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.