Review of STUDY FOR OBEDIENCE by Sarah Bernstein (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This novel won the 2023 Giller Prize and was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. For its paperback release, I was given the opportunity to review it.

The narrator, an unnamed woman, moves to an unnamed northern country to become the housekeeper for her eldest brother. Though her ancestors came from this rural region, she doesn’t speak the language. She tries to become part of the community, but she’s treated with suspicion and is blamed for a number of unfortunate events involving animals.

Anyone looking for a dramatic plot should look elsewhere because this book is basically plotless. Little happens other than what I just described. Though there is no overt violence, there is tension. Early on she mentions, “it would have been only one behaviour among many others, truthfully or falsely reported, that would later be held against me.” Once her brother leaves on a business trip, she becomes very isolated, especially because she cannot communicate with anyone. And then the villagers become increasingly suspicious of her.

There is also tension in the fact that the narrator may be unreliable. We are given only her thoughts so there is no way of judging the accuracy of her description of events. For instance, there’s the epigraph: “I can turn the tables and do as I want. I can make women stronger. I can make them obedient and murderous at the same time.” And the narrator muses “Who knew . . . what one might be capable of” and “my obedience had itself taken on a kind of mysterious power” which she feels she “ought to have begun putting it to use. Was an intervention possible?”

Likewise, the ending is ambiguous and leaves the reader with a lot of questions. Readers looking for closure will definitely be frustrated because it is very unclear as to exactly what happens.

The narrator is not a likeable character. She is compliant and meek and quiet, living to serve others. Her goal seems to be to erase herself; from childhood, “I determined to eradicate my pride and my will.” She suffers from a martyr complex, sacrificing her life for others and accepting blame needlessly. So often I wanted to scream at her to stand up for herself, especially in her dealings with her demanding brother.

I can only describe this as a complex and difficult book. The style is almost stream-of-consciousness with run-on sentences and lengthy paragraphs, some so dense as to be impenetrable. Is the author being intentionally humorous by inserting “to make a long story short” in this sentence: “The Department of Agricultural Affairs and its associate authorities had, to make a long story short, given notice to the keepers of domestic fowl that there had been an outbreak of avian flu in one of the neighbouring nations, a nation which had been, at intervals, ally and enemy, occupier and liberator, and that, as a precautionary measure and for an unspecified length of time, all domestic birds, including but not limited to chickens, geese, pigeons, ducks, etcetera, would have to be protected from their wild sisters and brothers, either in coops or in barns, in runs or in homes.” There is no dialogue but there are all sorts of digressions. For instance, at one point the narrator wonders “about the lives of cabbages, their hearts and their vitality.” The formal and elegant prose uses erudite vocabulary like ascesis and aestival. Reading this book requires the reader’s full attention and even then I find that the meaning gets lost because of the excessive wordiness.

There’s a vagueness to the novel. For example, none of the characters are given a name – except for a dog. The country is not named and even the time period is uncertain. There are references to the internet, Twitter and Microsoft Teams, but the villagers seem to live in the past. I imagine the indeterminate setting is to emphasize a universal theme.

In some ways, this is an allegory about anti-Semitism. The narrator gradually reveals her Jewish background and the historical struggles of her people. Reference is made to the phrase “none was too many” and the Holocaust. She even mentions common anti-Semitic stereotypes like the fact that she was always made treasurer of organizations because of her ethnic background. But of course intolerance, bigotry and hostility are directed towards anyone who is different and therefore an outsider because of skin colour, religious beliefs, ethnic background, etc.

What also struck me is the gender dynamics. The narrator is a product of her upbringing which featured her eldest brother taking a particular interest in educating his sister. He told her that she erred in “entertaining the idea that it was reasonable for me to form my own judgements about the world, about the people in it.” He also told her that she had “to reorient all my desires in the service of another, that was the most I should expect to achieve.” When she moves in with him, he decides what she must do and she acquiesces because she has been taught to be subservient and submissive, even though her opinion of men is not high: “they were constitutionally incapable of being alone, terrified of not being admired, and seemed to regard ageing and its effects as a personal failing.”

One cannot but admire the writer’s innovative use of language but the book’s complexity and its unrelenting bleakness do not make it an enjoyable read. Some will undoubtedly find it downright inaccessible. I’m certain I missed a great deal, but I’m not motivated to re-read it at this time. I would need to complete a study for patience first!

