Review of SMALL FIRES by Ronnie Turner (New Release)

 4 Stars

Though gothic fiction is not my genre of choice, I really enjoyed Ronnie Turner’s So Pretty (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/01/review-of-so-pretty-by-ronnie-turner.html) so was excited to read her next offering. Small Fires I would classify as folklore gothic, combining elements of traditional folklore with classic gothic tropes.

Della and Lily Pedley, suspected of murdering their parents, flee Cornwall in southern England to an island in Scotland known only as The God-Forgotten. Strange events occur on the isolated island and people avoid travelling to it because “bitterness runs through the land like poison in blood.” The Folk on the island seem drawn to Della whereas Lily becomes friends with Silas, the publican, and Kit, a visiting geologist. Silas and Kit are different from the rest of the islanders; they don’t seem to live with the same fear that permeates every aspect of the lives of the Folk. Lily is curious and becomes interested in the local stories, especially those about the Warden that the Folk always try to appease. It is soon obvious that “’stories are never simply stories.’”

The island is very much a character in the novel. The opening sentence is “They say the Devil came here.” When the sisters arrive, Lily comments on the silence over the land and the dark mountain casting shadows; she even thinks “This land smells of death.” Kit speaks of the island having “’So much history. All of it bad.’” What is emphasized is that the island is full of legends; Silas, who was born on the island and has lived there all his life, thinks of it as a godless place “Where nothing but stories grow.”

And the inhabitants are a strange lot; they have a religion about the Devil whom they call the Warden; they are variously described as mad and deluded but what stands out is their fear. Kit comments that they live in constant fear because of their beliefs about the Warden which are passed down via their old, ominous legends: “’I’m not saying I don’t think there is something rotten here. There is. But it’s something these people have grown themselves.’” Later, she states, “’There is no illness like the illness of the mind. They think they have a devil. I think they have groomed themselves into a delusion.’” Is Kit correct or is there evil on the island?

The narrative alternates between two perspectives – that of Lily in first person and that of Silas in third person. Whenever there’s a reliance on first person narration, I always question whether the narrator is reliable. For instance, because Lily definitely portrays her sister in a negative light, I kept wanting Della’s point of view. Can Lily be trusted if children react to her with “such fear in their unblemished faces” and her own mother called her Little Wolf? Can Lily be innocent if she admits “We murdered our parents”? Yet Silas’s opinion of Della confirms Lily’s; when he sees Della for the first time, he describes her: “The tall one has long fingers, a thick neck inches wider than his own. A beast among men” and from Lily’s behaviour, he concludes she is frightened of Della. Certainly point of view was carefully chosen to keep the reader uncertain.

Imagery is used very purposefully and effectively. There are frequent references to bones, blood, shadows, ghosts, and animals. For instance, “The sun has not yet risen, so the bonfire is their sun, and it puts violence in the shadows and makes them all look like they have beasts inside their skins” and “the clouds are dark like blood when it dries” and “She is outside somewhere, picking through the darkness like a tick on a body” and “He has ghosts inside his eyes. Such hungry ghosts.”

I had difficulty imagining the time period of the novel. It is not until reference is made to an online article, that it’s clear this is a contemporary story. Regardless, I often pictured an earlier time. Rituals like the Tithing made me think of the short story “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson. Perhaps the vagueness of time is intentionally used to emphasize timeless themes.

The themes are about generational trauma, the power of stories, and identity. The first two are developed from the beginning. The theme of identity appears later with statements like “’Identity is a powerful thing’” and “’I don’t think you can ever know someone. We are all wearing faces to get through the world. We are all pretending, slipping on new identities’” and “’I have a different skin for every pair of eyes. Sometimes even I am confused.’”

With its constant sense of foreboding, this book is an unsettling read. As I mentioned at the beginning, gothic fiction is not a favourite for me, but this book offers more than an eerie atmosphere. It is well-written and its themes are thought-provoking.

Review of PRECIOUS CARGO by Craig Davidson

3 Stars 

Memoirs are not my genre of choice but this was a book club selection. Given its appearance on the shortlist for Canada Reads in 2018, with its theme of One Book to Open Your Eyes, I was expecting more.

