Review of ABSOLUTION by Alice McDermott (New Release)

 4 Stars

This novel focuses on two women and the time they spent in Saigon in 1963 at the dawn of the Vietnam War.  The young, shy, and insecure Patricia is newly married to Peter, “a civilian advisor.”  She desperately wants a family but in the meantime is focused on being a helpmeet for her husband.  Charlene is her foil:  a mother of three and a confident, take-charge dynamo, she manipulates Patricia into helping with her many charity projects which prove to be well-meaning but misguided. 

Patricia is exactly the type of wife society expected at that time.  She is loyal and dutiful, focused on catering to Peter’s needs.  Though educated, she does little of consequence:  writing letters, shopping, attending lectures and cocktail parties, taking afternoon naps, and making herself pretty for her husband.  Certainly the verb obey was part of her marriage vows; Charlene points out that Patricia won’t go to church without her husband’s permission.  She asks few questions and, in fact, doesn’t even know exactly what Peter’s job is. 

What stands out about Patricia is her naivety and trust in her husband.  She encounters a young girl in agony with burns, but only years later makes the connection between her odd burns and the use of napalm.  There’s a very revealing comment she makes at one point, talking both about her Catholic faith and American support for a Catholic regime in Vietnam:  “our sense that we were a part of the one true faith was pretty solid in those days.  Or maybe I should say that mine was solid because I so trusted my husband to be right.”  Of course, she is not the only naïve one:  “Whatever mention these women made of the days they’d all spent as dependents in Vietnam was usually of the little did we know sort.”

Charlene, on the other hand, is the spunky rebel.  Obviously intelligent and ambitious but with no career into which she could channel her energy, she devotes herself to helping the Vietnamese: she raises money to distribute gifts to hospitals and even visits a leper colony.  Patricia thinks that the term “’white savior’” is an apt description of Charlene.  She wants to do something “’to stand against that very little evil – that impulse to turn away.’”  The problem is that Charlene’s altruistic ventures are not well thought out.  She just plows ahead without giving consideration to what the people really need or want.  Certainly, she never asks.

Her altruism is suspect.  The reader will remember what Patricia is told by a friend’s aunt:  “’self-sacrifice is never really selfless.  It’s often quite selfish.’”  So it’s logical to wonder whether Charlene is doing good deeds to really help people or to help herself.  Is she trying to repair the world or mend herself?  Certainly, her ego and status get a boost from her acts.  Because of her position and lifestyle, certainly a contrast to that of the Vietnamese, does she feel an obligation to help or is she trying to assuage some sense of guilt?  Her polar opposite is Dominic, especially when the reader learns about his son Jamie.

She has no difficulty using people for her schemes; for instance, she sees a maid’s skills as a seamstress and immediately coerces her into sewing áo dái, Vietnamese tunics, to dress Barbies.  The maid, whose name is Ly but Charlene always calls Lily, is never asked what she thinks of this idea of Saigon Barbies or if she wants to help.  And Charlene’s plan to encourage Americans to adopt Vietnamese children is as morally questionable as Canada’s Sixties Scoop involving Indigenous children.

Patricia does experience some personal growth.  At the end of her sojourn in Saigon, she expresses anger at “everyone in my life who had considered my opinions inconsequential, who had lied to me or ignored me or manipulated me for what they considered my own benefit . . . those who’d set out to do good on my behalf.”  Peter and Charlene both treat her this way so her anger is justified, but how much more so is that of the Vietnamese people, the recipients of Charlene and Patricia’s “efforts at inconsequential good”?   

Of course, Charlene’s misguided altruism parallels the mistakes of American involvement in Vietnam.  Convinced she knows what is good for the people, she just moves ahead without consultation, just as the American government, seeing Vietnam’s reunification as a strategic and economic disaster, justified its presence with anti-communism rhetoric and downplayed protests, like the self-immolation of Buddhist monks, against the increasingly unpopular Diệm regime.  And until the end, Patricia accepts Charlene’s explanations, just as Americans accepted their government’s.

