Review of NIGHT WATCH by Jayne Anne Phillips

 3 Stars

This novel is set during and after the American Civil War and focuses on the lasting damage inflicted by war.

A man volunteers and becomes a sharpshooter fighting for the Union in 1861, leaving his pregnant wife in a cabin high in a mountain ridge in West Virginia.  His wife, alone except for Dearbhla, their “granny neighbour” who lives in a nearby cabin, gives birth to a daughter whom she names ConaLee.  After 1864, there is no news of the husband.  A man, known only as Papa, comes by the isolated dwelling and basically enslaves ConaLee and her mother.  The latter becomes so traumatized that she suffers mental and physical collapse.  In 1874, after stealing everything from them, Papa abandons 12-year-old ConaLee and her mother at the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum.  The two are admitted as Miss Janet, a gentlelady, and Eliza, her nursemaid. 

The novel shows Miss Janet’s slow recovery at the asylum.  While in residence, they become acquainted with various residents and staff, including Dr. Story, the physician superintendent, and John O’Shea, the night watchman.  The reader also learns what happened to ConaLee’s father during the war.  In addition, the background of ConaLee’s parents, their connection to Dearbhla, and the reason for their sheltering in the remote mountains are revealed. 

The book explores the lasting ravages of war:  “The fighting has ceased, but not the grief.”  There is only one battle scene; instead, the focus is on the consequences and long-term physical, emotional, and mental effects of war:  “War scars last. . . . Generations . . .” because the consequences of war continue to unspool “like malignant thread.”   John O’Shea fought in the war and, besides suffering permanent physical injuries, loses virtually everything important to him.  ConaLee is deprived of a father and her childhood and becomes a victim of the lawlessness that came with and after the war.  ConaLee’s mother loses her husband and is so terrorized by Papa that she becomes catatonic, leaving young ConaLee in charge of the household.  Dearbhla’s family is torn apart. 

What I found most interesting is the treatment of the patients in the asylum which follows an approach known as “moral treatment” based on the theory of real-life Dr. Thomas Story Kirkbride whose directive and organization of institutions for the insane were the gold-standard of clinical care in psychiatry throughout the 19th century.  Quotations from Dr. Kirkbride are included throughout.  I was certainly surprised by the humane and empathetic approach.  The list of “Reasons for Admission, 1864 to 1889” mentions “novel reading” so avid readers could have been seen as being in need of psychiatric care!

What I did not like is the novel’s reliance on coincidence.  The book’s six most important characters are brought together in a contrived way to create a climax.  One of those has escaped custody and reappears at just that moment?!  Magic realism elements are included and this blending of fantasy and reality seems unnecessary, used only to arouse more pathos.  The ending too is contrived, just too redemptive and melodramatic. 

The novel was a 2023 National Book Award Nominee for Fiction.  I was surprised to learn this because of the book’s uneven quality.  An interesting story is told, but the reader must suspend disbelief several times in order to enjoy it. 

Review of THE WIND KNOWS MY NAME by Isabel Allende

 3.5 Stars

This book draws parallels between Hitler’s Europe and the plight of Jewish people during World War II and Trump’s America and the struggles of migrants trying to escape violence in modern-day Latin America.

In 1938, five-year-old Samuel Adler is evacuated from Nazi-occupied Austria to London.  An orphan, he is eventually adopted by a kindly Quaker couple.  His musical career and interest in jazz bring him to the United States.  Eighty years later, seven-year-old Anita Diaz escapes El Salvador because her mother Marisol faces escalating violence.  Arriving at the southern border when the U.S. government has instituted a family separation policy to deter refugees, Marisol and Anita are separated.  Selena Durán, a social worker, and Frank Angliheri, a corporate lawyer, work together to find Marisol whom they think has been deported and to ensure Anita is in a safe place in the meantime.  As expected, Samuel and Anita’s lives intersect. 