Depressed and broke, Davidson took a job as a school bus driver and spent one school year driving five special-needs students. We meet Nadja, Oliver, Gavin, Vincent, and Jake and see snippets of their time on the bus during which they tell stories and jokes, tease each other, laugh together, and bond. As a result of getting to know these teenagers and seeing how society treats people viewed as disabled, he re-evaluates his life: “The physical truth is that I drove you. The deeper truth is that you drove me. Drove me to step out of my own sickened skin, to stop feeling sorry for myself and to see the world for its beauties more than its agonies.”

As I’ve already mentioned, I was wanting more from this book. In particular, I wanted more of the five students and less of the bus driver. I wanted more stories of the interactions between the driver and his passengers. Except for Jake with whom Davidson had a relationship outside his job, it is difficult to remember who is who; there is insufficient differentiation.

There is more telling than showing. Not everything has to be explained. Do we need over a page about how chemically we are all the same because every living thing starts out as carbon, nitrogen, and oxygen? And the life lessons he learns are not exactly profound: we’re all people deserving of respect despite our differences; we need to make the best of what life gives us; and life is sometimes unfair. Basically he learns to have empathy for others and to appreciate his own life.

I didn’t dislike the author, but I wasn’t overly impressed with him either. At first he was whiny and full of self-pity; I expect a writer to understand human nature and be capable of self-reflection, but that’s certainly not the case at the beginning. Then, though he did try to make the times on the school bus pleasant for all and his actions show acceptance of and respect for everyone, I detected a self-congratulatory tone for being such a good driver to these students and then expecting praise for learning rather obvious lessons about life.

What really bothered me is Davidson’s dropping out of Jake’s life. He speaks of the relationship he developed with Jake, but once the school year is over, he never sees him again? Surely both Jake and Calvin would have appreciated Davidson’s further involvement in Jake’s life. This behaviour made me question Davidson’s sincerity. Did he use the five passengers as fodder for his writing and then just abandon them once they had served their purpose?

The inclusion of excerpts from “The Seekers” serves little purpose. Yes, the unpublished novel does include the five as lead characters/heroes in a narrative, but these sections interrupt the flow of the narrative. Were it the writing of one of the gang I’d have been more interested. Davidson does say that both Vincent and Jake “could end up as writers.”

In the end, I have greater respect for school bus drivers. Given the level of their responsibilities, I think they are underpaid. Not only must they keep their passengers safe, they’re expected to understand their personalities and needs. I understand why there’s a shortage of people for those positions.

This is not a bad book, but I wanted more depth, not just surface-level life lessons, and I’d have enjoyed learning more about the precious cargo.

Review of A HOUSE FOR MISS PAULINE by Diana McCaulay (New Release)

 4 Stars

This novel focuses on a strong female protagonist, 99-year-old Pauline Sinclair, whom the reader will not soon forget.

Pauline has spent her entire life in Mason Hall, a rural Jamaican village. She believes she is not long for the world when the stones of her house begin to shift and she hears voices which she thinks are telling her “there’s atonement to be made”: “mebbe me can set tings right before ma time come.” As she considers what she must do, she reflects on her life and so the reader learns about her past. Self-educated, she raised two children with her beloved Clive and supported her family by becoming a ganja farmer. But there are secrets she has kept hidden from everyone and these are the ones she must now reveal to those she feels she has wronged. With the help of her granddaughter Justine and Lamont, a local teenager, she finds these people to make amends but also ends up discovering much she did not know.

It’s impossible not to like Pauline. Fiercely independent, she does not allow anyone to tell her how to live. She understands that many would dismiss her because she can be perceived as “Black, female, old, rural, foreign, poor, powerless, friendless, uneducated,” but she demands the respect she believes she deserves; certainly the last four adjectives do not apply to her. Even as a young girl, she was defiant and took decisive action against a predatory man, leaving a strong message: “That is for me an evry odda girl you ever put you nasty, dutty hand on.” Her life has not been easy, but she persevered and became a community builder and elder. Though not formally educated, she is very intelligent and thoughtful, reflecting on her own actions and on the legacy of slavery in Jamaica.

