (Jonny) is immediately embraced by a fourth man “so tight it chokes the air from his lungs.”  They’re embracing while lying down?  A scuffle follows “as the men all separate themselves” but the two continue in their embrace, Jonny “still clinging” to the other while the hugger keeps “his arms folded tightly around Jonny” until he “drops” Jonny?  Are these latter two standing?  There is no mention of their rising to their feet.   I found myself pausing while reading because of such gaps in the description of action.  One or two such gaps would not be an issue, but there were several which disconcerted me.

There were some elements that bothered me.  Some are just minor irritations like Jonny’s overuse of “eightieth time” and his frequent inability to see someone’s face clearly because of either the sun or shadows.  I wanted to yell at him to just move.  More seriously, I questioned the actions of one of the founding members of the kibbutz.  Since the collective has existed for almost 50 years, the founder must be older, around 70 years of age, yet he behaves as he does towards Lola?  Much is made of the “freeze setting, rather than fight or flight” as a response to a situation.  But this is a response for everyone?  Lola constantly freezes, it’s a learned behaviour for Jonny, and Tom freezes at a critical moment?  Ambiguous endings don’t bother me, but the epilogue left me confused.  Is it just to emphasize that secrets can never be fully buried? 

This book didn’t engage me as much as I hoped, but the fault may lie in how I read the book in rather a disjointed fashion.  Perhaps I need to reread it when I can be more attentive.  

Review of ALL THE COLOUR IN THE WORLD by CS Richardson (New Release)

 4 Stars

This non-traditional novel frustrated me at first, but I ended up loving it.

The novel, set in Toronto, begins with the birth of its protagonist Henry in 1916.  Henry is raised by his grandmother who for his eighth birthday gifts him a box of colouring pencils, thus beginning his passion for colour and art which eventually translates into a career as an art historian.  His love of art and the stories of the great artists also help him navigate through his life which includes struggle and tragedy.

The structure is not what one finds in most novels.  Henry’s story is interspersed with factual information, most often about colour, artists, and artistic movements.  It is best not to actually think of this book as a novel; it begins with a brief discussion of Sei Shōnagon’s Pillow Book, “a collection of anecdotes, musings about life . . . favourite quotations, poetry, lists, daily affirmations – to be for her eyes only” and a zibaldone, “an informal miscellany containing everything from landscape sketches to currency exchange rates, medicinal recipes to family trees.”  This opening explains what this book is, a personal journal of sorts which Henry keeps within an art history textbook. 

The book ends with a mention of the journals of Marcus Aurelius and their “notes and philosophical mementos intended solely for personal guidance and self-improvement . . . at times written in the second person, and vary in length from one sentence to several paragraphs.”  Leonardo da Vinci’s description of his notebooks is quoted:  “’without order, drawn from many papers, which I have copied here hoping to arrange them later, each in its place, according to the subjects of which they treat.’”  These references again remind the reader of the author’s intention.  Interestingly, the second person point of view is used in that Henry is addressed as “you.” 

The non-fiction elements, which read like anecdotes that Henry in his role as professor or art history might mention in a class, are not entirely random:  logical connections can be found.  For instance, his despair after the death of a loved one is interspersed with references to Manet’s painting entitled Le Suicidé; suffering the psychological effects of warfare, Henry thinks about van Gogh’s mental health issues; and a woman introducing herself as Pazienza has Henry thinking of Behan’s engraving entitled Patientia.  The Yann Martel quotation at the beginning (“Art is seed, art is memory, art is vaccine”) is an excellent summary of the theme of this book. 

Readers will find themselves empathizing with Henry.  He is a sensitive soul who struggles to find his way in life and who experiences more than one trauma.  His comment about 1941 is truthful foreshadowing:  “It is the last time you remember not having a worry in the world.”  I kept hoping that he would find peace and happiness. 

This book will not be for everyone.  At first, I was frustrated with the constant digressions but I was won over.  My interest in art and art history obviously influenced my reaction.  I was familiar with some of the paintings referenced but not with others, and I can see myself re-reading the book and looking at photos of the paintings.  I was reminded of my enjoyment of A History of the World in 10 ½ Chapters by Julian Barnes which includes a detailed analysis of Géricault's painting, The Raft of the Medusa.