The book emphasizes the struggles faced by people trapped by geopolitical violence and left to navigate alone in a world totally foreign to them.  Torn from her family, Anita has the same struggles as Samuel did.  Even Frank’s grandparents fled the Sicilian mafia.  There are other parallels:  the dramatic sacrifices of parents wanting to protect their children.  Samuel’s mother has little choice but to put her only son on the Kindertransport if he is to have any chance of survival.  Likewise, Marisol has to leave to protect herself and her daughter.  The same is also true for Leticia Cordero, Samuel’s housekeeper:  Leticia’s father, with his daughter, flees El Salvador in 1981 after the El Mozote massacre which left no other family survivors.  The message is that “’No one in this world is every truly safe . . . We could all just as easily find ourselves in similar situations.’” 

The subject matter of the novel is so worthy and relevant, but I was disappointed with the execution.  There is so much exposition and so little dialogue that I often felt like I was reading a newspaper article that summarizes what happens to characters rather than a novel which shows.  The timeline is so lengthy and there is so much information to convey that I felt like I was receiving a history lesson rather than reading a novel. 

I think the author does the reader a disservice by her lack of subtlety.  I think a more effective method is to allow characters’ stories to speak for themselves and let readers reach their own conclusions.  For instance, we are repeatedly told that the border crisis is unacceptable.  Why not just show the measures employed and the feelings of those who experience those policies?  Successful novels engage the reader by showing, not telling.  A heavy-handed didactic approach is less effective than an emotional appeal when trying to persuade someone.  Sometimes characters serve as mere mouthpieces of a political viewpoint.  Frank, for instance, represents a certain perspective when he argues, “’But we can’t just open the floodgates and let millions of immigrants and refugees in.’”  Selena responds by launching into a diatribe about how the U.S. government bears responsibility because for years the U.S. intervened in Latin American politics to defend its economic interests in the region. 

Certainly, there is considerable political commentary.  The author blames the U.S. for the situation on its southern border and points out that the policy of separating children from families has a long history:  “’Enslaved parents saw their children ripped away from them and sold off.  Native Americans had their children taken away to become “civilized” in horrific state-run orphanages.  Thousands of those kids died of contagious illnesses and malnutrition, then were buried in unmarked graves.’” 

I think that the book could use some judicious editing.  There are subplots which add little to the novel.  If these were removed, there could be more development of the most important characters and events.  For instance, do we need to know about Leticia’s three marriages, Nadine’s backstory, and Selena’s family?  Are Selena’s romantic involvements really relevant?  The magic realism elements also seem extraneous.  The author tries to include so many ideas that the impact of the book is diluted. 

There are other elements that bothered me.  Would a social worker and lawyer devote endless personal time and money to help just one child?  A ring of human traffickers kidnaps women and girls in order to torture them and then murders them and disposes of their bodies?  Some connections seem rather contrived:  Frank has a senior diplomat at the American embassy in El Salvador as one of his closest friends?  Does Samuel’s love of music really have to have a parallel with Anita’s musical talent?  Frank is expected to become an expert in immigration law after completing an online introductory course?  And the ending is certainly emotionally satisfying but I imagine such endings are rare. 

With its examination of forced migration and displacement, this book is certainly thought-provoking.  The problem is that it is too ambitious; it tries to do too much in a relatively short length (270 pages).  It ends up being overstuffed with exposition.   I recommend it based on its subject matter, not because of its literary quality. 

Review of THE RABBIT FACTOR by Antti Tuomainen

 3 Stars

I’m not sure how to categorize this novel; perhaps it’s best identified as a darkly comedic Nordic noir crime caper with romance elements. 

Henri Koskinen, an insurance actuary, inherits an adventure park, YouMeFun, near Helsinki after his brother’s death.  Along with the park come some peculiar staff members and an enormous debt to dangerous criminals.  Henri’s carefully ordered life is turned into chaos, and his emotions after meeting one of his staff, Laura Helanto, leave him totally discombobulated.  (Am I the only one who thought of The Rosie Project when Laura is introduced?)  Will Henri be able to save the park as his brother wished?  Since the criminals are willing to go to murderous lengths to collect their money, will Henri be able to save himself? 