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

Review of THE DARK WIVES by Ann Cleeves (New Release)

4 Stars

This is the eleventh installment in the Vera Stanhope series – another enjoyable visit with the pragmatic, no-nonsense detective.

The body of Josh Woodburn is found on the grounds of Rosebank, a private home for troubled teens where he volunteered part-time. At the same time, 14-year-old Chloe Spence, one of the home’s residents, goes missing. Is she Josh’s killer, a witness, or just a runaway? Vera and her team, Joe Ashworth and new member Rosie Bell, come to investigate the death and to find Chloe. Their search takes them to the Northumberland countryside with which Chloe was familiar only to discover a second body. Tension rises as Vera fears Chloe may be in danger.

Vera is still the same Vera we have come to know and love but a softer, more vulnerable side is revealed. The tragedy at the end of the previous book, The Rising Tide, has left her grieving and feeling regret. Vera knows she made mistakes and remembers “clever quips and unthinking words of criticism” and resolves to be more collaborative and more open in communicating with team members. Though she tries to watch her words and to use a more inclusive approach, in the end she reverts to old behaviour and keeps her theory from Joe and Rosie until the end.

The case has Vera revisiting the Stanhope Arms, a pub frequented by her father Hector so we see Vera confronting her past. A conversation with the local doctor causes her to reconsider her father’s legacy. I also like that Vera has an opportunity to make a new friend, one whom Joe describes as “a social services version of Vera, though definitely better dressed.”

The addition of Rosie is also a nice touch. Intelligent, energetic, and ambitious, she wants to impress Vera but she is also not afraid to question Vera’s investigative methods. Her arrival changes the team’s dynamics: Joe finds himself working with two strong women and because he feels “a competitive streak and a tinge of jealousy,” he thinks he has to prove to Vera that he is “still her right-hand officer.”

I love the title. It refers to a trio of monumental stones in the Northumberland countryside. Local legend tells the story of three wives who talked too much and so were turned to stone as a punishment. The book is even dedicated to dark wives, “uppity young women with minds of their own.” There are more than a few candidates for the position of dark wife. The three teens who place friendship and loyalty above all else certainly fit the description, but so does the demanding and impatient Vera.

The complex plot certainly had me guessing until the end. I did take issue with the information dump at the end; like Joe and Rosie, the reader is left in the dark. There are lots of red herrings but perhaps a paucity of clues pointing to the right direction. Everything makes sense, though I did find the motivation of one character to be rather weak.

Besides being an entertaining police procedural, the book makes a statement about the need to reform privately owned care homes which are more concerned with profit than the needs of those in their care. Rosebank, a rather run-down and unappealing facility, is short-staffed and under-funded so the resources needed by its residents are unavailable. The author in an opening note acknowledges being inspired “by an investigative piece about private children’s homes on BBC Radio” and has Vera arguing that “’they’re a breeding ground of crime and antisocial behaviour. If we’re putting an emphasis on prevention, I wonder if we should be making a case for bringing them back into local authority control.’”

As with all the books in the series, I recommend a reader poke his/her neb into this one.

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

Review of THE TRIALS OF LILA DALTON by L. J. Shepherd (New Release)

 2 Stars

This book is an odd mix of courtroom drama, speculative fiction, and psychological suspense.

Lila Dalton awakes in a courtroom with no memory of who she is or her life. She quickly surmises that she’s a lawyer whose job it is to defend a man who planted bombs that killed 27 people. The trial is being held on an isolated island in the north Atlantic where the most serious crimes are tried. She starts receiving threatening messages, knows she is being monitored, and is even accused of a crime, so she doesn’t know whom she can trust even as it becomes apparent that it is imperative that she succeed in having her client acquitted.

The chaotic plot requires a great deal of suspension of disbelief. Its a muddled mishmash that goes madly off in in all directions, touching on conspiracy theories, far-right extremists, white supremacists, satanism, government cover-ups, the nature of time, mind-control, and memory tampering. The convoluted plot with its implausible scenarios is confusing and difficult to follow.

Then there’s the ending! The last scene is a coming-full-circle scene which is a nice touch but there are so many unanswered questions. The ending that is supposed to explain everything doesn’t, so it’s definitely not a satisfactory closing.

