Review of HEAT WAVE by Maureen Jennings

 3 Stars

The novel is set in 1936 in Toronto during a heat wave.  The first of the Paradise Mystery series, it introduces Charlotte Frayne, a junior private investigator working for Thaddeus Gilmore. 

The book opens with Mr. Gilmore receiving a letter calling him a “filthy Commie Jew” and an implicit death threat.  Shortly afterwards his wife Ida is attacked in their home and Mr. Gilmore becomes the main suspect.  Charlotte sets out to prove his innocence.  At the same time, she is hired by Hilliard Taylor, one of the owners of the Paradise Café, to investigate why money is going missing.  She goes undercover as a waitress to determine who is responsible for the thefts.

Charlotte is the narrator.  She is very much a modern woman placed in a historical setting.  She is loyal, independent, determined, compassionate, and eager to prove herself in a man’s world.  Sometimes she comes across as too-good-to-be-true, a heroine coming to everyone’s rescue, even an overheated horse.  The café owners are so impressed by her ability to solve their case when, in fact, a direct conversation amongst the owners would have solved the mystery. 

I found the plotting so obvious, with several problematic elements.  To find her boss’s home address, Charlotte opens the safe, instead of going directly to the city directory?  This is just a clumsy device for her to find an important document.  For someone who is a private investigator and so should know better, Mr. Gilmore behaves in ways that do not help his situation.  Why would the woman who discovers Ida not use the Gilmore’s telephone and instead go to a neighbour?  Chapters 4 – 6 have Charlotte talking to all the neighbours of the Gilmores; it seems a tactic to confuse the reader when in fact the guilty party is immediately obvious when first introduced.  The entire Paradise Café case is a flimsy device to involve Charlotte; it could have been solved after one conversation amongst the four owners of the café.  Why would a safe combination be kept where anyone could see it?  Surely most people can memorize a simple combination!  Again, this is just a device to unnecessarily complicate the case.  Detective Jack Murdoch seems so willing to enlist the help of a civilian?  It the sight of a uniform bothers a witness, why not send a policewoman in plain clothes to question that person instead of a civilian?  How does the attacker know Mr. Gilmore’s secret? 

The plot is slow with little intrigue or suspense.  Instead, unnecessary elements seem to be added to distract the reader.  For instance, the relationship between Charlotte’s grandfather and his femme fatale neighbour seems totally unnecessary.  And it is resolved so quickly and easily.  The suggestion of a romance for Charlotte is just annoying – again unnecessary.  Why does there always have to be an ineffectual policeman with a stupid theory? 

I did appreciate the historical aspects.  The book touches on anti-Semitism and the fear of Communism, as well as the difficulties experienced by people because of the Depression.  Certainly, the author has researched Toronto and has used that research well to detail locations within the city. 

This book will undoubtedly appeal to fans of the Murdoch Mysteries whether in book form or on television.  I find them much too obvious, preferring mysteries that are more subtle and challenging.  I’d recommend the book for someone looking for a light, easy read in the vein of the Lane Winslow series by Iona Whishaw. 

Review of THE ADVERSARY by Michael Crummey (New Release)

 4.5 Stars

I always look forward to a new book from Michael Crummey.  And again I have not been disappointed; this one, like his others, is a compulsive read.

Abe Strapp and Widow Caines are the owners of the largest mercantile firms in the isolated outport of Mockbeggar in northern Newfoundland.  They fight for dominance in the North Atlantic fishery.  They despise each other:  “They each saw in the other the antithesis and obstacle of all they valued and wanted from the world.”  Their machinations end up drawing in everyone into their endless feud because “Abe Strapp and the Widow Caines viewed the world as a glass to their own visage and nothing within their sight was granted a life independent.  Every creature beyond themselves existed only to serve their designs and appetites.” 

At a funeral, the officiant warns that “’Strife . . . begets strife.  In the death of this innocent, God implores us to lay aside wrath and malice and revenge and to put on the bowels of compassion one toward another.  Otherwise we are lost.’”  From the beginning it is obvious that neither of the two is able to take this advice so tragedy is certain to follow.  It is just a matter of time so as I read I found myself dreading what would happen to more innocents. 