I liked the protagonist.  At times he reminded me of Spock in the Star Trek series.  Henri relies on reason and logic:  “I just wanted things to occur in a good, logical order and that I based all of my actions on rational thinking.”  For him, the application of mathematics provides “Happiness, comfort, hope.  Sense and logic.  And above all:  solutions.”  He’s social awkward, unwilling to engage in ordinary pleasantries:  “’I don’t need to know how other people are doing.  I don’t want to know what they’re thinking, what they’ve done or how they experience things.  I don’t want to know what they are planning, their hopes and aspirations.  So I don’t ask.’”  He even uses logic to choose a restaurant:  “’Given the average rating review, the distance from our respective bus stops, the prevailing weather, the day of the week, the time of the year, your predilection for spicy food, and the fact that the point of a date is to try and make an impression on the other person, this seemed like the optimal choice.’” 

Of course Henri, the man who sees math and logic as the solution to all problems and so wants to calculate everything, is presented with situations and emotions that do not lend themselves to easy computation.  So he is very much a fish out of water, a purely logical man in an emotional world full of illogical and irrational behaviour.  In the course of the novel, he learns that it’s not just “calculations that tell us what is beautiful and what is not” and that it’s possible and perhaps desirable to live “’with less of a focus on probability calculus.’”

Though it relies on the “love conquers all” trope, I can accept Henri’s emotional growth, but I had difficulty with his transformation from a meek and mild actuary to a take-charge hero who successfully bests professional criminals.  Even for someone who dismisses emotional responses, his lack of a reaction to some of what he witnesses doesn’t make sense. 

There are parts I found humorous.  I liked Henri’s comments about management psychobabble, and his mathematical perspective on everything certainly amused.  Unfortunately, some of the scenes are too far-fetched for my liking.  The opening scene with Henri battering a man to death with a giant, plastic rabbit ear was my first indication that the book with this type of humour was probably not for me.  Other events just require too much suspension of disbelief.  And though the book is described as a “dark thriller,” I found it lacked tension and suspense.  Given the book’s tone and that Henri is the narrator, it’s obvious that he will emerge victorious and all will end well. 

I feel like I’m breaking up with someone when I state that it’s not the book.  I am the problem.  Offbeat stories with absurd plots are not to my taste.  It’s an easy read, but I didn’t engage with it, finding it more contrived that funny.  Others will undoubtedly love this book, but the combination of dark and silly didn’t work for me.  The book is followed by The Moose Paradox and The Beaver Theory, but I think I’ll not read these.  My sense of humour, or lack thereof some would claim, is not a good fit for this trilogy. 

Review of A FATAL GRACE by Louise Penny

 3 Stars

This is the second book in the Chief Inspector Armand Gamache series set in the Eastern Townships of Quebec. 

An especially unpleasant woman, CC de Poitiers, is electrocuted on a frozen lake during a curling match near Three Pines.  Gamache and his team arrive to investigate.  There prove to be many suspects because CC, cruel and totally self-centred, is not liked by anyone, not even her husband Richard, her daughter Crie, and her lover Saul.  Gamache also takes an interest in the case of an unhoused woman who was strangled in Montreal. 

The number of coincidences bothered me.  Once again, several of the villagers are involved in the case.  Clara and Peter, for example, come into possession of an important clue.  Clara happens to encounter CC on an escalator and even talks to the indigent woman who is killed shortly afterwards.  And it’s obvious from the beginning that there will be a connection between the two deaths that Gamache is interested in solving. 

Another issue for me is the murder itself.  It is unbelievably complicated, a crime almost impossible to carry out because so many things could have gone wrong and so much had to go right.  That the movements of CC’s killer go unnoticed by virtually everyone makes no sense.  I guessed the murderer’s identity from the beginning, not because I’m particularly perceptive but because the motive is so obvious. 

I enjoyed revisiting the quirky residents of Three Pines.  The three old women (Émilie, Bea, and Kaye) are interesting additions.  However, CC’s characterization reminded me of Yolande from Still Life, the self-absorbed social climber with no redeeming qualities.  I was also upset by the fat-shaming descriptions of Crie:  “And beside him an enormous child was wearing a sleeveless sundress of the brightest pink. Her underarms bulged and flopped and the rolls of her waist made the skin-tight dress look like a melting strawberry ice cream. It was grotesque."