This is a complex novel which offers much for the reader to ponder:  the conflict between societal expectations and personal desires, the meaning of genuine altruism, the unintended consequences of good intentions, and a country’s need for absolution for past actions.  It would not suffer from a second reading.  My only hesitation is that I found reading it a struggle at times; the pace is slow and parts are repetitious. 

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

Review of IMPERFECT WOMEN by Araminta Hall

 3.5 Stars

This is an unconventional crime novel in that it focuses not on a police investigation but on the traits and motivations of the people in the victim’s life, especially her two best friends.

The book opens with the death of Nancy Hennessy who is found beaten to death. A call from Nancy’s husband Robert has Eleanor Meakins, one of Nancy’s best friends, having to tell him that Nancy was having an affair with a man named David, though she had been trying to end it.  Who was this lover?  Did he murder her because she tried to put a stop to their relationship?  Did Robert know about the affair and kill his wife for her unfaithfulness?  Or was it someone else who murdered Nancy?

There are three parts to the novel.  The first section, describing events immediately after the murder, is from Eleanor’s point of view.  The next section belongs to Nancy; it covers the time leading up to her death.  The third part is from the perspective of Mary Smithson, the other friend; it focuses on events about a year after the murder.   

As the title indicates, the three women are all flawed.  Eleanor is single; she runs an overseas relief organization.  She has never sustained a long-term relationship but shortly after Nancy’s death, she begins a new relationship which totally consumes her so she neglects everyone else.  She has promised to regularly check on an elderly neighbour but doesn’t do so and does nothing to help Mary who is looking after her husband whose health is more and more precarious.  Nancy is beautiful and rich and seems to have it all, but she struggles with depression.  Though her marriage seems solid, she doesn’t feel totally satisfied and happy so she looks for drama to add excitement to her life and boost her self-esteem.  Mary, a mother of three, has abandoned a promising career in academia and lets her psychologically abusive husband Howard dictate her life, though she and her children have suffered because of her passiveness.  Now Howard is ill and she spends her time catering to his needs.

One of the book’s themes is the examination of the disappointments that come with the passage of time.  Eleanor, Nancy, and Mary met in college when they were eager to succeed in their respective careers.  They spent their time sharing dreams of their bright futures.  Of course, their lives have not turned out as hoped and expected.  Eleanor is single and lonely, Mary is tied to an abusive husband, and Nancy who has never found her life satisfying is dead. 

The book also explores how difficult it is to understand another person.  Eleanor, for instance, wonders about Nancy’s behaviour:  cheating on her husband and recklessly threatening her family life.  Why did Mary ignore Howard’s many affairs and now indulge him?  In the course of the novel, many secrets are revealed.  It seems that virtually no one is totally honest with even those they love.  And then there are the many betrayals.

I found myself becoming frustrated with the women at times because they seem too self-absorbed.  Each spends so much of her time ruminating and complaining about the state of her life.  On the other hand, I did feel some sympathy for them because they all face society’s high expectations and harsh judgments at work and in their personal relationships.  The men in the novel seem not to have the same pressures and when they make mistakes seem not to suffer serious consequences. 

This book is for those who don’t mind the mystery taking a back seat to character dissection.  I listened to this as an audiobook, but it might have been better if I had actually read it.  I’m sure I missed some nuances. 

Review of LET US DESCEND by Jesmyn Ward (New Release)

 3 Stars

This is a slave narrative with strong elements of magic realism.

Arese, known as Annis by most people, is born on a rice plantation in North Carolina, the daughter of an enslaved black woman and the white plantation owner.  She is eventually sold at a slave market in New Orleans to the owner of a Louisiana sugarcane plantation.  Separated from her mother, Arese tries to find comfort and strength in the memories of her mother and the stories she was told about Mama Aza, her African warrior grandmother.  She also opens herself up to the spirit world and connects with a wind spirit who oversaw both her grandmother and her mother.  This spirit, who calls herself Aza after Arese’s grandmother, is fickle and not very helpful so Arese is uncertain about trusting her.  Arese comes to realize that the spirit world teems with spirits but they often seem more manipulative than nurturing.  