Though Abe and the Widow are enemies, they are equally unlikeable and very similar.  Abe is a truly vile man; some of his actions left me stunned in horror.  Even his father recognizes his son’s “pernicious appetites, his vanity, his incurious scorn.”  He never takes responsibility for his actions, instead spending his time listing “many grievances . . . and the larger forces at work in the world to keep him from the heights he felt himself heir to.”  He is very proud and his pride is easily injured; when it is, he will take revenge.  Whether a person is guilty or innocent matters not.  He has a “relish for the world’s puerile and transient pleasures.”  In the course of the novel, he is shown guilty of all the seven deadly sins:  pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, and sloth. 

Widow Caines is more subtle, “quicksilver and inscrutable, impossible to pin down and herd.” One man describes her as possessing “the Dark One’s cunning and subtlety.”  She wears her father’s suit whenever in public and she is described as possessing a “masculine arrogance”; people believe “something essential to a woman’s station was lacking in her.”  She states, however, that she doesn’t want to be like a man; she just wishes she had their choices and options not available to her as a woman:  she has “a disgust for the circumstances she was born into, for the cockeyed rules that governed the world’s standards and proceedings and transactions, setting one thing over another against all sensible measure.”  She, like Abe, is consumed with getting what she wants regardless of the consequences to anyone else:  “A curt, self-satisfied dismissal of everything but her own way in the world, a willingness to follow that light into whatever darkness might come to meet it.”  She is a consummate manipulator, taking advantage of people:  “It was his goodness she’d been drawn to from the beginning, his incorruptible decency.  His loneliness.  Things she felt she might some day leverage to her own ends.” 

Three times, the Widow is described as someone who would eat her own children.  By the end of the book, I was convinced of this assertion.  The same would apply to Abe.  The book blurb states that the novel is about “the corruption of power and the power of corruption.”  That is indeed a focus.  So many good people suffer because of the actions of those in power.  My sympathy was for those who are unwitting pawns used in the power games played by Abe and the Widow and their enablers, enablers who are often also in love with power and are corrupted by it.   

This book captured my attention from the beginning and never lost it.  Storms, disease, and hunger plague the residents of Mockbeggar.  There is danger also from marauding privateers.  And then there is the suspense about what the merciless adversaries will do next and who will suffer as a consequence.  There are some surprise twists, but what is not a shock is that the good and innocent are the ones most affected.  (Readers of Crummey’s novel The Innocents will recognize the references to the Best orphans.)

There is so much to dissect in this novel; for instance, an entire essay could be written about the author’s word choices.  This is a book that will definitely go on my To Re-Read pile!

Note:  I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.

Review of ATLAS: THE STORY OF PA SALT by Lucinda Riley/Harry Whittaker

3 Stars

Because I invested countless hours listening to the first seven books of The Seven Sisters series, I decided to listen to this last one, the one that addresses the unanswered questions from the previous books. 

As the daughters of Pa Salt gather for a memorial for their father who died one year earlier, they finally learn the story of their enigmatic father.  They learn about his remarkable life, shaped by the help of many strangers, the love of Elle, and the threat of Kreeg Eszu.  Each daughter also learns how she came to be part of Pa Salt’s family. 

This book is not for those who have not read the previous books.  There are so many characters and intertwining storylines that someone not familiar with the daughters’ stories would be lost.  As is, even readers who have read all the books may find themselves struggling at times to remember who is who.

I listened to the book to learn if my suspicions and theories were correct, and there is certainly an effort to explain everything.  Unfortunately, like the previous books, the plot becomes predictable.  We know exactly where Atlas has to travel and whom he has to meet.  Some of the explanations, however, don’t ring true.  Kreeg’s motivation is especially weak, especially given what he knows about his mother’s actions.  This is a major problem since Kreeg is Atlas’s nemesis and responsible for Atlas’s travels.  The motivation for Atlas’s final plan – to protect his daughters – is likewise weak.

The book is plagued with the same weaknesses as the other books.  There are so many unrealistic events and coincidences.  A young boy manages to trek alone from Russia to France?  Atlas is supposedly such an intelligent man, yet he doesn’t notice the clues given to him about Elle’s disappearance?  Kreeg manages to find Atlas in different parts of Europe?  Zed makes a so-convenient appearance at Atlantis?    

