Review of SMALL PLEASURES by Clare Chambers

 4 Stars

After reading and enjoying Shy Creatures, I was inspired to read another novel by this author and so chose this one.

It is set in 1957 in a suburb of London. Jean Swinney, 39, is a feature writer for a local newspaper. When a woman, Gretchen Tilbury, contacts the paper claiming her 10-year-old daughter Margaret is proof of parthenogenesis in humans, Jean is sent to investigate whether Margaret is indeed a miracle child, a virgin birth, or if Gretchen’s story is fraudulent. As Jean works on the story and facilitates medical tests for mother and daughter, her life becomes intertwined with the Tilburys. Gretchen becomes a friend and Margaret, a surrogate daughter. However, it is her relationship with Howard, Gretchen’s husband, that poses problems as the two develop romantic feelings.

What I enjoy about Chambers’ books is the details. In this case, it’s the details of ordinary, everyday domestic life that stand out. Jean performs domestic chores like clearing out the larder, sewing worn sheets sides to middle and soaking old tea towels in borax. Perhaps it’s an element of nostalgia for me: I can see my mother doing those types of tasks when she was a young woman.

There’s a mystery element which certainly kept my interest. What is the truth? Gretchen, during the time of Margaret’s conception, suffered from severe rheumatoid arthritis and was confined to a women’s ward in a convent-run convalescent home. Jean interviews former staff and patients and everyone vouches for Gretchen’s honesty. No one can suggest a rational explanation for her pregnancy. Because the novel is set in a period before DNA testing, Gretchen and Margaret are subjected to a series of tests like serum samples, saliva analysis, and skin grafts, and the results seem to establish a genetic match.

It is impossible not to like Jean. She lives a quiet, lonely life, taking solace in small pleasures: “the first cigarette of the day; a glass of sherry before Sunday lunch; a bar of chocolate parcelled out to last a week; a newly published library book, still pristine and untouched by other hands.” She lives with her neurotic mother who is totally dependent on her, and Jean is certainly a dutiful daughter. At work, she faces the typical problems of a female in a male-dominated profession. Approaching 40, she feels life and love have passed her by. Only after meeting Howard does she begin to feel that her prospects of happiness have not totally vanished.

Then there’s that ending. It is entirely unexpected but, unlike others who have totally disparaged it, I find that it prevents what might have been an overly sentimental resolution. And I appreciate that there is no detailed examination of the emotions resulting from the final event. On the basis of the two novels I’ve read by Clare Chambers, I will definitely be reading others from her backlist.

Review of APRONS AND MOCCASINS by Anne Burchat

 3.5 Stars

Full Disclosure: I’ve known the author since high school so we’ve been friends for over 50 years. I must also add that I’m not an expert on literature for young people.

Lena and Chenoa are two young girls approaching adolescence. Lena has Kashubian heritage, with ancestry traced to northwestern Poland, and Chenoa is an Algonquin, an Indigenous people  traditionally residing in the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence River region of North America. As the two become friends, they discover that, though their backgrounds seem very different, their cultures share many similarities.

It is these similarities that impressed me. Having Kashubian ancestors, I’m familiar with the embroidery and actually own a few pieces, but I had never considered how it is similar with Indigenous beadwork. Lena explains the colours and their meaning as used in traditional Kashubian embroidery, and Chenoa does the same with the colours used for the four directions of the medicine wheel. And there are other comparisons such as sweetgrass and incense.

I like that the girls emerge as distinct personalities. At the beginning, Lena describes Chenoa as being brave enough to try almost everything. And this appraisal is proven correct in Chenoa’s behaviour: fearless, she’s the one who climbs higher and swims faster. Lena is less adventurous. What they share is a love of nature and an interest in their own cultures and that of others.

I think the book would appeal to middle school girls and could be used by teachers or guide leaders. After reading about the stitches used by Lena and Chenoa, girls could have demonstrations in embroidery and beading by people skilled in these types of handwork. Or better yet, allow girls to try both for themselves. The book could be used as an introduction to cultural comparisons. After noting the similarities Lena and Chenoa find between their diverse heritages, students could be asked to look for similarities between their own heritages with those of another person. Other simple exercises could be devised: the two girls discuss the meanings of their names so why not have students explore the meanings and derivations of their names?