I am not fond of magic realism and its use in this novel certainly affected my enjoyment.  As the novel progresses, the spirits become more prominent.  Unfortunately, they left me confused because I was never certain of their role.  Arese does mention that Aza’s “coming, strange and new, made me forget the rope and my wounds,” but it is Arese’s mother who teaches her the most important lesson:   “’In this world, you your own weapon.’”  On the march to New Orleans, she reminds herself, “Didn’t Mama say I was my own weapon?  That I was always enough to figure a way out?”  In the end, she repeats, “I am my own weapon” and even alludes to this in her last conversation with Aza.  So do the spirits help Arese to find her inner strength and help her realize that she must trust herself and her abilities?

The novel’s pace is slow and the reader probably won’t learn anything new about the horrors of slavery.  There is not a strong storyline; it could easily be summed up in one sentence.  As a result, I had difficulty connecting with the story.  And the more time Arese spent focusing on the spirits, the more quickly I found my interest waning. 

What stands out about the book is its language which can only be described as lyrical and beautiful.  In the first chapter, Arese describes her mother as “a woman who hides a tender heart:  a woman who tells me stories in a leaf-rustling whisper, a woman who burns like a sulfur lantern as she leads me through the world’s darkness.”  On the long walk to the slave market, Arese describes her loneliness:  “My longing for my mother spreads over me in a great fishing net and tightens, so whole I can feel it from my head to my middle to my feet.”  Poetic language is even used to describe pain:  “The men and women around me struggle upright, backs curled to the downpour like armadillos.  My body is one great bruise.  I groan, roll over on my stomach and retch.  I scuttle as well as I can away from the sick, but the rope tenses, so I crouch on all fours like the others, trying to inch out of the muddy ground.  The sky bellows over us.  I bow my head to the deluge, to the pain ricocheting through me.”

For me, however, this lyrical prose is incongruous.  Describing the brutality of slavery in such beautiful words seems inappropriate.  I also want more than just gorgeous diction:  more plot and more nuanced character development.  And less magical realism. 

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

Review of THE MURMURS by Michael J. Malone

 3.5 Stars

This book is being marketed as a gothic thriller and supernatural mystery; I almost didn’t read the book because of these descriptors.  I did read it, however, and did enjoy it.  But, for reasons I will discuss later, I would not describe it as really gothic or supernatural.  

Annie Jackson discovers she has inherited a curse which has plagued the lives of several generations of women in her matrilineal lineage.  She can identify people who will soon die:  graphic, debilitating visions accompanied by otherworldly murmuring voices show and tell her how that person will meet his/her demise.  With her twin brother Lewis, she sets out to probe her past in order to “understand who she was and how this curse might impact on her ability to have any kind of normal existence.”  Her quest is complicated by the fact that she has lost all memories from before the car accident which resulted in her being injured and her mother Eleanor killed.  Nonetheless, Annie is eventually drawn back to her childhood village in the Scottish highlands where, in the past, women like her were put to death as witches. 

I felt a sense of dread from the beginning.  The reader learns how cruelly women who were seen as different were treated in the past.  Even when Annie was a child, a fundamental pastor prayed over her as if she were demonically possessed, so there is a lot of trepidation concerning Annie’s future.  She shares these fears, wondering if she will go mad and end up institutionalized like other female relatives.  Encounters with Edward Trainer, a convicted murderer, and the reappearance of people from her past just add to the sense of foreboding. 

There is a dual timeline (past and present) and multiple points of view.  Besides Annie and Lewis’s perspectives, the reader is also occasionally given those of Eleanor and Edward.  Interspersed are portions of a memoir written by Moira McLean in 1818 in which she explains the origins of the curse of the murmurs. 