This is not a lengthy read and a reader willing to be open-minded may be surprised by how the book will resonate. 

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

Review of BEST OF FRIENDS by Kamila Shamsie

3 Stars

I loved Kamila Shamsie’s novel Home Fire, so I was anxious to pick up her latest book.  This one is about female friendship.

The first part of the novel is set in 1988 in Karachi, Pakistan.  Two 14-year-old girls, Zahra Ali and Maryam Khan, are inseparable.  Zahra is the daughter of a cricket journalist who has become a celebrity, whereas Maryam is heiress to her family’s very successful business.  A traumatic event results in their being separated.  The second part of the novel is set in 2019 in London, England, where both Zahra and Maryam, now in their 40s, reside.  Both are high-powered women:  Zahra, divorced, is leader of a civil liberties group, and Maryam, happily married and mother to a daughter, is a venture capitalist specializing in tech companies.  Their political views are on opposite ends of the British political spectrum because Maryam supports the conservative government while Zahra is opposed to so many of its policies.  Nonetheless, they maintain their friendship built on a common past until the arrival of two men from the past threatens their bond.

In many ways, the two are polar opposites.  Zahra comes from a more humble background with less financial stability so she focuses on her studies to earn a place in a British university.  She is sensitive, bookish, and introspective.  Maryam, guaranteed to have a position in her family’s business, is spoiled and academically indifferent and has a rebellious streak.  Their different backgrounds and upbringings shape their reactions to the singular event which occurs to them as teenagers. 

The first part of the book which focuses on the adolescent girls is by far the most interesting.  Their depiction as teenagers is very realistic as they become aware of their bodies and their sexuality as well as their vulnerability as women.  They experience what Maryam calls girlfear.  The incident which they experience together and proves to be life-changing is fraught with danger.  The suspense in this section keeps readers on the edge of their seats. 

In contrast, the second part is dull and plodding.  Despite the differences between the two, there is a paucity of conflict and tension to maintain reader interest.  The plot moves slowly until a confrontation at the end.  I found it difficult to believe that the two didn’t have this face-off sooner.  Their values and interests diverge so much that a parting of ways seems inevitable.  When the two are still teenagers, Maryam says, “’We go together as far as we can’” and Zahra thinks, “A drift had begun, which would only grow as the years went on.  Deep down they both knew that on one had the kind of friendship when they were forty that the two of them had at fourteen.”  In essence, the second part of the novel shows this drifting apart, but it happens at a glacial pace. 

Actually, I had difficulty believing that the incident when they are 14 casts such a long shadow over their adult lives and friendship.  Zahra speaks of the “’shame and fear” they carried from childhood, and Maryam says the event affected the trajectory of her life.  Both contentions seem an exaggeration since neither lives with paralyzing fear and both are wildly successful.  The women respond differently when two men resurface to remind them of that past event, and their responses illustrate their personalities and upbringing.  The book offers no new insights into long-standing friendships; I would argue that it shows more about how nature and nurture influence how people react to a traumatic event. 

Readers should be warned that there is an ambiguous ending which some may not find satisfying.  Personally, I found the entire book unsatisfying.  It begins with promise but the second part is much less compelling. 

Review of PHAEDRA by Laura Shepperson (New Release)

 2.5 Stars

This is a feminist retelling of the Greek myth of Phaedra.  The daughter of King Minos and the sister of Ariadne and the Minotaur, she becomes the wife of Theseus and is taken to Athens from her home in Crete.  She becomes pregnant after being raped by her stepson Hippolytus and insists he be put on trial. 

The novel is structured like a Greek tragedy complete with three acts and a Chorus.  In this case the Chorus consists of women who have been misused and abused by men.  These are women who have no voice but gather at night to commiserate and warn others.  Of course, the Chorus also underscores theme.  At one point, the women chant, “It happened to me.  And me.  And me.  Me, too” so the reference to the #MeToo movement is obvious. 