Another problem is that it is difficult to connect with Lila. We get to learn very little about her and she acts in a scatter-brained manner. For example, she knows she should be focusing on the case but she goes off and wastes time, later admitting, “How could I have dropped the ball so badly?” We do see glimmers of intelligence during her cross-examinations of witnesses, but otherwise there’s no depth to her. There’s a similar problem with the secondary characters who are also flat. So many of the men are stereotypical misogynists?

The only time I found myself agreeing with the novel was during the discussion of the dangers of the internet: “’This is going to be an information war. And the casualties will be logic and truth. The bombs will be lies and rhetoric. . . . People will be controlled by the internet. Even weirder, they’ll think they’re in control.’”

This book was definitely not for me. Much of the time I felt like Lila: lost and disoriented. Was this the author’s intention? The labyrinthine ideologies espoused by various characters and the illogical sequence of events make this a bizarre read. For me, it was a real trial.

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

Review of THE THING ABOUT MY UNCLE by Peter J. Stavros (New Release)

3.5 Stars

This is an enjoyable coming-of-age story.

Fourteen-year-old Rhett Littlefield is expelled from his school in Louisville, Kentucky. His mother, totally frustrated with his behaviour, sends him to stay with her brother Theo. Uncle Theo is a reclusive, reserved man who lives alone, except for his dog Chekhov, on an isolated farm in Eastern Kentucky. Feeling he has no choice, Rhett agrees to his uncle’s strict home-schooling schedule, though he is given a mountain bike so he can go exploring on weekends. Rhett is determined to get to know his uncle, especially after they have some strange visitors. Gradually Rhett uncovers his uncle’s secrets, including some directly connected to his own past.

As I mentioned, this is a coming-of-age story. Rhett is trying to figure out where he belongs; because his mother works a lot, he has little supervision: “I had nothing to do, nowhere to be.” He is troubled by the absence of his father, a man who left the family about ten years earlier. Rhett feels guilty, believing he was somehow responsible for his father’s taking off and leaving his family. He admits that after a few years, “I gave up on waiting for Pops to come back, and I gave up on a lot of other things too, school being the primary other thing.” His being sent away by his mother feels like another abandonment. At Uncle Theo’s his life is structured and he has to pay attention to his studies. He is also encouraged not to waste time, to be active, and to have fun as well. As time passes, he realizes the truth of his uncle’s lessons, gains confidence, and becomes more secure in his self: “I guessed there was something to be said for not fitting in and still being comfortable in your own skin.”

Rhett is a young boy it is difficult not to like. He’s a good kid who has not had an easy home life. Though he does not always follow the rules, he’s not incorrigible. He’s lost and troubled. He’s sensitive, imaginative and, as his uncle repeats, “’you sure are an inquisitive one.’” He loves his mother and sister; he tries to understand his mother’s decision to send him away and concludes “it couldn’t have been easy for her, I knew it couldn’t, sending me off like this. And I felt that much worse for letting Mama down.”

Uncle Theo is also a character the reader will come to like. At first he’s just a big man with a disheveled appearance (wild hair, unkempt beard, torn clothing, tattoos) who is a mystery because Rhett knows little about him. As Rhett gets to know his uncle, we see a man who is not perfect but who is patient, spiritual, and wise. At times he made me think of Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird; just as Atticus talks to Scout and Jem so does Uncle Theo talk to Rhett and try to teach him about life: “’It’s not always so easy to tell the bad guys from the good guys. The line can get pretty blurry at times. That’s just how life is, bud’” and “’everything somehow works out the way it’s supposed to. Might not be the way you thought or hoped or had planned for yourself, could be something you never would have imagined in your wildest dreams’” and “’appreciate how precious time is.’”

Since Rhett is the first-person narrator, the style, with its repetitions, seems appropriate. Certain phrases are repeated throughout. For instance, when describing the dumpster near which Rhett gathers with his friends, he always mentions that it “smelled of sour milk”; when Theo rubs his beard, Rhett always mentions “the gray part around his mouth”; and when describing the quiet meals with his uncle, Rhett repeats, “just utensils clinking against plates, chews and swallows, Chekhov begging for table scraps.”

