Review of SISTERS OF A HALVED HEART by Nayantara Roy (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

As the title clearly suggests, this novel is about the bond between sisters and how difficult it can be to repair that bond if broken because of a betrayal.

Mira Guhathakurta is a poetry editor for a niche literary magazine. The novel opens with her returning to New York from London where she spent the last five years. The return is difficult because it brings back memories of her breakup with Jack, a man she loved. She avoids her sister Joy until a family situation forces them together. Tensions are high between the siblings; though the exact nature of the betrayal is not immediately revealed, it is obvious that Joy hurt her sister deeply so Mira has difficulty forgiving her. But Mira has a job she loves, is able to spend time with her best friend Lena, and tentatively begins a romantic relationship with a new man, Marlon Hughes.

I do not have a sister so cannot relate to the relationship between Mira and Joy. They were very close when younger though they vied for their father’s affection. Because they know each other well, they know exactly how to hurt each other. For instance, Mira knows that Joy desires, more than anything, a good relationship with her sister. Understanding that “the greatest punishment to Joy would be to deny her my presence in her life,” Mira does exactly that for years. I imagine that the love/hate relationship is realistically portrayed: “The desire to do her harm coupled with the fact that I could not bear her unhappiness – it had always been my undoing.”

I found myself very frustrated with Mira. She seems so immature. She runs from problems and keeps secrets that serve little purpose. And she makes infuriating choices. Mira is over 30; in someone that age I’d expect more self-awareness. Marlon tells her, “’when we’re hurt, we tend to . . . go blind a little,’” but Mira sometimes seems downright delusional. It is understandable that she feels anger and grief because of the painful breakup and her sister’s actions, but she’s had five years to recover. She likes to portray herself as a victim of betrayal but conveniently forgets about how she and Jack betrayed Frankie!

There is a surprise ending which does force the reader to reconsider what s/he has just read. I don’t like such a big reveal that logically would have been discussed earlier; it just feels too manipulative. It does explain more about the reason for Mira’s behaviour regarding Jack, but I found myself disliking her more because of her lack of emotions considering what she did four years earlier. And considering Lena’s role for the last four years, why would she even ask Mira if she’ll ever reveal the truth to Joy?!

In the first half, the pace dragged. It takes so long for the extent of Joy’s betrayal to be revealed, though I think most readers will guess it long beforehand. And there are other parts that are predictable as well. The mystery about the manuscript that is sent to Mira is certainly not a mystery. Of course Mira’s thoughts do emphasize the theme of how we avoid or are unable to see truths obvious to others.

In books focused on female characters, I often find that the male characters are portrayed negatively. In this novel, however, the men seem too earnest so some of the dialogue is just unbelievable. Jack, Marlon, Sebastian, and even Lee are all so enlightened in their treatment of women.

This may seem a trivial complaint, but does it make sense that an American would choose to study law in England if intending to practice in the US? Surely there are differences in law. A cursory Google search suggests a lawyer educated in the UK is not automatically allowed to practice in the US. At least, s/he must sit the bar.

Anyone who has had a tumultuous relationship with a sister will probably find much to like in this novel. Personally, however, I just couldn’t connect to the main characters and so had difficulty caring about what happened to them. Both Mira and Joy exhibit all the traits of an immature person: a lack of emotional control, poor accountability, and an inability to understand another’s perspective. Yet they somehow attract these almost too-perfect men?

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

Review of THE EMILYS by Heather Abel (New Release)

 2.5 Stars

This novel with its meandering plot touches on a number of issues; unfortunately, it feels unfocused and scattered.

It is set in post-pandemic Northampton, Massachusetts. Forty-four-year-old Eve, having moved back with her two children, meets her childhood friend Demeter. Lonely and bored, Eve is so happy to reconnect. Quickly she becomes dedicated to helping Demeter whose daughter Persephone is suffering from sudden, unexplainable photosensitivity. This condition means she avoids the outdoors and even rooms with lighting. Others in the community are also afflicted. Some label the condition as post-pandemic syndrome while others suspect a tick bite might be the cause.