Gamache continues to be almost too-perfect:  endlessly patient and compassionate.  His efforts to rescue people from a burning building are clearly intended to portray him as a hero.  And Beauvoir’s worship does seem a little over the top:  at a crucial moment he thinks first of his love for his boss instead of his love for his wife?!  What also bothered me are Gamache’s conversations about “sightings” of God in unlikely places – and he’s not the only one who claims to have encountered God!  I must add too that I didn’t enjoy the re-appearance of Yvette Nichol who shows no personal growth. 

The author keeps referring to the Arnot case.  Gamache believes that his actions in that case have guaranteed that he will never be promoted above his current position.  There are suggestions of an anti-Gamache police conspiracy, the goal of which is to bring down the chief inspector.  Hints of betrayal by friends and team members are undoubtedly intended to create suspense in the following books.  I just hope this plotline is not drawn out for too long.

I can’t say that this second instalment is a dramatic improvement over the first book.  The plot with its troubling coincidences feels contrived, and characterization is not sufficiently nuanced.  Nonetheless I’m sufficiently interested to continue.  I’ve already downloaded the next book, The Cruellest Month, for listening. 

Review of WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST by Alina Grabowski (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

I found it difficult to engage with this book; parts captivated me but others left me bored.

In Nashquitten, Massachusetts, a fictional coastal community, teenaged Lucy Anderson dies at a house party after a fall.  The circumstances around her death are not clear: Was it an accident?  Was it caused by a medical emergency?  Was it suicide?  Was she deliberately pushed?

The novel is divided into two sections:  Pre and Post.  Various women and teenaged girls, five in each section, speak about their lives before and after Lucy’s death.  All ten are connected to Lucy, some very closely and some more peripherally.  For instance, we hear from the president of the PTA at Lucy’s school, Lucy’s best friend, and Lucy’s mother.  Sometimes characters will reappear.  Jane is the first narrator in the Pre section, but she makes a cameo in the third chapter and is a character in the fourth Post story.  The principal of Lucy’s school is not one of the ten narrators but drifts in and out of several chapters.  Sometimes a character appears but is not clearly identified until later; this is the case with Maureen who actually talks to Jane in the first chapter though she is unnamed until she narrates the eighth chapter.

There is the mystery of how Lucy fell to her death, and people do speculate about assigning blame. Though there is no definite conclusion, the addition of perspectives negates some theories.  But there are other mysteries:  Why does Layla advise Sophia to write about her mother in her university application essay?  What is in the video posted about Lucy and who is responsible for it?  What will happen to Robert Taylor?  Why is Eric sent home from his part-time job?  Finding the answers for these questions does provide motivation to continue reading.

As the title implies, the focus is on women and girls.  The book does touch on some of the difficulties of being female in a small community where everyone knows everyone or thinks they know everything about everyone.  Virtually all the females are aware of societal expectations and judgments.  Anonymity and privacy are virtually impossible and reputations quickly ruined.  Two observations made by the PTA CEO really caught my attention; looking at a mural of the Virgin Mary, she muses “You know a man conceived her because she has this empty, faux-serene expression on her face that conveys absolutely nothing besides:  I am here to sacrifice.  A miserable image.”   And she also thinks that “a girl and a child are not the same.  A child is a pet.  A girl is prey.” 

Men remain secondary characters and often are not portrayed positively.  There are two male teachers who have inappropriate relationships with students.  Natalie works for “the founder” who is psychologically abusive.  Rae’s poet is manipulative.  Jane is being raised by a single mother.  Maureen is a single mother.  But the female characters are also not always likeable.  Mothers (Jane’s and Olivia’s and Sophia’s and Emma’s) often behave in ways that negatively impact their children.  All this is to say that the author has excelled at characterization; everyone is complex and flawed. 