I liked the relationship between the twins.  Though there is genuine love between the two, Annie and Lewis are foil characters in many ways.  Annie is confused and frightened much of the time but Lewis, who is usually calmer than the oft agitated Annie, serves as a steadying influence.  He is loyal and supportive so though Annie often doesn’t know whom she can trust, she knows she can rely on and trust her brother.  A flaw they share is a blindness to people’s true natures:  they are both deceived by others because they choose to see and believe what serves their needs rather than examine people’s motives more closely. 

What also stands out for me is the hypocrisy of religious figures who hide their true natures behind charm or charisma.  Pastor Mosley, whom Eleanor regarded with awe and reverence, is actually narrow-minded, selfish, and manipulative.  He is ever vigilant against signs of demonic possession, but he should have looked inwards for signs of evil.  Another church leader is implicated in a series of crimes.  (I found these rather unbelievable since motivation is unclear.)  In the present, there’s an internet church whose leader seems more interested in fame and financial gain than people’s spiritual well-being.  I guess the message is that evil exists in all time periods and often in those who preach against the wickedness of others. 

I’ve read others’ reviews and come across words and phrases like spooky and scary and creepy being used because of the novel’s supernatural elements.  I found the wickedness demonstrated by humans much more frightening than any that can be attributed to the supernatural.  Were magic words used to curse descendants of a certain family?  I believe betrayals and secrets can cause trauma across generations, especially to sensitive people.  Conversations with others and even an experience of my own mean that, for me, premonitions of death may be beyond our current understanding but are not malevolent.  It’s only the vividness of Annie’s premonitions that are problematic.  Having visited places like the Dachau concentration camp, where much suffering and death occurred, I’ve had emotionally intense experiences which would probably only differ in degree from what Annie experiences.   So I take exception to connotatively loaded words like gothic and supernatural to describe the novel, except in the very general sense of mysterious and inexplicable.  (Okay, I’ve stepped off my soapbox.)

With its short chapters and continual ramping up of tension and suspense, this is a compelling read.  Though some attribute its atmosphere of dread to supernatural elements, I see the book more as a horrifying portrayal of the evil humans commit because of their pride, greed, lust, and wrath. 

Review of THE OPPOSITE OF LONELY by Doug Johnstone

 4 Stars

This is the fifth installment of the highly entertaining Skelfs series.  I’ve enjoyed my previous visits with the three Skelf women and this one is no different. 

At one point, Hanna thinks “But nothing was ever simple for the Skelfs” and their funeral service/private investigator businesses, and that is certainly the case here.  Dorothy, the septuagenarian matriarch, investigates arson in an encampment of travellers, but that case becomes more complicated as other even more serious crimes are committed.  Her daughter Jenny is tasked with locating Stella, her ex-sister-in-law who, a year earlier, stole the body of Jenny’s ex-husband and torched the Skelf family funeral home.  And Hannah, Jenny’s daughter, is asked to investigate harassment and threats against the first female Scottish astronaut.  As in the previous books, chapters alternate among the three women but their stories and cases also intertwine.

The three women are consistent with their personalities as developed in the previous books.  They are strong, capable women who, rather than being defeated by the potential loss of their family home, have expanded the business to include alkaline hydrolysis and eco burials.  Unfailingly loyal, they support one another.  To varying degrees, all try to understand that grief comes in many forms and strive to understand and provide comfort.  Jenny has tended to be my least favourite Skelf because of her chaotic, often self-destructive, behaviour, but I am pleased that she is now less angry and seems much calmer.  A stabilizing friendship has helped her be less reactive and judgmental.  Readers familiar with the series will be happy to see the return of the other characters as well:  Indy, Archie, and Thomas.  A new character, Brodie Willis, is added to Dorothy’s collection of strays and wounded souls. 