Though fierce and feisty, there is a softer side to Pauline. Her granddaughter thinks she shares the same hard heart as her grandmother, but Pauline counters, “’Ma heart not hard but ma spine strong. Sometime folks mix up them two tings.’” She does indeed show her heart in her interactions with others, especially in her relationship with Lamont. She sees his vulnerability behind his exterior and virtually adopts him as family. She also has a sense of humour, taking pride in her ability to be as foulmouthed as anyone: “If this man thinks he can win a swearing contest, he’s mistaken.”

The book examines the complex history of colonialism and slavery. Pauline uses stones from the old plantation mansion to build her home and then others in the village do as well. Building homes from the stones enslaved ancestors used to build the backra house is a symbolic reclamation of what was stolen from them and a proclamation that, though the white slave owner is gone, they have survived: “Backra house, the slavery ruin in the forest, where people, her people, her ancestors, toiled and died – no, were murdered – yet became a sanctuary for her.”

Pauline thinks about the meaning of land and its ownership: “Land is what bring the white people here an what mek them capture the Black people an force them clear it an plant it.” She decides that “Home . . . is the land. Not the house. The land will never turn against her.” Land for her is not a commodity; it’s the place that has shaped her identity. But to be at peace she wishes to “settle for herself the question of who owns the land on which her house sits.” Others may have ownership papers for the land but doesn’t her and her ancestors’ intimate and historical connection to the land give her some right to it?

Pauline and other characters speak in Jamaican patwa. This adds realism, but I did sometimes experience some difficulty with some words. I think listening to an audiobook version read by someone familiar with the language would be a good experience.

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

Review of NESTING by Roisín O’Donnell (New Release)

4 Stars 

Set in Dublin in 2018, this novel highlights the harsh realities of life faced by women wanting to escape from intimate partner abuse.

Ciara Fay makes a spontaneous decision to leave her psychologically abusive husband Ryan, taking her daughters, 4-year-old Sophie and 2-year-old Ella, with her. With no financial means or network of support, they end up living in a hotel room on a floor reserved for unhoused families like hers. She faces so many obstacles as she tries to make a new life for herself and her children.

The novel focuses on emotional rather than physical abuse. Thus far Ryan has never hurt her though he has coerced her to have sex. His abuse is more subtle and so more difficult to convey or prove. On the surface he is handsome and a good provider; he shows the world only his attentiveness towards his family. Ciara knows that “his kindness is a choice. A decision he makes in order to achieve an end.” In private he is totally domineering. Prone to unpredictable outbursts of anger, he targets his wife. He controls the family finances, monitors Ciara’s movements, isolates her from family and friends, and belittles her so any self-confidence is totally undermined.

Ciara faces so many obstacles. Having been financially dependent on Ryan, she has few savings to provide for herself and her children. Finding housing proves to be a never-ending search. She has no support system in Dublin and has to navigate bureaucratic red tape. Her attempts to find housing and a job are complicated by her having to look after two young children. Her discovery that she is pregnant only adds to her difficulties.

And of course there’s the emotional toll. She is disheartened, confused, and fearful. Ryan’s gaslighting has sown self-doubt in Ciara’s mind so she is often questioning her judgment and decision: Is leaving the right thing to do or should she go back as she did once before? She and other women like her come to learn that “’Leaving is one thing, but saying away is another.’” Ryan pressures her to return. Feeling she has lost herself, the only voice she hears in her mind is Ryan’s. And there’s the shame she feels because of her situation and because she placates Ryan for fear of what he might do.

I found this a very tense read because I was totally invested in the fate of Ciara and her children. Ryan is a volatile character so every encounter with Ryan is fraught with danger: how will he threaten and intimidate her? Will Ciara be able to find appropriate housing and support her family? Will she be able to overcome Ryan’s brainwashing, fight his manipulation, and find the courage to stay away?