And there’s a serious theme that deserves attention. Lena outlines how her ancestors left Prussia in the late 1800s and were granted a plot of land by the Canadian government. On the other hand, Chenoa mentions that the Algonquins have lived on the land for twelve thousand years and though they never signed a treaty, the government claimed their land. Lena has an epiphany: “’We are living on the land of your people. This is not right.’” What a great opening for a meaningful discussion of our history.

I wish the book had more photos of embroidery and beading to help readers visualize and better understand what is being described since not everyone will have familiarity with such handwork. I also did find that sometimes the girls’ dialogue feels unnaturally formal with a lot of exposition. Regardless, this book has much to offer.

Review of SECOND BEST by David Foenkinos

 3.5 Stars

This book has a very interesting premise. It imagines the fate of a fictional 10-year-old boy, Martin Hill, whose life is shaped forever when he loses out to Daniel Radcliffe for the role of Harry Potter in the film versions of the books. Devastated, Martin tries to move on with his life but he can’t escape his feelings of failure.

The book opens with background on Martin’s parents and how he was invited to audition for the role because of his physical resemblance to the character. Then we see him grow from a young teen to a man in his thirties, always struggling with not being the chosen one and being, instead, second best.

Initially I had sympathy for Martin. As soon as the audition invitation is issued, “Martin was looking far off into the future, in terms of the possible consequences of his success.” And he becomes very connected to the character: “Martin was . . . good at imagining something better, good at dreaming about his life instead of living it. No wonder he felt so connected to Harry Potter; he had inherited a sort of incompatibility with reality, an ease with the world of the imaginary.” He is unprepared for the rejection: “Human life can perhaps be summarised as a constant trial through disillusionment, which culminates in a successful, or unsuccessful, way of managing pain. But at the time, Martin was just eleven years old. It was insurmountable. The promise of a marvellous adventure had just been ripped away from him.” And of course, “Soon, there would be no corner of the planet which wouldn’t remind him of this erasing of his destiny.”

My problem is that Martin, for decades, is unable to move on. He is offered help, but he doesn’t take it. “His disappointment at least had the merit of remaining secret,” and he refuses to discuss his failure with anyone. His self-pitying whining goes on and on and becomes so annoying. He does achieve a level of success yet he sees his life only as a failure. He sees the world as a hostile place and so protects himself with solitude. He does meet others who have also found themselves placing second and those stories give him solace, but after a while he reverts to his old behaviours. His lack of growth left me feeling frustrated with him.

In some ways, this book reminded me of another of David Foenkinos’ books, The Mystery of Henri Pick, which also explores how recognition and fame affect people and how people deal with a lack of recognition. I enjoyed the writing style. There are many tangents like the story of Pete Best who is remembered as the man who had almost been a Beatle and a synopsis of the life of J. K. Rowling. I also enjoyed the touches of humour: Jeanne, Martin’s mother, decides to stop trying to convince her son to talk of his feelings, “And it went without saying that she no longer used a broom to sweep the apartment.”

The ending is fairly predictable. Near the beginning, there’s a comment that foreshadows the resolution: “There were, then two ways of considering the same situation.” It just takes Martin a long time to be able to see things from someone else’s perspective and, unfortunately, I found parts of his story repetitive and tedious.

Review of THE WINTER JOB by Antti Tuomainen (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This book is being described as a darkly funny crime caper and, as marketed, it does indeed remind me of the Coen Brothers’ black comedy crime film Fargo. This is not a genre I read often but this novel has its moments.

Christmas 1982 is approaching. Ilmari Nieminen wants to give his daughter a piano as a Christmas gift, but he has no money. Desperate, he takes a job to transport a valuable antique sofa from Helsinki to Kilpisjärvi, the northernmost town in Finland. By chance, he meets a childhood friend, Antero Kuikka, who repairs the wipers on the old, not totally road-worthy van Ilmari is driving on the condition he be able to travel north with him. The two set off but soon discover that they are being followed by a man in a Saab 96 and a couple in an egg-yolk-yellow Lada who are all intent on taking the sofa. Of course, it turns out that Ilmari and Antero are transporting more than a sofa.