I recently read The Space Between Us, Doug Johnstone’s foray into the science-fiction genre, and found that The Opposite of Lonely shares many similar themes.  One is the limitations of human knowledge and understanding:  Hannah thinks of humans as “blinkered idiots” whose “understanding of so much fell pitifully short.” 

Even stronger is the theme of connection:  “there was no ‘you’, no definitive self, unconnected from the universe. . . . We’re all up to our necks in the universe, we can’t be separated from it.”  Jenny thinks about “how all the lands of the world were connected by seas, every living thing in an inconceivable network, a web of intertwined meaning and possibility.”  Hannah thinks about being a “part of an interconnected universe, cosmic rays and neutrinos, solar bursts and supernovae, dark matter and black holes, animals and plants and mountains and caves and oceans and dirt.”  And Dorothy, at the end of the book, reflects that “Being connected, being a part of something other than yourself, is the most important thing.”

So the advice offered is that, because “everyone has an inner life, everyone is going through stuff you have no idea about,” it’s important to “Keep an open mind, see the other side, think about what it’s like to be someone else.”  We’re all “just trying to get along” and “trying to get to the end of the day” so we all need “a friendly face once in a while, someone to listen to your bullshit and not judge.”

This book has so much to recommend it:  a multi-layered plot, authentic and endearing characters, wonderfully detailed descriptions of Edinburgh, and thematic depth.  The book combines humour (usually of the dark variety), pathos (especially for the lonely and marginalized), and suspense (with more than one brush with danger).  The book ends with Dorothy playing the drums and thinking about how “She would keep going forever, if she could.”  I certainly hope the series keeps going.

Review of WHITE AS SNOW by Lilja Sigurðardóttir

 4 Stars

This is the third book in the Áróra Investigations series, following Cold as Hell and Red as Blood.  I’m glad I read Red as Blood just before White as Snow because there is some overlap.  Criminal elements that Áróra, a financial investigator, encounters in it make an appearance in this novel as well.

Five women are found in an abandoned shipping container; only one, Bisi Babalola, is alive.  Daníel Hansson, a police detective and Áróra’s friend and romantic interest, becomes involved in this human trafficking case.  He is assisted by his colleague Helena who plays a key role in helping Bisi.  Meanwhile, Áróra is asked to investigate Sergei, the lover of Elín, Daníel’s ex-wife and Áróra’s cousin.  Sergei is pushing for marriage, but Elín has some doubts stemming from secretive conversations he has in Russian, a language she does not understand.  From the beginning, I correctly guessed the connection between the two investigations, but it was interesting to read how the links are uncovered. 

Readers of the previous novels will be happy to encounter familiar characters, though I found that Áróra is not as involved as in previous cases.  My favourite character, Lady Gúgúlú, makes several appearances.  She helps to provide some lighter moments in a book that examines the dark side of humanity.  The conversations about chick peas and the “step-mother” are welcome relief when abductions, human trafficking, sexual exploitation, and murder are crimes being investigated. 

The book focuses on human trafficking.  What I appreciated is that the book examines the toll both on victims and investigators.  Because Bisi’s perspective is included, we learn, through her flashbacks, how she fell victim to traffickers and the impact her horrific experience has on her.  The introduction of Rita later in the novel only emphasizes the latter.  Daníel is traumatized by what he sees in the shipping container, so much so that he doesn’t want to be in charge of the case. 

Helena works closely with Bisi and I enjoyed reading about how Bisi comes to trust her.  It is because of Helena that Bisi begins to cooperate with the police.  I was so pleased with myself for correctly guessing the reason for Bisi’s not wanting to return to her home country.  And it was great to learn about the development in the relationship between Helena and Sirra which is introduced in Red as Blood.

There is mention of Áróra’s looking for her missing sister, but that search is not concluded, so I assume there will be more books in this series.  There’s also the relationship between Áróra and Daníel to develop further.  I look forward to the next installment in the series, a series I recommend.  Its short, snappy chapters and quick pace make for a fast but enjoyable read. 