The author admits that she re-arranged and re-invented Phaedra’s story.  In the Greek myth, Phaedra tries to seduce her stepson, and when he repulses her advances, she accuses him of raping her.  In this version, Hippolytus does rape his stepmother.  The author’s point is that “history is written by men” so women’s truths are hidden.  Here Phaedra is shown not to be the temptress the men accuse her of being but a victim of brutal sexual assault.  Even Medea makes an appearance, and though she admits to killing her children, she insists, “Everyone always focused on the killing of the children.  No one ever asked why.”  Her explanation to Phaedra suggests she acted out of love, not revenge, but men have the power and shape narratives to portray themselves as heroes and women as seductresses and sorceresses:  “any man can throw words up into the air, and it is women who must pay when those words land.”

The author wants to emphasize the sexual abuse women have suffered and how they have been silenced.  Women in mythology, like Phaedra and Medea, have been maligned when in fact they should be more correctly identified as heroines.  The problem is that the author’s approach is very heavy-handed.  Over and over again, the plight and powerlessness of women and men’s manipulation and victim blaming are shown.  No woman, from the lowliest servant to the granddaughter of two Olympian gods, is safe.  All of the men are villains, all untrustworthy and self-serving.  For me, the absolute vilification of men actually weakens the message. 

The title is supposed to suggest that Phaedra is a tragic heroine.  Unfortunately, Phaedra gets lost in the narrative.  Various points of view are presented, and Phaedra’s perspective becomes one of many.  For instance, even Medea’s maidservant is given a chapter in which she witnesses Phaedra’s rape.  It would have been much more effective to have Phaedra narrate.  Since Phaedra is only one of many narrators, the reader struggles to know her.  In addition, there is nothing to differentiate the many characters whose points of view are given:  there are no distinctive voices so everyone sounds the same. 

It is also difficult to see Phaedra as more than a naïve young girl.  Given her age, her naivety is appropriate and justified, but her continued naivety is less credible.  Some growth would have made her more admirable.  As is, it is difficult to see her as a brave heroine.  Other characters are also one-dimensional.  Hippolytus, for instance, is arrogant and obsessed with horses.  The lack of depth in the portrayal of characters is a definite weakness.

In fact, most elements have a lack of depth.  There is little world building; all we know is that the palace in Athens suffers in comparison with the palace in Crete.  Instead there is much needless repetition.  How often must we be told that the table placed in Phaedra’s room is too large?  Why is there so much focus on the chiton she wears on each occasion? 

This book is a disappointment.  Though the theme is noteworthy, the writing style is uninspired.  The lack of psychological depth and inclusion of irrelevant perspectives are particular problems.  It’s another case of good intentions but poor execution. 

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

Review of THE BIG CHILL by Doug Johnstone

 4 Stars

I met the three Skelf women (operating an Edinburgh funeral home and private investigations business) late last year in A Dark Matter; having enjoyed making their acquaintance, I returned for a second visit.  Reading The Big Chill was indeed like revisiting people with whom I’d like to establish friendships.

This novel begins six months after the events of A Dark Matter.  The women are certainly dealing with the fallout from events described in the first book of the series.  In addition, there are new cases which require their attention.

Dorothy, the 70-year-old matriarch, has a close call when a car crashes into the open grave at a funeral she is overseeing.  The driver dies but there is no identification, so she sets out to learn his identity and story.  One of her music students then goes missing; though her mother does not seem overly concerned, Dorothy is intent on finding Abi.  Jenny, Dorothy’s 40-year-old daughter, is trying to move on after the arrest of Craig, her ex-husband, and has tentatively embarked on a relationship with Liam whom she met while conducting an investigation on behalf of his wife.  Unfortunately Craig’s machinations leave her little respite.  And Hannah, Jenny’s 20-year-old daughter, is befriended by an elderly professor whose sudden death has her investigating.

All of these plotlines could result in confusion, but that is not the case.  Short, punchy chapters alternating among the three women keep the plot moving apace, but it’s never difficult to remember the various cases.  Unlike television detective shows, not all cases are definitively solved:  “On TV dramas everything gets tied up, they catch the killer and get resolution.  . . . If only.”  Certainly the major storyline introduced in A Dark Matter will continue into the third book of the series though, unfortunately, it is the twists in this plot that are not always totally credible.