And there are the other issues:  stilted dialogue that is anything but natural; the portrayal of so many too-good-to-be-true characters; the overly sentimental and too-perfect ending; and the endless, and very contrived, use of Greek mythology.  Kreeg Eszu (an anagram for Greek Zeus) has parents whose names were Kronos and Rhea – hardly Prussian names?!   Atlas’s parents are Lapetus and Clymene – in keeping with Greek mythology but certainly not likely names chosen by Swiss people.  Trying too hard to provide mythological parallels doesn’t work.

Like the other books, this one is overly lengthy.  I did like the backstories for some of the minor characters, but there is a great deal of needless repetition.  Well, the series is done, and I’m glad to put it to rest. 

Review of REMARKABLY BRIGHT CREATURES by Shelby Van Pelt

 3 Stars

If you are looking for a light, simple read with a predictably happy ending, this book is for you.

Seventy-year-old Tova Sullivan works as a nighttime cleaner at a small aquarium near Puget Sound in Washington State.  Recently widowed, she likes to keep busy:  “She understands what it means to never be able to stop moving, lest you find yourself unable to breathe.”  She has never fully recovered from the loss of her 18-year-old son Erik over three decades earlier.  At the aquarium, she establishes a relationship with Marcellus, a giant Pacific octopus who is approaching the end of his life.  She also meets Cameron, a feckless man who has come north from California looking for his father. 

Some of the chapters are narrated by Marcellus, and these are the most interesting.  I know that octopuses are ranked as the most intelligent invertebrates, but Marcellus is truly exceptional, so the reader needs to suspend disbelief.  He even possesses emotional intelligence.  He is a curmudgeon who has a high opinion of himself but not of humans.  I loved his comments on humans whom he calls “dull and blundering.”  I would have preferred more chapters from his point of view.

The character who is most irritating is Cameron.  He is thirty years old, but behaves like a whiny, selfish teenager who blames others, never taking personal responsibility for his actions.  He is supposed to be intelligent but this claim is never supported by his actions.  Even though he has been shown the meaning of an inscription on one school ring, he misconstrues the engraving on another?  When searching for a wealthy, rather famous, man, he never conducts an internet search or uses social media?

On the other hand, Tova is a totally likeable character with whom the reader cannot but empathize.  She has had so much loss in her life, and now she is growing old alone.  The death of her son has scarred her; the conclusion that he committed suicide only adds to her grief.  Despite her suffering, she is kind to everyone she meets.

The plot is predictable.  Marcellus actually figures out how Tova and Cameron’s stories intertwine.  The interest lies in how the cephalopod can help them see what seems so obvious to him.  It does take a while so there are times the reader may find him/herself agreeing with Marcellus’s low opinion of human intelligence.

The book’s message seems to be the importance of making meaningful connections.  Opening up one’s mind and heart to others (whether a cat, an octopus, or another human) can only enrich one’s life. 

This is not a literary masterpiece, but an enjoyable piece of escapist fiction.  Though a bit too sweet and sentimental, it is charming and warm-hearted, a feel-good story. 

Review of EVERYTHING THERE IS by M. G. Vassanji (New Release)

 4 Stars

The novel begins in 1971.  Nurul Islam is a world-renowned physicist from Pakistan living and working in London.  He is happily married to Sakina Begum with whom he has three children.  His life changes when he travels to the U.S. to give a lecture at Harvard.  He meets Hilary Chase, a graduate student, and falls in love.  But it is not just this new relationship that threatens his world.  He is accused of plagiarism.  Then his comments about the nature of physics and God attract the attention and ire of fundamentalist Muslims.  And he makes enemies of Pakistani government and military leaders because of his opposition to the development of a nuclear bomb.  This is the story of a man facing forces that threaten all that he has worked to achieve.

This is very much a character study of a man who “resolved to be as good and devout a man as he could” but is definitely flawed.  He comes “from a backward place called Pirmai in Pakistan” but because of his intelligence and hard work, achieves great success.  When he “got the best matriculation result ever in the whole of Punjab,” his entire community celebrates.  He becomes in fact the pride of his nation and becomes accustomed to adulation:  “Young people from South Asia normally came in his presence to touch his feet, out of gratitude and respect.”  Even his name which means Light of Islam proclaims his specialness. 