There are some nice touches of humour: Rhett’s first meeting with Chekhov, meals with mystery meat, and Rhett’s naive comments which are often ironic. But there is also tension, especially as strange men visit Uncle Theo and when the sheriff arrives with his warning.

There are a couple of things that bothered me: Rhett’s mother never calls to speak to her son? When Rhett learns something about his father, he doesn’t ask the most obvious question? Rhett is so innocent and naive that it takes him so long to figure out the nature of his uncle’s business? The discussion of religion feels forced and unnatural and the climax, inevitable and predictable.

The book is classified as adult fiction, but I think it would be appropriate for young adults. Teenagers would undoubtedly find Rhett a relatable character.

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

Review of INTERPRETATIONS OF LOVE by Jane Campbell (New Release)

3 Stars

This is a cerebral novel with very little plot.

Professor Malcolm Miller has a letter he didn’t deliver 50 years earlier. It was written by his sister Sophy just before her death and that of her husband in a car accident which left their daughter Agnes an orphan. Agnes, now in her 50s, is returning to her ex-husband’s home for the first time to celebrate the wedding of their daughter. Malcolm decides this would be a good time to show the letter to his niece. Also present at the wedding is Dr. Joe Bradshaw, the intended recipient of Sophy’s letter. He was once Agnes’ therapist; from his first session with her, Joe felt an immediate attraction to Agnes. Agnes’ ex-husband’s second wife and Joe’s second wife are sisters, but the letter suggests that Agnes and Joe may be connected in a closer way.

The novel opens promisingly with an interesting premise. A wedding brings together family but there’s a long-held secret about to be revealed which will upend many lives. Unfortunately, the novel does not develop the potential conflicts; in fact, it is not until almost two-thirds into the book that the letter is finally given to Agnes by her uncle. Instead, we are given pages of interior monologues from Malcolm, Agnes, and Joe. The three characters, each in first person, ponder and ruminate and brood and deliberate and muse and meditate. Their endless introspections about their loves and losses become tedious.

This is not a light, easy read. There are lengthy paragraphs, sometimes pages long, with little dialogue. The prose is formal and elaborate, as befits the highly educated characters, but that erudite style requires the reader to pay serious attention. Discussions of psychoanalysts Freud and Jung and the philosopher Spinoza are frequent. These reflect the author’s educational and professional background, but references to Oedipal and Electra complexes might not be common knowledge to many readers. There is at times almost a textbook feel to the novel.

Though we are given intimate knowledge of the characters’ thoughts and feelings, I did not find them relatable. The formal language makes them feel remote, and they sound very similar so it is difficult to distinguish among them. We don’t see them living; we only read their thoughts about their lives, and their never-ending angst becomes mind-numbing. Malcolm is my favourite and I would have preferred more of him and less of Agnes and Joe, but generally I just felt indifferent about all of them.

The book examines the lasting effects of tragedy and loss. Both Agnes and Joe were orphans from an early age, and their losses have shaped their lives and relationships for the rest of their lives. Likewise, Malcolm’s life was deeply affected by the death of his sister. Though the three main characters have loved and been loved, all seem to be looking for the love they lost in their formative years. Early on there is mention made “that it is not so easy to keep the past back there where it belongs since it tends to leak into the present all the time. No matter how firmly you slam the watertight door and lock it and then throw the whole weight of your body against it in order to resist the monstrous pressure exerted on the other side by all those emotions from the past which you do no want to feel again you will fail and they will smash through and hurl you to the ground and then once more overwhelm you.”

This is not a light summer read. Its dense style with pages of character self-analysis and detailed descriptions will not appeal to anyone looking for an action-packed book. There’s also a melancholic atmosphere throughout. I can’t say I enjoyed the book; at times I considered not finishing it.

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

Review of THE KASZUBY STORIES by Gail Olsheski

 3 Stars

This book, classified as a memoir and complete with family photos, consists of twelve stories about the life of the Kashubs around Barry’s Bay, Ontario, in the mid-twentieth century. The author, a descendant of the Kashubs who first arrived and settled the region in 1858, outlines some of the customs of the Kashub community which were part of her upbringing.