The point of view shifts among the occupants of the three vehicles. Ilmari and Antero, as they travel in a light-blue British van, reconnect after not having seen each other for over two decades. In the Lada are two communists, Anneli Kukkorinne and Erkki Liljalampi, who want to steal the sofa to sell it and use the proceeds to promote their cause. The two have worked many missions together but Anneli starts to suspect that her partner may not be totally committed. In the Saab is Otto Puolanka, a psychopath who made me think of Anton Chigurh in the Coens’ film No Country for Old Men. His chapters always open with his thoughts about the place through which he is travelling, thoughts which indicate his personality: “Pitäjänmäki was like a massive fanny: dark, slippery and a mystery to mankind” and “Sparsely populated areas were like parts of the body suffering from an advanced sexually transmitted disease: all sensation had died long ago.”

Readers who enjoy crime capers will find the characteristic elements. There’s generally a light-hearted tone, though there are violent scenes. The fate of Salminen would certainly be appropriate in a Coen Brothers’ film. There’s a misfit crew. Ilmari and Antero are an odd couple but so are Anneli and Erkki. And, of course, things do not go as planned for anyone and these misadventures lead to both tension and humour.

I’m not a fan of physical comedy. There are funny scenes, but for me it’s the more subtle humour that appeals. There are statements like “the Lada’s front tyre met its Soviet maker” and “seeing the sofa in the back of the van was like stumbling upon the Koh-I-Noor diamond in a sweaty changing room.” I enjoyed the music references and the discussions of the soap opera Dallas.

But there are also poignant moments. Ilmari and Antero do have some conversations about family, friendship, and trust. The journey becomes a journey of self-discovery; someone he encounters even tells Ilmari, “’I hope the journey has given you guidance in more than just a geographical sense.’” Ilmari, for instance, admits to how his behaviour led to the breakup of his marriage. Even Anneli comes to see things from a different perspective. And I love the ending: “It was time for a new song.”

This is not the type of book I would ordinarily read, but it will definitely appeal to readers who enjoy a blending of dark humour, suspense, and poignant reflection.

Review of BLACK AS DEATH by Lilja Sigurđardóttir (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This is the fifth installment in the Áróra Investigation series. It is being marketed as the finale since it provides answers to what happened to Áróra’s sister Ísafold.

In the previous book, Dark as Night, Ísafold’s body was discovered as well as that of Björn, the man who was suspected of killing her. Of course the circumstances of her sister’s death continue to haunt Áróra, especially after she learns a detail the police have not made public. As the police continue to investigate the murders, Áróra works on a potential money-laundering case by Kaffikó, an Icelandic coffee chain. It does not take long for the reader to realize that there is a connection between the two cases.

Interspersed throughout the chapters set in the present are flashbacks from Ísafold’s point of view. She describes her life with Björn, her abusive boyfriend. Blinded by love, she finds herself trapped in a life of violence and abuse she chooses not to escape. These sections are very difficult to read because the reader knows her fate. She is offered help and opportunities to escape, but she doesn’t take them, believing that “Everyone had their selfish reasons for everything. Friendship was never just friendship.” It is difficult to comprehend that it takes her so long to see the truth about Björn: “What had been staring her in the face all along, and she’d half chosen to ignore, was now clear as day.” Unfortunately, the situation described is very realistic. Björn exhibits a 3-stage behavioral pattern typical of abusers: a honeymoon phase, tension building, and a violent incident. Then there’s remorse and a promise to change which instills hope.

I know little of the Icelandic justice system but was astonished that a man who admits to a mutilation is set free. Though an investigation continues, he is led to believe only minor charges will result. He knows that “In other countries he would be in prison, on remand, while the police took their time searching for evidence against him.” Is this true? As a Canadian, I was also disturbed to read that photos of people taken when they enter Canada are not used to compare them to their passport photograph but to “’compare them with a list of photographs of wanted people, to check whether the individual is a known terrorist or criminal.’” The CBSA site clearly states that identity confirmation is the purpose of airport photos.