It is not surprising that the word pride appears a dozen times; arrogance is also repeated.  Certainly, he behaves arrogantly at times; he is often dismissive of students, touting his accomplishments versus theirs at the same age.  Sakina warns him, “’Too much thinking about these matters is not good.  It is pride itself.’”  Nurul understands she is warning him about being like Azazel, considered to be amongst the nearest to God’s throne, but because he sinned through pride, he became a devil.  Nurul does question whether he was “simply callous and greedy for glory” and he tells his father, “’Life at the top of . . . one’s field . . . causes a lot of uncertainty and competitiveness – hassad.  There is a word in English, hubris- . . . It means a certain kind of pride, a feeling of infallibility . . . I sometimes think I have it.’”    Even his wife mentions his arrogance in believing that “’Nothing could happen to him.’”  Nurul certainly pays a high price for his thinking he is somehow above others and untouchable.

It is impossible, however, not to feel sympathy for Nurul.  He has been gifted from childhood but “’a gift is also a burden – of responsibility.’”  He admits, “He could not forget, of course, that he was the only living Muslim scientist of note.  That was a matter of pride but also a burden.”  He would like the Nobel Prize for himself “but the Nobel was one gift he could give to his mother and father, to his country, and of course to his small beleaguered Shirazi sect.”  He is insecure; he has a dream which he describes as terrifying where eminent scientists laugh at him and he wakes up with the fear that he’s not one of the best.  He worries that at forty he is getting old and losing his mental agility so it’s too late to make any significant discoveries. 

A character who particularly interested me is Sakina.  She had no choice in marrying Nurul; theirs was an arranged marriage.  She is unschooled, “removed from school after grade six,” and then Nurul brings her to England where she has to learn the language and culture.  She admits to herself that “she would have preferred a simpler, less gifted man; that would have been better for them both.  And with a large family around her, in surroundings she knew well, she would not have been lonely.  She would have had no apprehension about talking to people, speaking like the others, dressing like them.”  And she is definitely lonely:  “She had no one to talk to, to express . . .  anxieties.  Here in London you dared not show any cracks in your exterior.”  Then when she returns to visit Pakistan, she is “treated as an honoured and fortunate guest, an ‘England-returned,’ who lived well . . . what concerns could she have?”  She feels a “’faariner.’  Pardesi.  Everywhere.” 

Of course, she is not the only one who is different.  Nurul “was different in every way:  an Asian Muslim in a white country, a devout Muslim scientist among mostly atheist or agnostic colleagues of Jewish and Christian backgrounds, a persecuted minority in his own country.”  And then there’s Hilary, one of the few women scientists.

This is not a plot-driven novel.  The story also unfolds slowly.  But those who love a novel of character will love this one.  I certainly did.  And that closing sentence is absolutely perfect!

Note:  I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.

Review of GIN, TURPENTINE, PENNYROYAL, RUE by Christine Higdon (New Release)

 4 Stars

In 2018, I read Christine Higdon’s debut novel, The Very Marrow of Our Bones (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2018/04/review-of-very-marrow-of-our-bones-by.html).  Because I really liked it, I looked forward to reading her sophomore book.  I enjoyed it very much.

The book focuses on the lives of the four McKenzie sisters living in Vancouver in 1922.  Georgina, the eldest, is married to Victor, a man who provides her financial security but does not make her happy.  Morag is happily married and newly pregnant; her husband Llewellyn is a policeman who is also a rum-runner.  Isla is secretly in love with Llewellyn; finding herself pregnant, she has a back-street abortion that nearly results in her death.  Harriet-Jean, the youngest, is confused because of her feelings for another woman, Flore Rozema.  The family also includes Ahmie, the women’s mother who is addicted to laudanum, and Rue, a beagle rescued by Harriet.

I loved how there is no difficulty differentiating the sisters.  Each emerges as a distinct character.  Georgina yearns for more - opportunities that her working class family could not provide.  Morag is blissfully happy, while Isla, though she is seen as “opinionated and fearless, and defiant,” has regret as a constant companion.  Harriet-Jean struggles with her feelings for a woman in a world where homophobic violence is common.  I found myself empathizing with each woman.  For instance, Georgina may be “imperious . . . so rarely soft, so rarely amiable,” but her back story cannot but move the reader.  Even Ahmie who is an ineffectual mother deserves sympathy for all that she has endured. 