Eve is joined by others on the hunt for a cure. There’s Ruth, the local librarian; Stephen, whose son suffers with the condition; and Will, a young man hoping to make amends for past mistakes. They learn about a plant that might provide relief so they set out to find it, though the spring ephemeral may very well be extinct. Eve becomes so obsessed that she keeps secrets from her husband, neglects her children, and even quarrels with Demeter.

I found it difficult to determine the purpose of the book. It touches on many topics, including motherhood, friendship, and climate change. It is marketed as a book about love of many kinds and it does indeed show varieties of love: parental love for children; romantic love in heterosexual, homosexual and bisexual relationships; love between friends; and love for nature and the planet. The problem is that each relationship is described in detail. For instance, we learn about Ruth, Stephen and Will’s past loves so we are introduced to many secondary characters like Jeremiah, Quinn, Arielle, Ritu, Jessie, Ramona, and Antonia. Ruth and Stephen were even married to the same woman.

One main message is that we are destroying our planet. One chapter, narrated by a tick, explains how ticks nearly disappeared but came back because of human behaviour. There is repeated reference to the effects of a warming climate; warming winters, wet springs, trees leafing early, and invasive species moving in. Of course, human relationships with nature have changed over time as well: “We largely ignored the plants when we had them, but so much depended upon them. We were living with a flat-out miracle, this green earth a wonderment.” There’s even the suggestion that the photosensitivity is a sickness “as response to a sick world.”

It is difficult to connect with the characters because there are so many of them. Besides the ones already mentioned, there are many others that make an appearance: Lev and Sonya, Eve’s children; Henry James, Eve’s husband; Joan Yalen, Eve’s mother; Kiran, Stephen’s son; Claudine, Jeremiah’s niece; Ellen, Ruth’s friend; as well as other characters named Pax, Ishmael, Aengus, Corin, Indigo, and Lenore and Clement Folkenflick. Then there are the characters given more than one name: Pan/DJ, Orian/Ryan; Ellen/Ellis, and Claude/Claudine. Many of the characters come complete with a back story, though many of those prove to be largely irrelevant.

Eve, a main character, is difficult to like. She lets her husband do as he wants so child care falls solely to her while he commutes from New York only on weekends. She wants to be “crowned queen of mothers” yet virtually abandons her children at times in favour of Demeter and her daughter. She often behaves immaturely; I found myself comparing her flirting with Will to Persephone’s behaviour with DJ.

The book lacks focus because of too many tangents. The pace is slow so there’s little tension and nothing much happens for the longest time. The overly large cast of characters is sometimes just confusing. The novel needs some editing since it is unnecessarily lengthy (over 400 pages). I did not enjoy it but others with more patience might want to give it a try.

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

Review of THORNBY MANOR by Stephanie Bramwell-Lawes

 4 Stars

This book is perfect for Gothic fiction lovers. If you enjoyed Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier or Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights by the Brontë sisters, this book is definitely for you. (Even the author’s surname – change the m to an n – may make you think of the Brontës.)

Briar Monroe, after the death of her parents, is set to act as a travel companion for her aunt. Because of illness, her aunt arranges for Briar to stay at Thornby Manor, the home of Lady Elizabeth Danville, until she can join her niece before they embark on their travels. When Briar arrives at Thornby Manor, she learns that Lady Danville died recently, but Lord Danville insists Briar stay as a guest. Lord Danville is often away so the manor is left in the charge of Marie Clara, the governess – though the only Danville child is an adult son named Gabriel.

It is immediately obvious that Thornby Manor is home to many secrets. For instance, Lady Danville died under rather mysterious circumstances. Gabriel, troubled by his mother’s death, has a difficult relationship with his father. When Gabriel arrives, he and Briar team up to uncover the truth of Elizabeth’s illness and death.

The novel has all the classic Gothic elements. In terms of setting, there’s the isolated Victorian manor house which always seems shrouded in mist which circles the house like a vulture. Briar thinks of the manor as “a talisman of darkness, an emblem of death.” There are dark passageways and shuttered rooms in the attic. The dining room is described as being “reminiscent of a narrow coffin.” The weather is always extreme with howling winds and rain: gales make “creaking banisters groan like waking ghouls.” Trees resemble “skeletons shedding skins of scarlet, amber, and gold.”