At the end, the circumstances of Ísafold’s death are explained. There is a sense of closure for Áróra because she learns the truth: “for the first time since she received the fateful phone call when her mother told her that her sister had disappeared, Áróra felt able to breathe fully, deep down into the bottom of her lungs, so that the oxygen flowed through her veins, to her muscles and her heart. She was free.”

For the reader, however, the ending is somewhat open-ended. I’ve enjoyed the company of Helena, Sirri, Bisi, and Lady Gúgúlú, but their stories are just dropped. All make an appearance in the novel, but I found myself wanting more. And then, of course, there’s Daníel!?

Those who have followed the series will certainly want to read this book. Those who haven’t should begin with Cold as Hell, and continue with Red as Blood, White as Snow, and Dark as Night before reading Black as Death.

Review of TETHERED SPIRITS: WIAQTAQNE'WASULTIJIK NA KJIJAQMIJINAQ by Corinne Hoebers (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This historical fiction book is set near Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, in the mid-1700s.

Christian Heber, the son of German settlers, is taken in by a Mi’kmaw family and renamed Bear Cub. He immerses himself in their culture, learns their language, and develops a deep bond with them, especially his “brother” Eagle Feather, and “sister” Singing Sparrow. Meanwhile his sister Hanna befriends a Mi’kmaw man and begins to question the settlers’ ownership of the land they are claiming as they build on it. Her sister Elizabeth and father Michael see the Mi’kmaq as savages who need to be removed.

Christian/Bear Cub has a conflict: he is torn between two families and cultures. He feels obligated to his birth family, but he has come to love and respect his Mi’kmaw family. Obviously, he disagrees with Michael’s views of the Indigenous Peoples though he does feel duty-bound to help his father on his farm. It is the way of life of the Mi’kmaq that appeals to Bear Cub: living off the land following the cycles of the seasons and taking only what they need to survive. Theirs is a cooperative society in which all life is interdependent. The newcomers, on the other hand, “allowed fear to rule, avarice to prosper, and biased assumptions to sprout.”

A major theme is indicated by the title. When leaving his sister Hanna, Christian tells her that, though they may be far from each other, “’the tether is never severed, only stretched.’” Later when they speak again, he tells her, “’We cannot sever that which we are all born with – spirit. Everybody and everything are one.’” And adds that “’A love must be secure enough to allow the freedom to change.’”

And change is another theme. Bear Cub is told that, “’Nothing is constant. It is the present form that changes.’” Morning Dove, Singing Sparrow’s mother, teaches her daughter that “’we are always in a state of fluidity as we move through life, adapting to whatever falls across our path.’” Morning Dove repeats this message to her husband: “’To survive, we must adapt to life’s challenges and transformations.’”

Knowing the fate of the Mi’kmaq, I found the book very sad. They try to adapt to the newcomers, but the settlers carry on without concern for the original peoples: “’All regulated and named under British specifications. All this has happened as if the Mi’kmaq not exit.’” As settlements expand, the Mi’kmaq are displaced and forced to retreat: “the New Englanders continued to fish exorbitantly for profit. With the animal migrations changing and shrinking, the past Winter had seen times of malnutrition, starvation, and disease in several communities.” Christian tries to convince his father Michael to see that the settlers are repeating the tyranny they tried to escape: “’Eugen, devoid of any respect, rode roughshod over us with no thought of our worthiness, and now the Mi’kmaw territories are being confiscated by the same government you have put all your hopes into. Their lives are slowly being snuffed out by our greed, as we cut off their sustenance, river by river.’”