Some of the symbolism is heavy-handed. There’s the nestling crow that Ryan brings home, supposedly to help it. Despite odds, it survives, but ends up a captive. Kept on a tether, it becomes something Ryan can control. He seems to have no real affection for it; instead, the crow becomes a source of entertainment. Obviously the crow’s life parallels Ciara’s, as does its fate at the end.

This is a disturbing but compelling read. There is no doubt that it is a realistic portrayal of the almost impossible odds a woman can face if she makes the life-altering choice to leave an abusive relationship.

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

Review of THE QUIET LIBRARIAN by Allen Eskens (New Release)

 4 Stars

Why do librarians wear cardigans? The answer often given is that sweaters cover up their superhero disguises.

The protagonist of this novel, Hana Babić, is a timid, middle-aged librarian called “The Sweater Lady” by children who frequent the library. In many ways that cardigan is indeed a disguise, one which has helped her hide “terrible secrets” and remain largely invisible. The peaceful life Hana has cultivated for 30 years comes unraveled when David Claypool, a homicide detective, arrives to inform her that her best friend Amina has died in mysterious circumstances. Amina has left her 8-year-old grandson Dylan in Hana’s care.

Amina’s death forces Hana to remember her life in Bosnia where she lived as Nura Divjak. She focuses on her memories during the Bosnian War. In 1995, when Hana is 17, Serbian soldiers arrive at her farm. The events motivate her to join a band of Bosniak militia fighters. Hana wants to uncover the person responsible for Amina’s death but she worries that the police investigation will also uncover her real identity and past actions.

There is a dual timeline. Chapters alternate between the present in Minnesota and the past, primarily 1995 in Bosnia. Both timelines use the third-person limited omniscient point of view, though Hana’s chapters use the present tense and Nura’s chapters use the past tense.

I found both sections equally intriguing. Though it’s obvious that Nura survives events in Bosnia, she often finds herself in life-threatening situations and it’s obvious she will not escape unscathed either physically or psychologically. In Hana’s sections, the outcome is more uncertain. Because of her past she faces danger in the present, and there’s the added responsibility to protect Dylan. Both timelines are intense so my interest never lagged.

The decisions made at the end struck me as less plausible. I was convinced by Hana’s choices because of her past but the detective’s actions are less realistic. Because the reader gets to know Hana so well, her behaviour is understandable; that is not the case with the police detective. Overall, the romance element is questionable, though I understand its necessity in the narrative. I did also appreciate the author’s including a conversation about David’s wanting to make a difference and not “’just going through the motions’” and the danger of “’crossing the line.’” This discussion is, I think, intended as foreshadowing.

Of course the ending is thought-provoking. The reader will definitely think about the justification of killing another human being: Is the premeditated killing of a person justified if s/he threatens the safety of others? Is it acceptable to take justice into one’s own hands if justice has not been achieved by legal means? Should a person be held accountable for all actions in wartime? Is revenge ever justifiable?

This book combines historical fiction and crime drama with some thriller and romance elements. It’s my first novel by this author, but I will certainly be checking out his backlist. My husband and I visited Bosnia-Herzegovina in the fall of 2018 and we saw evidence of the war in our tour of the country, but I have not read many novels set in this country during the Bosnian War. I will certainly be recommending this one.

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

Review of THE QUEENS OF CRIME by Marie Benedict (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This novel is set in 1931 in London during the Golden Age of Detective Fiction.

Dorothy Sayers, a founding member of the Detection Club, invites Agatha Christie, Margery Allingham, Ngaio Marsh, and Emma Orczy to join. Feeling that they are not fully accepted by the men in the club, the women mystery writers, calling themselves the Queens of Crime, set out to prove their worth by solving a real mystery. May Daniels was a young nurse who vanished on a day visit to France. She was last seen walking into a women’s washroom in a train station in Boulogne-sur-Mer; months later her body is found in a nearby wooded area. The five women begin their investigation by tracing May’s last days and interviewing all people with whom she’d had some contact in that time.

As expected from Benedict, the novel is well researched. There’s a great blending of fact and fiction. The Detection Club did exist and four of the women were actual members collectively called the Queens of Crime. Only Emma Orczy’s membership is an added fictional element. Details of the women’s lives, like Christie’s disappearance and her difficult relationship with her sister, are incorporated into the narrative. The blurb even mentions that the book was “inspired by a true story in Sayers’ own life.”