What is unusual about the book is that it’s published in two languages. The recto pages are in English whereas the verso pages are a translation into Kashubian by Stanley Frymark. (I met Mr. Frymark when my husband and I visited Poland in the spring of 2014; we even stayed at his B&B, Zamek Zaborski.) Though as a child I spoke Kashubian, I can’t read the language so my review is based only on the English.

I was interested in reading these stories because I too am a Kashub descendant who grew up in the Barry’s Bay area; in fact, I’m only four years younger than the author so my childhood memories are of the same time period about which she writes. Certainly some of which she describes resonated with me: jam-jams and twisters; day-long weddings; gun firings on New Year’s Eve; First Communion dresses and photos; picking blueberries; chokecherry jam; harvest meals; stone fences; Kaszuby roadside crosses; and being taught by nuns at St. Joseph’s school.

Some of the stories, however, had little Kashubian culture in them. The first one, for instance, entitled “Of Stories and Ecstasy,” focuses on Sister Therisita, a teacher at the elementary school, and the stories she told her students. It describes the daily life of the nuns and emphasizes how isolated Barry’s Bay was from the outside world seventy years ago. Likewise, the second story, “Dying in Snow,” could be set almost anywhere in Canada during the winter.

“The Berry Patch,” the third story, begins with the suggestion that Sister Therisita prayed for Jesus to manifest Himself while she prayed. How does the author know this was Sister’s “only yearning” and that she “never relinquished her dream”? Did the author use poetic license to embroider a story? I was left wondering if the other stories are factual or if they too were embellished. Did I read fiction or non-fiction or some amalgam?

Another element that bothered me is the deification of people. Grandpa Szczypior in “Table” is a godlike figure whose fields are called “his garden of Gethsemane” and whose voice in church gave “majesty to all their blessed events.” His beneficence to his neighbours and community is described as being boundless. In “Easter Finery,” it’s the author’s mother who is idolized in her service to her neighbours. And Bernadette in “The Berry Patch” is “absorbed in her thoughts about her holiness and how spotless she was. She had never even committed a venial sin, nothing had stained her soul”?

One of the best stories is “Lone Wolf” which very effectively touches on the loss of culture and traditions. Unfortunately, the author, as she does several times, feels the need to explain what the story already makes obvious: “The last time we visited StańcƗów we wanted to tell him that the land belonged to our lineage. . . . We wanted to remind StańcƗów that our species existed here because stark Martin had roamed all the way over to this treacherous new country and it was only by sheer fortitude that we survived the first century, so pride in that feat alone should keep us bound together in the very place for the next century. Somebody needed to explain to him that our story had been lived here too. Now was the time to realize the greatness of legacy.”

There are contradictions that irked. Having lived in the area described, I’m aware that the land granted to the Kashubs was “a land full of rocks” which “despite the efforts of three generations . . . could not be transformed into farmland.” But Grandpa Szczypior has “long fertile fields”? And a pet peeve is the repeated references to northern and northeastern Ontario. Having lived in both Barry’s Bay and in northeastern Ontario, I can vouch that they are not the same parts of the province!

The book could use some revision. Some ambiguity needs clarification. References are made to Siberia without explaining that this does not mean the region in Russia as people unfamiliar with Barry’s Bay might think. In one paragraph, a nun is praying in her room in the convent and in the next she is praying in a classroom? Who would be the middle daughter of eight daughters? Is the drunk man at the altar for Easter Mass the author’s father? After speculation about the many things for which the man seeks forgiveness, there’s the statement that “Momma would find forgiveness in her heart, she understood that men could be weak and not be able to resist the temptation of the bottle.” This is after her comparing her new coat to “the colour of the spilled wine from the bottles that fell out of our dad’s truck.” Yet later stories like “Pulp” show a different father. In “Road to Halfway,” the road is both “a solitary road” and the road along which houses were built on small concessions? And there’s a statement on p. 189 that I found disturbing: “The union of our father and mother [second cousins] was a co-mingling of the same clean blood and the eight of us kids in the fifth generation have always been proud that we descended from that single hereditary Kashubian gene”?!