I did find the book rather wordy. I admire the author’s research, but sometimes too much extraneous information is given. These information dumps make the book read like a history text. For instance, when Singing Sparrow is working on porcupine quillwork, we are told, “Goldthread for the colour yellow, elderberries for black, the bark of dogwood for blue, and bayberry and larkspur for green. There was orange dye still left over from the bloodroot that had been harvested in the Spring, and brown from acorns.” Battles are detailed: “’The British began bombarding us. The Bienfaisant was captured and the Prudent burned. Just a week before our surrender, three of our ships caught fire. Then the fortress headquarters burned. Drucour surrendered on July twenty-sixth.’” The following sounds like a history lesson: “Quebec, the capital of New France, had fallen on September thirteenth. Both the British and French commanders-in-chief, Generals James Wolfe and Louis-Joseph de Montcalm, had died in battle.” Do we really need to be told that the blade in the sawmill sawed “at a hundred and fifty strokes a minute”? The many political discussions are just tedious.

Though I’m posting my review later, I actually finished this book on September 30, Canada’s National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. Though this book does not directly address residential schools, it does shine a light on how the lives of Indigenous Peoples were negatively impacted by the arrival of Europeans and so is a worthy read.

Note: I gather that this book is actually a sort of sequel to Call of a Distant Shore which tells the story of Elizabeth and her family and their emigration to Canada.

Review of DEADMAN'S POOL by Kate Rhodes (New Release)

 4 Stars

Though this is my first book by this author, I’ve learned that this is actually the eighth book in the Isles of Scilly Mysteries.

DI Ben Kitto unearths the body of a young Vietnamese girl buried near ruins on the island of St Helen’s. With no connection to anyone on the “tiny archipelago with less than two thousand souls,” Ben suspects that she may have been the victim of human trafficking. As Ben and his team investigate and try to find the person responsible, they come to believe that there may be another girl being held captive somewhere, so locating her adds extra urgency.

Most of the novel focuses on Ben’s perspective. The reader follows the investigation from his point of view and sees his struggles: foul weather, an antagonistic supervisor, and people keeping secrets. We also learn about Ben’s home life with his wife Nina and their one-year-old son Noah. Though there are some tensions, it is home that provides Ben with stability and a respite from his work. His love for Nina and Noah is very evident.

There are also brief interludes from the point of view of Mai, a sixteen-year-old Vietnamese girl who has been held captive by a man for six years. She has recently given birth to a son Lao whom the man has taken away. I found her sections a harrowing read though her descriptions of all she has endured ensure that the reader becomes invested in her fate. She emerges as an amazingly strong person. Her parents taught her about kien, a word meaning “strength and resilience, the ability to survive disasters” and she certainly proves to possess those traits. In the end what is also impressive is her choice to put the protection of others ahead of her own safety.

Not having encountered Ben before, I enjoyed learning about him. He’s obviously intelligent and skilled at his job, but what stands out is his determination; “I need to know exactly what happened or her image will stain my memory forever.” He admits that he likes to do things at his own pace, but it’s clear that he will let nothing stand in his way. His boss is demanding and not especially supportive, but Ben perseveres. When he needs to question the islands’ power holders, he doesn’t hesitate. I also appreciated Ben’s comment about his “blunt communication style.”

The book has the reader playing detective along with Ben and his team. Because we are given Mai’s perspective, we know a bit about the perpetrator (such as his claim that music gives his life balance) and the type of place where she is being held captive, so as each man is questioned and his property searched, I asked myself whether he could be the one holding Mai captive. Of course there are several men whose musical interests are mentioned and almost everyone has an old shed or cellar or access to an abandoned building that could serve as a hiding spot. Several men behave suspiciously but then they have seemingly credible explanations. Teenagers spread rumours about a cabal of influential people involved in human trafficking. So there are many potential suspects. About three-quarters of the way through the novel, I had strong suspicions - which proved to be correct - but I wasn’t convinced and was strongly motivated to continue to the end. I appreciate when an author follows the fair play doctrine.

The book is a page turner. With the discovery of the body at the beginning, my interest was captured and it never waned thereafter. I was concerned for Mai’s fate as soon as she was introduced, but suspense ramped up when the case takes a personal turn for Ben and there really is a race against time.