See my review of Cold as Hell at https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/01/review-of-cold-as-hell-by-lilja.html and Red as Blood at https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/10/review-of-red-as-blood-by-lilja.html.  

Review of RED AS BLOOD by Lilja Sigurðardóttir

 4 Stars

This is the second installment in the Áróra Investigations series following Cold as Hell (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/01/review-of-cold-as-hell-by-lilja.html). 

Áróra, a financial investigator from the U.K. who specializes in finding hidden assets, has extended her stay in Iceland to continue the search for her sister Ísafold.  She becomes involved in a case involving a wealthy businessman named Flosi. 

Flosi arrives home to discover his wife Guðrún has been abducted.  A ransom note demanding €2 million is left with strict instructions not to involve the police or Guðrún will be killed.  Flosi contacts his accountant who asks Áróra to go and see Flosi.  She realizes that Flosi needs more help that she can provide so she contacts Daníel, the police detective who has been working on Ísafold’s case.  So as not to alert the kidnappers, a secretive police operation is set up.  Who is responsible for Guðrún’s disappearance?

The novel is well-plotted.  It quickly becomes obvious that Flosi keeps secrets about both his personal and professional life; at one point he is described as someone “’who has definitely hidden information and never offers anything unless it’s forced out of him.’”  Of course, he’s not the only suspect because there are a number of people who have plausible motives. 

The novel has four points of view:  that of Áróra, Daníel, Flosi, and Helena, one of Daníel’s colleagues.  This narrative approach works well for both plot and character development.  Certainly, Helena, who is described as reliable if “a little inexperienced and not as intuitive as she might be,” provides an interesting perspective.  She sees Daníel as a mentor so we learn about his investigative techniques which she tries to emulate. 

Áróra is a complex, authentic character – flawed but likeable.  She is intelligent and determined and I love her pride in her “troll-and-Viking blood.”  At times she seems cold and calculating, but we get to see her caring and vulnerable side as well.  She regrets her estrangement with her sister and feels guilty for not coming to help when Ísafold had asked; as a consequence, she is very much motivated by a need for atonement. 

It is not necessary to have read Cold as Hell, but I would definitely recommend starting there for background.  The relationship between Áróra and Daníel, for instance, can be better understood knowing what happens in the first book.  I especially enjoyed the reappearance of Lady Gúgúlú, “’the sexiest and also the most daring queen to be found north of the Alps.’” 

The book touches on several crimes:  abduction, extortion, assault, murder, intimidation, tax evasion, and money laundering.  People lie and cheat and steal and engage in violence.  So there is plenty of action and several twists.  And the short, snappy chapters just add to the quick pace. 

I’ve enjoyed both books in this series and will be next reading White as Snow, the third book which will be available in Canada on October 12.  Check back in three days for my review of it. 

Review of SOMEONE LIKE HER by Awais Khan

4 Stars 

As in his previous book No Honour, Awais Khan tackles societal injustice, especially the mistreatment of women. 

This novel begins in Multan, a conservative city in Pakistan.  Ayesha, 27, is single and independent, working for a charity which supports victims of domestic violence.  She catches the attention of Raza Masood, an ultra-wealthy man, who decides he wants to marry her.  Ayesha, however, is not interested and continues to see her boyfriend Saqib.  Unaccustomed to not getting what he wants, Raza exacts revenge.  Her family sends her to London to recover and protect her from further retribution.  There she meets Kamil who has suffered trauma of his own.  The two become friends and a romance buds, but it seems that Ayesha has not escaped Raza’s reach. 

Ayesha is a character whom the reader cannot but cheer for and empathize with.  An unconventional young woman, she is feisty and outspoken.  She eschews society’s expectation that she marry and, instead, has a relationship with a man whom she knows her family would not let her marry because of his lower status.  Nonetheless, she loves her parents.  Because of Raza’s actions, her self-esteem and confidence are weakened, but her inner strength helps her to find the courage to fight.