A major theme is the importance of a supportive family, and “how we all need someone to rely on” – an idea introduced in the first book.  Dorothy tells Indy, Hannah’s partner, that she is part of the Skelf family:  “’We’re here for each other.  That what gets us through.’”  Indy repeats this to Hannah:  “’Your gran said something recently.  We’re a family.  We need to be here for each other, support one another.’”  Of course, asking for support or giving it is not always easy.  Jenny, for instance, has difficulty asking for the support she needs to help her cope, and Hannah looks to Indy for support but needs to be reminded to reciprocate.  The novel also shows what happens when family is not supportive or when a family member is well-intentioned but not helpful in the best way.

As in the previous book, I enjoyed the characters’ reflections on life:  “It’s easy to be moral if those morals aren’t tested” and “Words have meaning . . . but they’re so inadequate, and we each have a lifetime of hang-ups and quirks that feed into how we speak” and “reason was overrated, we do things because we’re compelled.  . . . we’re not so evolved from animals in the dirt, even if we like to think we are” and “We’re all a mystery to others and ourselves” and “Maybe life is just chasing shadows, following leads, trying to find answers.”  There is comfort in reading such reflections the reader has probably had.  These women are like all of us, “putting one foot in front of the other, trying to carve out some peace amongst the mayhem and madness, secrets and lies, violence and pain.”

It will not be long before I once again visit with these women whom one character accurately describes as “’the strongest women I’ve ever met.  If anyone can handle things, it’s the Skelfs.’”  And this strength is a good thing because it’s obvious that at the end of The Big Chill, they are having only “a moment of quiet before the next piece of shit [comes] flying at them.” 

Review of THE WRONG MAN by Christine D. LeBlanc

 3.5 Stars

This book review is a first for me; I’ve previously reviewed books written by friends and colleagues, but this is my first review of a book written by a former student.  (The author took two senior English classes with me about 30 years ago.) 

I’ve recently read a number of serious and very lengthy novels so I was looking for something lighter and shorter; this one fit the bill. 

Macy Carruthers sets out to help an old family friend when he is being blackmailed over an event which took place decades earlier, in 1950.  Coming to Vaughn’s aid means making contact with family from whom she has maintained a distance, especially her brother Derek and his criminal past.  She also has to enlist the help of Joshua, Derek’s best friend and her high school boyfriend.  And then their secretive friend Thomas becomes involved, a man to whom Macy is attracted though she is reluctant to trust him. 

The book is an amalgam of genres.  There’s mystery, though I found there was not much tension as the investigation proceeds slowly.  Some elements are predictable; astute readers will certainly not be astonished by the reveal at the end.  The romance tends to take precedence, and more than one romance trope makes an appearance. 

It is the family drama that I found most interesting.  Macy wants to escape her past and her family’s discreditable history; she finds security clearance background checks for employment opportunities are problematic “as her name often came up as a witness or alibi or next of kin in other people’s records.”  She “turned away in shame” from her family, “ran off to university and didn’t look back.”  She has kept her distance from her brother, though she remembers good times with him from her childhood.  In fact, she followed him everywhere.  Derek, on the other hand, has been hurt by her abandonment though his pride in his smart, hard-working sister is noticed by Thomas.   

The characterization of Macy also impresses.  She is complicated and flawed; in other words, she is realistic.  Her façade suggests a strong, confident, independent woman, but she has many fears and insecurities.  For instance, she has a “fear of never escaping her old life, of never being good enough.”  She wants a life “in which she was untouchable, bulletproof” but in the process has found herself feeling empty.  I love dynamic characters, and Macy does experience some growth. 

I also appreciated the touches of humour.  There are throwaway lines like the one about the important role of dentists in romances.  And there is a scene bordering on slapstick where a baseball nearly hits one person in the face, another is “socked in the stomach,” and a third lands “with a thud on her butt.” 

This is a refreshing read, light and breezy with no aura of pretentiousness.  It’s exactly what I needed after some hefty books whose sheer size aggravated my arthritis.  Anyone wanting an entertaining book which also has some depth should pick up this one.  It’s certain to brighten up a dark, winter night.