I love touring islands. I love Canada’s Les Îles-de-la-Madeleine; Croatia’s islands such as Pag, Krk, and Korčula; Ireland’s Inis Mór and Skellig Michael; Holland’s Texel; Scotland’s Skye and Iona; and Denmark’s Faroe Islands. The author paints such a vivid picture of the Isles of Scilly and their sense of community that they have been added to my bucket list of places to visit.

I will have to backtrack and read the first seven Isles of Scilly books when time allows, but I will definitely read any books that continue the series.

Review of THE HOWLING by Michael J. Malone (New Release)

 3 Stars

This is the third in the Annie Jackson Mystery series after The Murmurs and The Torments.

Annie and her brother Lewis search for the long-lost son of Sylvia Lowry-Law because Sylvia says that finding him will help end Annie’s curse. (Like other female ancestors, Annie hears murmurs accompanied by shocking visions of the imminent deaths of people she encounters. The horror of these visions is intensified because there is nothing she can do to prevent the deaths.) Annie and Lewis’ investigations lead to an ancient and secretive organization, The Order, which has information which could destroy the lives and reputations of many powerful people who will do anything to protect their secrets and wealth.

I must preface my review by stating that I’m not a fan of gothic literature, the horror genre or supernatural thrillers, so I’m not the intended audience for this book. I have difficulty suspending disbelief since I do not believe in curses, hexes, or animal possession. And the idea of any of those things being passed on through generations, like hereditary traits, I find unbelievable.

Specifically in this book, I had difficulty believing in The Order whose machinations are described as mind-boggling with plans that run for years, decades, and even centuries. I understand powerful people wanting to suppress damaging information (Epstein Files), but the idea that people will put schemes into place that will outlive them is too far-fetched for me. There are also the elements of Satanic worship (goat’s head, inverted cross) which are never explained. Is The Order a Satanic cult?

The novel does emphasize that the past cannot be escaped. So many of the characters are directly affected by people and events in the past. In the first two books, the connections among females in a familial lineage are stressed; now males are also shown to share supernatural traits with ancestors. For instance, Drew shares a connection with a boy named Andra who lived in the early 18^th century. I found Andra’s chapters lacking in suspense because it’s clear from the beginning what will happen.

There are some plot holes which bother me. Why would Joan Torrans help two strangers who show up at her door and even take them to the law office? The police are so inept and/or understaffed that they don’t investigate suspicious deaths and accidents? Everyone accepts Annie’s curse without question, as if magic or the occult or supernatural powers are an everyday part of life? How do Annie and Lewis learn Drew’s name? And they seem to jump to the conclusion that a certain person is the mastermind behind what is happening. Just because they pick up a random file which names this person, they assume he’s the leader? Why would Annie’s murmurs be affected by her not being able to see and how would someone know they would be if she doesn’t? We are to believe that Lewis loves Clare, but he seems to almost forget about her during much of the investigation even when she should be a constant worry?

I’m surely an outlier here. I’ve read only rave reviews of this book. As I mentioned at the beginning, I’m not a lover of books with strong gothic, horror or supernatural elements. Those who like those genres will find a lot to enjoy: witchcraft, animal possession, lost and secret family, eerie and dark settings, threats against vulnerable characters, overtones of the occult, etc. It is to those readers that I will recommend this book.

Review of WHAT WE CAN KNOW by Ian McEwan (New Release)

 4.5 Stars

This book has been described as speculative fiction, social commentary, and a literary detective story. Regardless of how it’s classified, if it’s written by Ian McEwan, I know it’ll be worth reading.

There are dual timelines just over a century apart. In 2014 at his wife Vivian’s birthday dinner attended by a few friends, renowned poet Francis Blundy reads aloud a sequence of 15 sonnets, a corona, he wrote for her. The poem is never published; Vivian is given the only copy. For generations people have speculated about this corona, a copy of which has never been found, but it is generally regarded as the great lost poem of the climate crisis.