The theme that is strongest for me is the interconnectedness amongst people.  Donne’s “No Man is an Island” even came to mind.  What one person does can impact many others.  Certainly, Lucy’s death affects many people, even some who barely knew her.  All of the characters are connected in some way.  I wish I had kept a chart of the connections among the various characters because one character often has connections with several others:  Rae is Mona’s friend; Rae’s landlady is Maureen; and Rae serves Brynn at the bar.  The theory of six degrees of separation also came to mind:  Natalie’s best friend is Mona; Mona knows Rae and works with Marina; Marina is at the party with Lucy, Brynn’s daughter, and Olivia; Olivia is the daughter of the principal who fires Layla, Mona’s roommate; Layla counsels Sophia, Lucy’s best friend; Sophia becomes friends with Jane; Jane has an encounter with Maureen, Rae’s landlady.

This book probably deserves a re-read because I’m certain I’ve missed important ideas and connections.  Some of my questions are unanswered:  Why does Rae hate trains?  This book is not an escapist read; its disjointed structure requires the reader to concentrate in order to see links.  Unfortunately, I found some of the chapters tedious and the subject matter rather dark so I have no desire to do a second reading at this time. 

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

Review of THE RUNNING GRAVE by Robert Galbraith

 3 Stars

This is the seventh book in the Cormoran Strike series.

This time Strike and his partner, Robin Ellacott, are hired to extricate a vulnerable young man from the Universal Humanitarian Church.  Robin goes undercover and meets Papa J and Mazu Wace who have formed a cult around their 7-year-old daughter Daiyu who drowned years ago but apparently makes supernatural appearances during gatherings of church members.  Robin learns those members are indoctrinated and given little freedom; they are undernourished, exhausted by hard work, deprived of sleep, denied medical attention, coerced into unprotected sex, and made complicit in crimes.  The case becomes about not just freeing one person but bringing down the entire cult. 

The book is almost 1,000 pages long and could use some judicious editing.  There are sub-plots that received unnecessary attention.  Of course, the agency has other employees and jobs but there need not be so much detail about them; the case about the stalking of an actress goes on and on.  There is also a lot going on in Strike’s life:  Charlotte is continuing her emotional blackmail, Uncle Ted is sinking into dementia, and a rival agency is complicating investigations.

And of course, there’s the see-saw relationship between Strike and Robin.  After several novels, their constant private dissecting of feelings is getting tedious.  As usual Strike goes to bed with yet another woman because Robin is dating another man.  They seem to behave like teenagers rather than adults. 

There is considerable suspense as Robin is in real danger while undercover.  Of course, some of what happens is predictable:  she stumbles across a key piece of evidence while managing to avoid the worst of the practices and is able to escape. 

My problems with the novel are the same I had with the previous three books in the series:  an overly 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.  There are so many characters it becomes difficult to remember who is who.   

The book’s copy-editor should not be rehired.  There are many errors that should have been corrected:  “I’m try not to” and “brought back memories Robin been trying to suppress” and “sat down back down” and “to never to know what”  and “We haven’t yet been able to trace her yet.”  One minute we are told “she was wearing pyjamas under her tracksuit” but then she “grabbed her pyjamas off her bed”? 

Despite its flaws – don’t get me started on the ever-so-convenient dying cellphone battery – the book is still an entertaining read.  And anyone interested in how a cult works will find useful information.  But it’s much longer than necessary!

Review of ONE OF THE GOOD GUYS by Araminta Hall (New Release)

 4 Stars

This is a social commentary with a lot of psychological suspense. 

Cole Simmonds, newly separated from his wife, Mel Connelly, leaves London and moves to a seaside cottage on the south coast of England where he takes a job as a wildlife ranger.  He meets Lennie Baxter, an artist living nearby, and the two become friends.  Then two young women activists raising awareness about violence against women disappear, and both Cole and Lennie find themselves in the midst of a police investigation and a media firestorm.  Both have secrets that emerge.