Unfortunately, I found that other than Sayers and Christie, the women remain two-dimensional. Sayers is the narrator so we see more of her personality and learn more about her, including a dark secret, and Christie also has more clearly delineated traits and a more complete backstory. (Of course Benedict did pen a previous book, The Mystery of Mrs. Christie, so a more complex development of Christie’s character would be expected.) The others tend to be differentiated with one trait: Emma is the older, prim and proper aristocrat; Ngaio is the unconventional one in both dress and attitude; and Margery is the enthusiastic youngest.

The mystery has the characteristics of a classic whodunit. There’s a locked room mystery, the bungling of dim-witted police, red herrings, and a gathering of suspects at the end. I found much of the plot predictable; there is only a handful of characters so the number of suspects is limited. What irked is how every conversation presents a clue which moves the investigation forward. Unfortunately, there are unanswered questions at the end: How did the writer of the note to Sayers know her secret? What exactly happened to the violinist? Then there are the unrealistic elements: The owner of a cafe knows the contents of an autopsy report? The letter written by May is totally unrealistic. She wants to leave evidence but names no one and leaves it in such a strange location?! I hate such artificial contrivances.

The book emphasizes the challenges the five female writers face in a male-dominated field but also looks at women’s struggles in society. May’s murder is investigated only superficially as if there’s a reluctance to devote time and resources for the death of a woman. To make matters worse, May’s reputation is smeared and she’s even blamed for her own death. Even female witnesses are dismissed by the police. After the end of World War I, women were expected to give back their jobs to returning servicemen and to revert to traditional domestic roles but there was a paucity of marriageable men because so many had been killed. These unmarried women were called “surplus” and were especially scorned if they sought employment to support themselves – though they had no other choice. Women’s reputation could be damaged by any misstep; even a choice of clothes could define a wearer as “loose.” An illegitimate pregnancy would result in damning both the mother and child’s reputations and their ability to earn a living. My objection is not to this theme but to the sometimes heavy-handed way in which it’s developed. Is it really necessary to have Sayers say, “’Never forget that we women aren’t what you call us – witches or crones or madwomen or surplus or nobodies. We are all Queens’”?

I’m certain this book will appeal to many, especially readers of Benedict’s historical fiction and of classic whodunits like those written by the five women featured in this novel. I found it entertaining but not exceptional.

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

Review of END OF AUGUST by Paige Dinneny (New Release)

 4 Stars

This is a very impressive debut novel.

Teenaged Aurora Taylor arrives with her mother Laine in Monroe, Indiana, for the funeral of Jay, Gran’s husband. Aurora assumes it’ll be a short stay since her mother hates Monroe, has a contentious relationship with Gran, and has a history of never staying long in one place. In her 15 years Aurora has lived in 18 towns since her mother tends to make poor relationship choices and then leaves town when things become difficult; Aurora describes Laine as “a mother who preferred to leave when things got hard,” teaching her daughter to “avoid the problem, and hope it fixes itself.”

The stay in Munroe, however, continues longer than expected because Laine becomes involved with a married man with a family. As a result, Aurora has time to make a friend, get a part-time job, and experience first love. Though she finds a measure of happiness, she believes it’ll be only a matter of time before her mother packs them up once again and Aurora will have to leave everything behind.

Aurora is the narrator and the character about whom the reader will come to care. In many ways she is much more mature than her mother. She’s the sensible one who is surprisingly resilient, although she is also vulnerable. Her nomadic life has left her longing for stability and belonging; she wants a home. She knows her mother and understands how her family is dysfunctional and how they are viewed by people in the small town. Her greatest fear is “becoming my mother’s daughter” because she believes “In the end, we become our parents.” She even dislikes the fact that people keep telling her she looks so much like her mother. Certainly she feels guilty by association, knowing people will judge her by her mother’s actions.