Some editing is also in order. Comma splices abound. At times commas are omitted when needed, and at other times, they are used where unnecessary. A paragraph will sometimes switch from third person pronouns to second person pronouns for no reason. The author seems to love words and then uses them over and over; for instance, on p. 55, some form of patriarch or patriarchy is used five times. Atavistic is another word that is used repeatedly: “atavistic trait” and “atavistic memory” and “atavistic confidence.” At times language is flowery and ornate and at other times it is colloquial and ungrammatical: “Us children really loved sweets” and “us Kashubians settled in among the stumps” and “It was us kids who were in charge of the fire” and “Us Kashubs had never associated with anyone but our own” and “us kids bouncing on the back of the pickup truck were their century marker.”

Other than for Kashubians living in Poland and Kashubian descendants in the Barry’s Bay region, I’m not certain that this book will have much appeal. The intention, to describe the life of Canadian Kashubs in the mid-twentieth century, is laudable, but the execution is less so.

Review of ALL THE WAY GONE by Joanna Schaffhausen (New Release)

 4 Stars

This is the fourth book in the series featuring Annalisa Vega. I certainly enjoyed my latest visit with the intelligent and determined Annalisa.

Annalisa has left the Chicago Police Department and become a private investigator. For her first case, she is hired by Mara Delaney who is anxiously awaiting the publication of her book entitled The Good Sociopath focused on Dr. Craig Canning, a local neurosurgeon. The thesis of her book is that sociopaths can benefit society because they are useful in professions requiring emotional distance. A young woman plunges to her death in Canning’s apartment building, and Mara is worried that her poster-boy for desireable sociopathy may have been involved, thereby threatening the argument of her soon-to-be released book. Annalisa is hired to investigate and hopefully prove that Dr. Canning is indeed what Mara has portrayed him to be: cold-hearted but not homicidal or violent. Annalisa’s investigation convinces her that a clever murder has been committed but Canning insists on his innocence. Where lies the truth?

As in the other books, Annalisa also has some conflict in her personal life. Her remarriage to Nick has brought his teenaged daughter Cassidy into their lives. A typical teenager, Cassidy doesn’t always listen to advice and sets out to help a friend find her mother. This case becomes Annalisa’s second case, but Cassidy sets out to solve it on her own.

Tension builds gradually. Cassidy places herself in danger and Nick and Annalisa have to rush to rescue her. Annalisa, like her stepdaughter, also finds herself in tense encounters with Canning. He realizes why Annalisa is investigating him so a cat-and-mouse game ensues in which they both intrude on each other’s territory. More than once Annalisa faces him alone.

The author has a doctorate in psychology and her knowledge of the workings of the brain is at the forefront. She asks a number of questions: Can sociopaths be good people who make valuable contributions to society or are they “violent predators to be eliminated at all costs”? Can sociopaths be helped or are they “all the way gone”? The book also inspires the reader to consider whether it is justifiable to kill a murderous psychopath if that death actually helps save others?

The plot is complex with a lot of twists, especially at the end. Given the psychological makeup of the characters involved, this complexity seems appropriate. There is a clue about 45% through the book that steered me in the right direction, though I certainly didn’t guess the details.

Though this is the fourth book in the series, it can be read as a standalone because there is enough backstory provided to ensure the reader will not be lost. However, I advise readers to treat themselves and read the previous three books (Gone for Good, Long Gone, and Dead and Gone) first.

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

Review of THE SPOILED HEART by Sunjeev Sahota

3.5 Stars

Nayan Olak is running for election for the position of general secretary of the largest labour union in central England. Forty-two years of age, he began as a factory worker but has been involved in union advocacy for decades. For Nayan, the union has become the centre of his life after a tragedy two decades earlier. Now divorced and caring for his aging father who is suffering with dementia, he starts a relationship with Helen Fletcher who has returned to the neigbourhood with her son. Nayan’s opponent is Megha Sharma, younger and better educated but with less experience, though she is serving as the first head of diversity, equality and inclusion. She shares Nayan’s Indian ethnicity but comes from a wealthier class.

Clashing visions of the union’s future lead to a vicious and destructive campaign. Nayan believes in broad economic reforms to benefit working people while Megha focuses on specific initiatives to address injustices against oppressed groups. The campaign becomes a series of ad hominem attacks where Nayan is labelled a racist and misogynist and Megha, an out-of-touch and divisive elite.