Raza, as an only son, has been indulged all his life.  As a result, he feels entitled and behaves arrogantly.  He is egotistical, obsessive, vindictive, and ruthless.  Though he can be charming when it suits his purpose, Ayesha thinks of him as a demon, and that is perhaps the best description.  I found him somewhat unbelievable because he has no redeeming qualities and his capacity for evil is boundless.  Nonetheless, I know, given that Raza’s behaviour realistically reflects what does happen in the world, that such odious people with no humanity do exist.

Raza’s foil is Kamil, a sensitive, gentle, and compassionate man.  He behaves the exact opposite of how a man is expected to behave in traditional Pakistani culture.  I loved that he is willing to let Ayesha take the lead and is “proud always to stand a step behind her.”  Because of trauma from his past, he attends a support group.  He keeps this a secret from his family, knowing they would think he was mentally ill.  One person, upon hearing about his attendance, says, “’A Pakistani man in therapy?  Now, I’ve seen everything.’” 

There are a couple of elements that bothered me.  The kidnapping scene involving Russian “goons from the dark web” seems a little far-fetched.  There are some inconsistencies that irked:  a woman says, “’I don’t know if she’s in love with you’” and then shortly afterwards states, “’I saw the way she looked at you sometimes.  There was definitely something there.  I think she is in love with you.’”  One moment Ayesha “didn’t close her eyes  . . . [because] she wanted to be fully present for every slight” yet then she closes “her [eyes] to the entire ordeal.”  Ayesha’s mother is supposedly subservient to her husband, yet more than once she talks back to him? 

I found it very difficult to like Ayesha’s parents.  At times they seem loving and supportive, yet at other times they manipulate her and place their financial security above any concerns for Ayesha’s safety and happiness.  Furthermore, the relationship between her mother Ishrat and Neelam, Ayesha’s aunt, is difficult to understand.  After the way Neelam has behaved, Ishrat still entrusts Neelam, a malicious gossip, with a secret that endangers her daughter?!

This book focuses on domestic violence – how women are abused and have virtually no recourse to justice.  At the charity where she works, Ayesha sees a young woman with her entire face bandaged and Ayesha knows immediately that she’s been attacked by her husband and wonders only, “Was it acid?  A knife?”  In the end, that husband avoids any consequences.  Ayesha is told that “’Over one thousand women have suffered such attacks in recent years in Pakistan alone’” but that “for most justice was merely an illusion.”  For those who are rich, it is especially easy to avoid prosecution; they can hire the best lawyers, threaten the victim’s family, and buy the influence of corrupt police.  What I appreciated is that the book also sheds some light on men who are victims of domestic abuse.  In his support group, Kamil hears about men as well as women suffering at the hands of abusers. 

As I read the book, I wondered how the book would be received in Pakistan.  The author does not portray the country in a positive light but exposes the darker side of Pakistani culture with its oppressive patriarchy.  There is an attempt to suggest that the entire country is not bad; one woman says, “’Sure, some people have antiquated beliefs, but you can’t call the entire country bad just because of a section of people.’”   Nonetheless, the comments that stick in my mind are ones like, “So much of a woman’s prospects in Pakistan depended on her beauty, her ability to bear beautiful sons who would keep the family’s legacy alive and take its name forward.  Daughters . . . well, they were expendable burdens that had to be unloaded on the first unsuspecting family that could be found” and “’Once you go to your husband’s home, only your funeral should emerge from those gates.  Don’t come back to us alive.’  These were the words she’d grown up hearing in the family, uttered mostly by men, but also by lots of women” and “Pakistanis in a nutshell . . . They couldn’t wait to catch the drama, but when it came to offering help, they were the first to look away.”

Though the book is tempered with some humour, primarily in the banter between Kamil’s mother Jamila and her two children, I found myself angry, sad and horrified most of the time. There are indeed some truly horrifying scenes, though the violence is not gratuitous but integral to the plot and necessary for thematic development.   In the last section, the tension becomes almost unbearable. 