In 2119, in the aftermath of a hydrogen bomb disaster in 2042, much of the western world has been submerged by rising seas and Britain is now an archipelago. In the south of what used to be England, Thomas Metcalfe, a humanities scholar, has dedicated himself to finding “A Corona for Vivian.” He pores over print and digital archives and considers himself an expert on the lives of Francis and Vivian Blundy: “I know all that they knew – and more, for I know some of their secrets and their futures, and the dates of their deaths.” When led to a site which he believes is the hiding spot for the corona, he uncovers a truth he had not expected.

This first part of the novel is narrated by Thomas in the first person. He makes clear that he is captivated by Vivian, so much so that his relationship with his partner Rose is affected. Besides his obsession with the poem, he has an almost obsessive nostalgia for Francis and Vivian’s time period which is, of course, our era: “The Blundys and their guests lived in what we would regard as a paradise. There were more flowers, trees, insects, birds and mammals in the wild . . . The wines . . . were superior to ours, their food was certainly more delicious and varied and came from all over the world. The air they breathed was purer and less radioactive. Their medical services . . . were better resourced and organized.”

It is this re-creation of our era as seen from a dystopian future which I found very interesting. Thomas summarizes our time: “What brilliant invention and bone-headed greed. . . . people flying 2,000 miles for a one-week vacation . . . razing ancient forests to make paper to wipe their backsides . . . they watched amazed as the decades sped by and . . . the weapons proliferated and they did little, even as they knew what was coming and what was needed.” The term Derangement is used, “a shorthand for the usual list of global heating’s consequences . . . [but the term also hints] at collective responsibility for our innate cognitive bias in favour of short-term comfort over long-term benefits. Humanity itself was deranged.” Thomas also comments that in that past, “many of humanity’s problems would have been solved. When too few understood how sublime their natural and man-made worlds were.” Rose argues that Thomas ignores the past’s “squalor and cruelty and morbid greed” and lists a litany of problems with our behaviour: “The stupidity and waste . . . the nastiness of social media, then run for profit rather than as a public service . . . the self-serving short-sightedness or plain folly or mendacity or viciousness of political leaders . . . the quiescence or craven idiocy or terror of their populations . . . people’s careless love of autocrats . . . the poisons they left in the oceans, the forests they stole, the soils and rivers they ruined and the Derangement they acknowledged but would not prevent.” The message for us is abundantly clear.

As the title suggests, the novel asks what we can really know. Thomas is convinced of his knowledge based on his perusal of journals and letters and the digital data such as emails and texts. In fact, he feels burdened by the amount of research material at his disposal: “three million internet mentions of Francis Blundy in his lifetime, the 219,000 messages that were written to him and by him and the near-infinite references since.” When writing about the Blundys and the corona, especially the birthday dinner, Thomas decides it is acceptable “where the source material did not exist . . . to make educated guesses about the subjective states and lines of thought of people who had died a hundred years ago. . . . When faced with the essential but undisclosed inner life, invent within the confines of the probable.” He regards it “an essential freedom to speculate, infer, make educated guesses and animate circumstances and states of mind with the reasonable projection of a common humanity unchanged across the intervening century” because his duty “is to vitality, to convey the experience of lived and felt life.” Rose, on the other hand, disagrees and argues that Thomas’ “only duty is to the truth . . . whereof you do not know, therof you must be silent.”

Vivian is the narrator in the second part and what she reveals suggests that there are boundaries to our understanding; in fact, we can know very little. Random details and records, even personal ones, may not tell the entire story. I keep a journal but can I really say that it’s unbiased or that I haven’t lied by omission? Trying to extrapolate motives, feelings, the full truth, from a series of disparate sources may mean that we are like Francis: our certitude may suggest brilliance but actually indicates our foolishness. The next time I read a biography, I will remember McEwan’s caveat.

There is so much in this book, so much I could parse. There’s the complex characterization where everyone has both positive and negative traits, and there’s more nuance to characters than initially shown. In the end I found no one really likeable, but that’s okay. There’s humour: “inter-racial marriage increased to the extent that within a mere three or four generations, the descendants of many whites have realised the old sunbathers’ dream.” And there are more ideas explored that I haven’t even touched on. In other words, this is another Ian McEwan masterpiece.

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