The narrator is Sajjan, a former neighbour of Nayan. A novelist, he is fascinated with Nayan’s story and meets with him years after the events to get his version of what happened during the election and his relationship with Helen. He thinks that he may be able to retell Nayan’s story in a novel. Sajjan is not just a narrator; he acts as a detective gradually unravelling the truth of what happened to Nayan and others involved in his life.

This narrative choice means that the information Sajjan provides is second-hand and there are suggestions that Nayan’s version of events may not always be reliable. Sajjan suspects that Nayan is not always totally honest; at one point he refers to Nayan’s “doctored version.” The truthfulness of the story Sajjan tells is also compromised when it seems that his parents were involved in Nayan’s past.

There is considerable suspense. There’s the outcome of the election of course. But then there are suggestions that Helen may have played a greater role in Nayan’s past than he suspects. Though Helen is a home health care aide, why does she refuse to accept Nayan’s father as a client and avoid any contact with him? Though Nayan and Sajjan meet “several years” after the election year, at first Sajjan is given only “glimpses of a truth [Nayan] couldn’t yet bear to voice”; only at the end are dark secrets revealed.

The novel is like a tragedy telling the story of a man’s ruin, both personal and professional, and explores whether the downfall is self-inflicted or caused by societal issues. Nayan’s character is well-developed. He’s a good man who has suffered, but he is flawed and there is certainly a degree of hubris that contributes to his heart being spoiled.

The book also examines how a few words or a single careless action can have unintended and unimaginable consequences. The toxic effects of social media are also detailed.

Though the discussion of election issues is sometimes heavy-handed, I enjoyed the book - as I did Sahota’s earlier novel, China Room (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/01/review-of-china-room-by-sunjeev-sahota.html).

Review of LAST NIGHT AT VILLA LUCIA by Simon McCleave (New Release)

2.5 Stars

Though Simon McCleave has written 30 novels, this is the first time I’ve read one. This is his first standalone, not one of his DI Ruth Hunter, DC Ruth Hunter Murder File, or Anglesey series. Unfortunately, I was not impressed.

After a divorce from her husband Nick, Cerys Williams now owns a Tuscan villa which she operates as a B&B with the help of Lucia and Lorenzo, a couple who live nearby. Cerys struggles with alcoholism though she tries to hide her drinking from her daughter Lowri who is staying with her for a while. Guests arrive from England: Harry and Zoe and their son Charlie. Harry, who is described by family members as “a selfish, self-absorbed, predatory bastard” and an “absent, hostile and selfish father,” antagonizes everyone so it’s not surprising that it is his body that is found floating in the pool. The rest of the book focuses on finding who killed Harry.

In many ways this is a locked room mystery, though there is an attempt to suggest someone from outside the villa could have killed Harry while trying to rob the villa. This explanation does not ring true. In fact, the entire police investigation is unrealistic. To eliminate suspects, the police take fingerprints and DNA from everyone at the villa but not from Lucia and Lorenzo who work there? Car keys are apparently stolen but there’s no reference to the car? When Charlie is questioned, his mother is allowed to sit in on one interview but not on a second one?

The author tries very obviously to make everyone a suspect. Multiple points of view (Cerys, Zoe, Lucia) are used to suggest motives for various characters. However, I found it so easy to predict the murderer, especially because of the flashbacks. The fact that there’s such reliance on coincidence to bring characters together affects the novel’s credibility.

Characters are not likeable so it’s difficult to care about them. So many feel they are not being treated fairly. Men in particular are portrayed negatively; both Nick and Harry are controlling and violent, and even Charlie and Lorenzo are described as capable of anger and violent explosions. The women are weak victims; both Cerys and Zoe had long-term relationships with abusive men and did virtually nothing to remove their children from dysfunctional households.

There are both needless repetitions and unanswered questions. Is it necessary to make reference to Lorenzo’s dubious past every time he’s mentioned? How many times must we be reminded that Harry smokes cigars? I understand why but there’s no need to be so obvious. The vehicle that Lucia and Lorenzo see watching their property – in the end we’re just supposed to dismiss it as irrelevant? There’s also the huge plot hole surrounding much of Nick’s behaviour.

This book wasn’t for me. The plotting in terms of red herrings and twists is just so obvious. I prefer mysteries with more nuance. (Potential readers should be aware that the book touches on several serious topics like alcoholism, sexual assault, and domestic abuse.)

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