The novel is excellent at describing the realities of life in the 1920s, especially for women.  It is men who decide what a woman can and cannot do.  Life for a pregnant, married woman is untenable:  “’A child out of wedlock is a prison sentence for a woman.  And not only that, she’d be a victim of society’s disapprobation for the rest of her life.’”  Flore describes Isla’s life if she’d had the baby:  she’d “’be seen as a fallen woman.  By virtually every human being whose feet trod this earth.  Lose her job.  Be sneered at and judged by even the shortest pillars of society.  The self-righteous, the hypocritical.’”  Since abortion is illegal, women turn to “’Gin.  Turpentine.  Pennyroyal.  Rue. . . . Hat pin.  Crochet hook.  Knitting needle.  Bicycle spoke.’” 

But it is not just the harsh realities of women’s lives that are depicted.  A man is badly beaten because he is a homosexual.  Georgina’s husband rails against “the tide of Oriental immigration.”  Disparaging comments are made about other immigrants such as Italians.  Wealthy women gather to “bemoan the plight of the poor.  Debate the causes of poverty (laziness, uncleanliness, lack of faith, undesirable hereditary traits, too much drink).”  Men lose their lives in war and to the pandemic and leave shattered families. 

Though set one hundred years in the past, the book is so relevant to the present.  The reversal of abortion laws in the U.S. may mean women must once again turn to dangerous ways of ending unwanted pregnancies.  Intolerance toward gay and Trans people seems to be increasing.  Drug addiction, demonization of immigrants, and police corruption continue to be problems.   Isla wonders “How different will life be for . . . children who arrived in the world nearly a generation after my sisters and me?”  The answer is not positive. 

The book is narrated from the perspective of various characters.  The most unusual is that of Rue.  I enjoyed his comments about the humans he encounters.  He provides comic relief, though the humour is sometimes dark.  For instance, when he hears about shell shock, he says, “I paid careful attention to where I placed my feet when walking with Rasia on the shell-strewn beaches near our abode, lest I be shocked.”

I love the author’s figures of speech.  A dull and disappointing man is “a tire puncture on one’s bicycle the morning of a planned excursion, an empty jelly jar.”  A confused man standing in a doorway is “lost as Franklin was, there in his own frozen Northwest Passage.”

The book examines a number of serious and important issues (search for love and justice and acceptance and equality and identity, sexual orientation, corruption, addiction, reproductive rights) but in a manner that engages the reader with both heart-warming and heart-breaking episodes. 

It’s been five years since I read The Very Marrow of Our Bones, but I may have to re-read it.  I remember that there’s a character named Aloysius McFee in that novel.  Could he be the same Aloysius McFee from this novel?  I will certainly be recommending Gin, Turpentine, Pennyroyal, Rue and then suggesting that readers who have not already done so might want to read The Very Marrow of Our Bones afterwards.

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

Review of ONE by Eve Smith

4 Stars

This speculative thriller, set in the near future, is narrated by 25-year-old Kai Houghton.  As a “baby reaper” working for the Ministry of Population and Family Planning in the U.K., her job is to enforce the one-child policy enacted by the government.

Kai wholeheartedly believes in the policy and is dedicated to her job until she learns that she has an illegal sister.  To protect her parents from severe penalties for breaking the law, she secretly investigates, hoping no one will learn the truth.  Her investigation leads her to Senka who tries to convince her that the government has perpetrated a series of crimes.  Kai is left uncertain as to whom she can believe and trust. 

The reader’s first impression of Kai is not a positive one.  She is totally committed to the one-child policy which she believes was instated because of dwindling resources due to unchecked climate change.  She carries out her duties in a zealous manner and seems to have little compassion.  When her beliefs are challenged, she is skeptical at first and requires proof of allegations.  She has to fight her indoctrination; Senka tells her, “’It’s hard for you to recognize deceit, because it’s all you’ve ever known.’”  But some shocking revelations and seeing evidence for herself gradually change her so she is more accepting and compassionate.  I appreciated that, in keeping with the criteria for a convincing character change, Kai has sufficient motivation to question:  her change is gradual.

Good speculative fiction is solidly based in fact and that is certainly the case with this novel.  Much of what happens has already happened.  As I write this review, forest fires rage across Canada, and different parts of the world have experienced other climate change disasters like floods and famine.  One-child policies were adopted by China in the past.  Perusal of a newspaper will reveal references to fake news and state-sponsored propaganda, demonization of immigrants, mistreatment of illegal migrants, disparity between rich and poor, increasingly totalitarian governments, and women losing autonomy over their bodies – all of which are mentioned in the novel.  A major discovery towards the end of the novel made me think of discoveries made in Canada in recent years. 