The book is narrated from multiple viewpoints:  Cole, Mel, and Lennie.  Also included are samples from media such as blog postings, social media threads, op-ed pieces, and interview transcripts.  Cole begins the novel.  He spends a great deal of time reflecting on the failure of his marriage, concluding Mel’s relentless careerism and her unwillingness to undergo another round of IVF caused the break.  He feels wronged and unappreciated because he believes he is one of the good guys since he is always caring and supportive.  He even claims to understand the pressures women face. 

From the beginning, I suspected Cole to be an unreliable narrator.  He constantly repeats his good qualities in a rather prideful fashion and seems to take no responsibility for the marriage breakdown.  He blames only Mel.  I started to think he is not being entirely truthful.  He comes across as rather whiny and that grates after a while.  There was something about him that just made me feel icky.  When we are given Mel and Lennie’s perspectives, we see a different Cole, someone manipulative and controlling.  Which version is closer to the truth?

Of course, as we get to know Mel and Lennie we realize that they are not genuinely good either.  They devise a scheme that pushes moral and legal boundaries.  Their motivation is understandable but their methods are undoubtedly questionable.  But, of course, as Lennie states, “none of us is just one thing.  Especially not women, who so often contain the burden of multitudes.”  And there’s certainly truth to her observation that “women aren’t meant to be strategic or cunning.  Which seems unfair considering that gangsters and cowboys and superheroes are not only allowed vendettas but applauded for them.  Men are allowed to act, but women, it seems, should only react.”  The lines between right and wrong are blurred so who is the greatest victim and who the most blameworthy?

Character development is wonderful.  Each of the characters has backstories which add depth to the narrative.  The reader learns their struggles and secrets and motivations.   What is not so great is the coincidence that brings two characters together.  And the planning involved in their scheme may be ingenious and magnificent, as Lennie claims, but it seems far-fetched to me. 

What also bothered me is that the resolution is too drawn-out.  A plot almost ceases to exist so that the theme of misogyny can be emphasized.  The heavy-handedness at the end weakens the novel in my opinion. 

Nonetheless, I highly recommend the book.  The women in the novel speak of the importance of conversations around topics like male violence, pornography, and society’s double standards for women, and this book encourages those conversations.   It would be a great choice for book clubs.  It is entertaining and thought-provoking – an intelligent book that stimulates discussion. 

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

Review of THE RAGING STORM by Ann Cleeves

 3.5 Stars

This is the third installment in the Two Rivers series following The Long Call (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2019/09/review-of-long-call-by-ann-cleeves-new.html) and The Heron’s Cry (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2021/09/review-of-herons-cry-by-ann-cleeves-new.html). 

Jem Rosco, a celebrity sailor/adventurer, arrives in the isolated town of Greystone in Devon.  He visits the local pub daily but then one day his lifeless body is found in a dinghy anchored in nearby Scully Cove.  Detective Inspector Matthew Venn leads the investigation; he is somewhat familiar with the locale, having visited it as a child when he was part of a Christian fundamentalist group.  Venn is assisted by colleagues DC Ross May and DS Jen Rafferty, but the body count increases before the case is solved.

The plot is typical of a police procedural.  It begins slowly, but tension is ramped up as the number of suspects grows and a second body is discovered.  As expected, two of the officers find themselves in danger towards the end.  The one aspect that bothered me is the killer’s motive:  I was not totally convinced.  The guilty party has to be quite the mastermind to devise the complicated scheme.

As the title suggests, the novel is very atmospheric because of the setting.  Cold, rainy, windy weather is a constant presence, but the storm is not just meteorological; it is soon clear that an emotional storm is responsible for some of the events.  The secluded village of Greystone, as its name implies, is bleak, and full of superstitious, reticent villagers who are wary of outsiders.  And Scully Cove has a reputation as an unlucky place amongst the locals.

What I enjoy about the series is the character development of the investigative team.  Each has distinctive traits and personal issues.  Venn is introspective, a complex and wounded man.  I see growth in him from the first novel.  Rafferty is still trying to find a family life/work balance but seems less overwhelmed.  May continues to be annoying; he’s egotistical, impatient, ambitious, and petulant.  Venn wishes that May could be “shocked . . . into introspection or maturity.” 