The author captures so well the complex emotions of adolescence. There’s Aurora’s insecurity and need to be accepted by others and to have the normal experiences of girls her age. But there’s always her mother overshadowing her life. Aurora is sensitive and kind-hearted: “I did feel guilty about the mess my mother had made and the people it affected. I had a weak stomach when it came to hurting others.” She acknowledges her mixed feelings about her mother, wondering “how you could love someone so much but still want them to leave”: “’I don’t hate her . . . I hate what she’s done, but I don’t hate her. She’s my mom.’”

Laine is a character I found difficult to like or sympathize with. I understand the trauma in her past: “’How about a twelve-year-old spending weekends alone while Mom’s on a bender? Or a sixteen-year-old getting fucked in the back of the bar while Mom sleeps off the night?’” As a result, I would expect her to want to give her daughter a better life than she had. Yet she is so self-centred and selfish that she never really considers her daughter’s needs and desires. Aurora summarizes Laine’s life: “Mom kept busy – work, men, moves – and I was just along for the ride.” Aurora knows her mother “would always choose herself” so she can only “pretend she asked the right questions, pretend she cared about where I was, who I was with, what we did.”

In many ways Laine is much more immature that Aurora who considers the feelings of others, whereas Laine is impulsive and reckless, constantly choosing destructive relationships. In the novel, Aurora grows in understanding herself and Gran acknowledges her mistakes, fights her dependence on alcohol, and prioritizes her granddaughter’s happiness, but Laine remains as emotionally unstable as ever. Nonetheless I did appreciate Gran’s comment that “’Our world is easier on men’” which does emphasize that it is women like Laine who suffer more for poor decisions.

The novel is slow paced but given its focus, that pace is appropriate. The reader is able to fully understand the complexities of characters and their relationships. We can also feel Aurora’s disappointment, hurt, embarrassment, and anger – all emotions her mother’s behaviour elicits. Despite the lack of action, tension does build. How will Laine’s latest relationship end and what will the consequences be for so many others? In this regard, however, I would have preferred there not be a prologue because it gives too much away about what will happen at the end of August.

This is a very poignant book which will not leave the reader unaffected. We delight in Aurora’s newfound happiness but also share her anxiety as she contemplates the ending of that happiness because of her mother’s choices. This is a book I recommend to both adult and young adult readers.  

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

Review of THREE DAYS IN JUNE by Anne Tyler (New Release)

5 Stars 

Once again, Anne Tyler does not disappoint. Her latest novel is as delightful a read as her previous titles.

This book, detailing three days in the life of 61-year-old Gail Baines, begins on a Friday. The day is consequential for Gail: she learns she has been passed over for an expected promotion, her ex-husband Max and a fostered cat arrive on her doorstep, and her daughter Debbie shares a secret about Kenneth, the man she will be marrying the next day. Max’s visit, Debbie’s revelation, the rehearsal dinner, and the wedding the next day leave Gail thinking back on her own marriage and how it came to an end.

As always, Tyler excels at characterization. Gail is eminently relatable, an ordinary woman with both flaws and positive traits. She’s an introvert who is not socially adept; she is told, “’social interactions have never been your strong point.’” She’s a perfectionist who cannot “settle for just okay.” She worries about everything. Max even teases her: “’Do you keep an itemized list of things to worry about? How do you remember them all?’” As befits her career as an educator, Gail lives a planned life: “I ached for it.” She tells Max, “’I don’t feel I have the option of just . . . trying out various random ideas and giving up if they don’t work out.’” It’s also obvious that she’s very sensitive to any perceived slight, like her daughter calling her in-laws before calling her. She gives the impression of competence, but her interior monologue shows her lack of confidence; she describes herself as “too inept, too uninformed. How come there weren’t any grownups around? Why did everyone just assume I knew what I was doing?”

Mild-mannered Max is very much Gail’s foil. He’s not practical like his ex-wife. He seems to have drifted or bumbled through life. He shows up for his daughter’s wedding without a suit. Unlike the judgmental Gail, he’s amiable and tends to see the best in people. It’s impossible to dislike Max and as the narrative progressed, I found myself liking him more and more.