I read this novel in just a couple of sittings.  There is lots of suspense.  Because there are quotas for energy use, food, and travel, people’s activities are constantly being monitored – think George Orwell’s 1984.  It is not improbable, therefore, that her secret investigation will be uncovered by superiors.  Will she be able to save her parents from a sentence that “’can be indefinite’”?  There are several surprise twists to keep the reader’s interest, and short chapters add to the novel’s fast pace.  Only one event, one involving Mpho, seems too much of a coincidence. 

Though the book is speculative fiction, it is disturbingly plausible.  It will not leave the reader unaffected. 

Review of RAGE THE NIGHT by Donna Morrissey (New Release)

 4 Stars

I’ve read and loved all of Donna Morrissey’s novels.  She is one of my favourite Canadian authors, and this, her latest book, only adds to my regard for her writing. 

It is 1914 in Newfoundland.  Twenty-year-old Roan is an orphan who has been raised and educated by Dr. Wilfred Grenfell, the renowned Newfoundland medical missionary.  A nurse’s deathbed confession has Roan discovering that his father may still be alive, so he sets out to discover the identity of that father and the truth behind his mother’s death.  He travels by dog sled from St. Anthony to Deer Lake and then takes a train to St. John’s.  Believing he has found his father, he follows him onto the SS Newfoundland, a ship heading to the sealing grounds for the spring hunt. 

I didn’t know about the history of the Newfoundland, one of the worse marine disasters in Newfoundland history, but as soon as Roan joins the sealers on the ship, I suspected there would be a tragedy.  I’ve read enough about the seal hunt to know of its dangers.  The conditions are not favourable as the Newfoundland keeps getting trapped in ice so the captain and the sealers are more and more desperate to find seals; the decision to have the men walk for hours to reach a herd just ramps up the suspense. 

The seal hunt is controversial, but it has been part of Newfoundland’s culture for generations.  Regardless of one’s position on the hunt, a reader will feel empathy for the sealers.  For them, the hunt means making some money to feed themselves and their families.  The living conditions on the ship are miserable; food is very basic and there’s not much of it.  Once the hunt begins, the dangers increase.  The men need to earn money and it is desperation that drives the men onto shifting ice. 

I love novels with a dynamic character and this one has Roan.  At the beginning, Roan loves solitude:  “Quiet.  He loved quiet.  Loved how it settled around him without shadow.”  He even tells a young woman he encounters that “We are best alone, Ila, we are best alone” and believes that “She will learn, as he has, not to fear aloneness.  She will learn that it is in solitude where one finds one’s courage.”  As a young boy, Roan was sent to a boarding school in Boston where he was an outcast because he was considered an orphan from the backwoods, but on the ship he is accepted by the men and bonds with them.  He learns that “our pathways through life are equally shaped by the others who sail with us” and realizes that he gathers courage “from living these past days among a brotherhood that breeds such courage out of misery that all things seem possible.”

Roan has other lessons to learn as well:  patience and humility.  The ship’s captain, for instance, is described as proud and one of the sealers says “’Men does strange things when they got that drivin ‘em.’”  Roan comes to recognize “his own naked pride” and acknowledges the presence of “his old pal vanity.”   Watching the sealers help and support each other, he becomes more compassionate and realizes the truth of Dr. Grenfell’s words that “What we give to others is the rent we pay for our room on this earth.”  Roan does uncover the truth of his birth, but it’s the other lessons that more profoundly affect his behaviour. 

Characterization in the novel is excellent.  Characters are flawed like real human beings:  keeping secrets, telling lies to themselves and others, and falling subject to misunderstandings.  Though there are few women, they are memorable.  Ila, though the same age as Roan, seems so much more mature, probably because of her life experiences.  But the most authentic for me are the sealers.  They speak in distinctive Newfoundland accents which I love, but it’s their supportive fellowship, resilience, and humour that stand out.  Even when miserable, they break out into song to bolster morale.  They watch out for and help each other.  They share equally what little they have, unlike captains who keep the best food for himself and unlike Roan who in the past succumbed to the “greed of hunger.”    

There is so much to recommend this novel:  a suspenseful plot, authentic characters, lots of local colour, lyrical descriptions, and thematic depth – all things I’ve found in all of Donna Morrissey’s novels.

Note:  I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.