As are the others in the series, this book is an enjoyable read.  It is not exceptional in quality, but lovers of the Vera Stanhope and Shetland series will find it satisfying. 

Review of CLOUD CUCKOO LAND by Anthony Doerr

4.5 Stars

I thought I’d begin 2024 with a book that’s been on my to-read pile for a while.  I’m so glad I finally got to it!

This novel, dedicated to librarians and described by its author as “a paean to books,” certainly does celebrate the transformative power of storytelling, books, and libraries.

It consists of interlocking stories from past, present, and future, all with a connection to an invented text of Greek antiquity which tells the story of Aethon, a simple-minded shepherd, who hears a story of an imaginary city in the sky where there is no want or suffering and sets out to find it.  In the past, in 15^th-century Constantinople, there’s Anna, an orphan who becomes adept at thievery, and Omeir, a boy with a cleft palate born into poverty.  In the present, 2020 in Idaho, Zeno, an octogenarian, works with a group of children to stage a play in the public library when Seymour, an autistic teenager hyper-concerned about the environment, arrives with two bombs.  In the future, Konstance, a young teenager, spends her days in a hermetically sealed spaceship headed for a distant planet.  Very slowly, the connections among these various characters in their different timelines emerge. 

The structure is complicated and the plot intricate, but I never found myself confused.  The characters are likeable, and each of their stories is engaging.  Often in books with multiple protagonists and storylines, one or more narrative will be less interesting, but that is not the case here.  I was as captivated by Zeno’s experiences in the Korean War as I was by Omeir’s during the siege of Constantinople.  Konstance’s curiosity about the world is as fascinating as Anna’s.  Each narrative is sufficiently suspenseful so the reader is impelled to continue reading. 

Though each character is distinctive, they do share similarities.  All have experienced loss; all five have at least one missing parent.  They are often outcasts:  Zeno is scorned because he is an immigrant; Omeir’s disfigurement means people fear him; and Seymour’s autism makes him a victim of bullying.  Virtually all are trapped by poverty.  All find themselves in danger, but they persevere.    And perseverance is definitely a lesson in Aethon’s story.  Their search for knowledge and understanding is evident:  Anna’s begging to be taught to read and Konstance’s fascination with the Atlas stand out.  A connection to nature also characterizes them:  Omeir has his oxen; Seymour, an owl; and Konstance, a Bosnian pine. 

As mentioned, the book emphasizes the consolation stories have provided for millennia.  When her sister is ill, Anna reads her Aethon’s story and “her sister doesn’t seem to suffer as much.”  Later, Anna uses the same story to ease her son’s pain.  Zeno is told that “’for as long as the story lasts, you get to slip the trap,’” and he applies this during the hostage situation.  Konstance’s father tells her Aethon’s story to entertain her and teach her lessons.  And, of course, stories connect people, both to the characters in the stories and also to other readers of the same story.  Anna and Omeir, Zeno and the children, and Konstance are all told and tell Aethon’s story. 

Anna is told that books are precious repositories but they can die:  “’Day after day, year after year, time wipes the old books from the world. . . . One bad-tempered abbot, one clumsy friar, one invading barbarian, an overturned candle, a hungry worm – and all those centuries are undone.’”  People must work to preserve books, and the author seems to suggest that we must also work to protect the natural world.  Aethon realizes that perhaps he wasted his time searching for a distant utopia because “What you already have is better than what you so desperately seek.”  He learns to appreciate “the green beauty of the broken world.”  Maybe we can fix the broken world because, though the protagonists are ordinary individuals of humble status, their actions have major ramifications in the future; each demonstrates that “’there is nobility in being part of an enterprise that will outlast you.’” 

There is much to unpack in this novel.  If I were still teaching literature classes, I could see myself assigning any number of possible topics for essays about this book which combines historical fiction, fable, speculative fiction, coming of age fiction, mystery, tragedy, comedy, and social commentary.  Though over 600 pages, it doesn’t feel like a lengthy book; its short, punchy chapters and masterful storytelling mean that it’s a fast-paced, thoroughly engrossing read.