The novel touches on the joys and heartbreaks of love, marriage, and family life. Tyler’s insightfulness cannot but impress. I found myself agreeing with many of her observations, like the one about a woman loving her husband “at least in the on-again-off-again, maybe/maybe-not, semi-happy way of just about any married woman” and the one about “married-couple conversations that continue intermittently for weeks, sometimes, branching out and doubling back and looping into earlier strands like a piece of crochet work.”

And as in other of Tyler’s books, there are touches of humour. In this case, the cat’s interactions with Gail cannot but bring a smile. As a former English teacher, I particularly enjoyed Gail’s correcting people’s grammar: “I decided against telling her that especial was almost not used anymore.” I chuckled at Max’s confusing Kegel pelvic floor exercises with “’doing geckos.’”

At less than 200 pages, this is a quick read, but its economy conveys so much. It may seem simple but it’s so masterfully crafted that nothing feels contrived. It’s an unpretentious but wise novel about imperfect but authentic and appealing people.

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

Review of BLACK WOODS, BLUE SKY by Eowyn Ivey (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This book is being marketed as a dark fairy tale and many readers see it as a re-imagining of “Beauty and the Beast” though there is certainly not a typical fairy tale ending.

Twenty-six-year-old Birdie works as a server in an Alaskan lodge. As a single mother, she has difficulty making ends meet. What she really longs for is freedom in the wilds of nature. Birdie befriends Arthur, a recluse who speaks little and then only uses the present tense. Eventually she takes her six-year-old daughter Emaleen to live with Arthur in his remote cabin. Birdie enjoys her life secluded from the civilized world though Arthur’s behaviour, like disappearing for days without any explanation, is strange. But there are hints that Arthur may be dangerous as well as mysterious.

I found Birdie an almost totally unlikeable character. She wants to escape a place where people judge her behaviour and question her decisions, but she proves to be someone who needs people to oversee her actions. She is an irresponsible parent who puts her own selfish desires above the welfare of her child. She seems incapable of making good decisions. She ignores warnings and warning signs and impulsively makes unrealistic and reckless choices that endanger Emaleen. Excuses are made for her, like her “wanting something extraordinary,” but what stands out is her self-centredness; what matters to Birdie is her own happiness, even if that puts her daughter in harm’s way. There is little real communication with Arthur so there is no real relationship, yet Birdie takes Emaleen to live with him in an isolated cabin? Any reasonable person would see Birdie’s choices as a recipe for disaster: “What kind of mother puts her six-year-old in that impossible situation?”

There are other characters who are also negligent. Della, Warren, and Syd know or suspect much more about Arthur, but their warnings are lukewarm at best. They bear responsibility for what happens (pun intended). Of course, what happens is totally predictable since the message of Birdie’s behaviour seems to be that one cannot fight one’s true nature, in her case that being “drawn to risk and havoc.” If she can’t rein in her free spirit, it’s inevitable that Arthur will not be able to do so either.

There are elements that are worthy of praise. For instance, the writer does excel at descriptions of setting. The Alaskan landscape along with its flora and fauna becomes a character in the book. Though slow paced at the beginning, the book is well-written; the author has a great command of language. There’s symbolism like “One side of his face was lit by the bright moon, the other darkened by the shadows of the trees.” The alternating points of view, especially Emaleen’s, add depth and create suspense.

As the book cover indicates, a bear features prominently in the book.  Syd mentions the many stories of bears found in various cultures: “’Peculiar how similar they are, the stories about bears. . . . Wild sows taking in abandoned human babies and raising them as their own. Women falling in love with boars. Girls being abducted by bears and giving birth to their children in mountain caves.’” Of course I thought of Bear by Marian Engel which I read many years ago and Bear by Julia Phillips which I read just last year. Having encountered bears during nature hikes and berry picking, I don’t share the romantic fascination others have with this wild animal.

As I mentioned from the beginning, this book should be read as a fable or fairy tale so one must be willing to suspend disbelief and appreciate magic realism. I loved fairy tales as a child, but the surreal elements of fantasy no longer appeal to me so I am probably not the best reader for this book.

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