Like No Honour, this book is an uncomfortable and unsettling read, but one that should nonetheless be read.

See my review of No Honour at https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2021/09/review-of-no-honour-by-awais-khan.html.

Review of THE SPACE BETWEEN US by Doug Johnstone (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

Being familiar with Johnstone’s Skelfs crime fiction series, I was intrigued to learn he’s ventured into the science fiction genre.  Actually, this book is first-contact science fiction with elements of a thriller and a drama. 

The protagonists are three troubled souls.  There’s 16-year-old Lennox Hunt who lives in a children’s home and is often bullied because of his mixed race.  Heavily pregnant Ava Cross is trying to escape her psychologically controlling husband.  And Heather Banks, a grieving mother with a terminal cancer diagnosis, sees suicide as her best option.  After the appearance of a blue-green light that streaks across the sky, the three suffer catastrophic strokes, but unlike many others, they miraculously recover.  Instinctively they realize that there is a connection between what happened to them and a mysterious cephalopod which is found washed up on a nearby beach.  When they seek out this unusual creature (whom Lennox names Sandy and always speaks of in the plural), they work together to protect them from shadowy government agents while attempting to reunite them with the rest of their species. 

The novel employs a multiple point of view structure.  The perspectives of Lennox, Ava, and Heather are given in alternating chapters.  A fourth viewpoint is that of Ewan McKinnon, a jaded journalist who begins by following the story and ends up supporting their endeavours. 

The book is fast-paced with a lot of suspense.  The fugitives are constantly in danger:  not only are they involved in a cat-and-mouse chase, evading the police and the sinister government agents, they are also being tracked by Michael, Ava’s abusive and well-connected husband.  This tension, along with the short chapters, keeps the reader engaged. 

The premise is certainly not new.  Initially I kept mentally comparing the novel to E.T. the Extraterrestrial and any number of other first-contact films.  But the book also examines some serious issues like bullying, grieving, and gaslighting.  In many ways, the novel struck me as a plea for people to be more open, to accept and connect with others.  At the beginning, Lennox, Ava, and Heather feel alone in the world.  Then they form a type of surrogate family linked by a common purpose.  When they connect with Sandy, they realize they are no longer isolated and separate but “three parts of something much bigger.”

The limitations of humans are delineated.   Lennox realizes that “none of them had a clue about life, the way the universe worked.  There was so much mysterious, incomprehensible shit out there making a mockery of their pathetic concerns, their wee lives.”  Heather concurs:  “The human view of earth was so myopic it was virtually blind. . . . Humans were nothing in the scheme of things.”  She gives a lot of thought to how little we know about life on earth because of our inability to communicate:  “She wondered about other forms of communication, the buzzard above, the sparrows in the trees, worms in the earth.”  Perhaps “the human idea of being singular, apart, alone, was a ridiculous and lonely way of looking at life.”  Isn’t “the point of humanity, a search for empathy, putting yourself in someone else’s shoes” so we can close the space between us?

As I read, I also couldn’t stop thinking that the book is, whether intentionally or incidentally, a commentary on the refugee crisis.  Sandy is really a refugee who washes up on a shore.  They and others of their species are looking for a safe haven.  Like Sandy, migrants are sometimes viewed as having a worldview that is “completely alien” and are often not warmly welcomed. 

I found the villains to be two-dimensional with no redeeming qualities, and there are some coincidences, so some suspension of disbelief is necessary.  And, certainly this book is not for those who like hard science speculative fiction because parts are “frustratingly vague.”  Nonetheless, I enjoyed the read; I guess I was just in the mood for a caper across the Scottish Highlands with an occasional conversation with an octopus-like alien – though the book, I think, is more about human beings than it is about aliens. 

Readers should be forewarned that the ending is abrupt and open-ended.  But I gather that this is actually the first of the Enceladons Trilogy.  The second book, The Collapsing Wave, is expected next year.  I will definitely be picking it up.

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