An atmosphere of dread and mystery, with unexplained occurrences, permeates the book. Briar senses she is being watched, and others admit to seeing ethereal figures. Briar hears strange noises and has “ghoulish visions.” Imagery is used to great effect: skeletons; a dead magpie; “snaking trails of mottled mist bled between the trees like weeping wounds”; bars of the iron gates “tipped with a pointed spear like Cerberus’s teeth”; flames “like snakes on a charm, licking at the grate with eager tongues”; piano keys “gleamed like bared teeth”; and eyes that “glittered like a beast’s.”

A common Gothic trope is the damsel in distress. Briar is certainly isolated and in a vulnerable position because of her father’s actions, but in many ways she is a bit of an anachronism. She is not the typical 19th-century woman. She is outspoken and headstrong and more than once is reminded that her behaviour is outside acceptable societal norms. She champions those who are vulnerable or treated unjustly.

Besides being entertaining, the novel does touch on some serious themes. The role of Victorian women and the treatment of mental illness are highlighted. “Hysteria, intemperance, nervousness, excitement, feebleness of intellect, strength of intellect, excessive sexual appetites” were all reasons used to admit women to insane asylums. And “How many locked away for spurious crimes, for disobeying their husbands, or simply for convenience?” (I was reminded of Liberty Street, a recent novel by Heather Marshall, a Canadian writer, that also examines the institutionalization of women for subjective misbehaviour.)

There are times when the high emotion – intense anger and sorrow – grated on my nerves. Of course, melodrama, exaggerated feelings, and over-wrought imaginations are very much characteristics of Gothic fiction. So it is to lovers of Gothic literature that I recommend this novel.

Review of DAUGHTERS OF THE SUN AND MOON by Lisa See (New Release)

3.5 Stars 

Lisa See’s latest historical fiction begins in 1870 and is set primarily in Los Angeles which at the time had a population of about 5,000 of which 179 were Chinese.

The novel focuses on three Chinese women. Two of them arrive on the same ship. Dove is an innocent 17-year-old with bound feet. Her marriage, as second wife, has been arranged to an older merchant. Petal is 18 years old. Her parents sell her to help their impoverished situation; her fate is to be a hundred men’s wife, a woman always holding up her legs. She must work in a brothel for a minimum of four years. Once in L.A. the two meet Moon, a 26-year-old woman who is married to a doctor of traditional Chinese medicine. She is educated and fluent in English; her sorrows are that she walks with a limp because of a failed foot binding and that she has not succeeding in getting pregnant. The three women all face challenges and heartbreak but endure and find comfort in friendship.

As always in See’s novels, there is a great deal of historical information. The reader is made aware of the strong anti-Chinese sentiment at the time. They are considered heathens who live in dirty conditions, bring filth and disease, covet white women, and take jobs from whites. This racism culminates in the Night of Horrors on Oct. 24, 1871, a massacre targeting Chinese immigrants.

What is also interesting is the opinions of the Chinese of Whites. Petal, for instance, refers to them as white ghosts with hair “in the demon colors of yellow, brown, and red . . . [with men having] bushy hair growing out of their faces. Disgusting.” Dove thinks of Whites as barbarians: “The way they eat with knives and forks, letting them clank against each other when even the poorest of our countrymen eat quietly with chopsticks.” The message is that people tend to look askance at what is different.

The three women have distinct personalities which are clearly differentiated though they share traits of bravery, resilience, and determination. The three realize that they have no value: one women states, “’Just as in China, we are the property of men. We can be bought. We can be sold. We can be traded. We can be discarded when we lose our beauty or our abilities to earn a dollar.’” Petal feels the same: “Property. Not a girl. Not a woman. Not even a human. We were property” and wonders “Will I ever have control over my own life?” The Chinese community is dominated by two rival tongs constantly jockeying for power and the women are often pawns: two women are kidnapped, one repeatedly. Though victims of both racism and sexism, the three fight to have their value recognized and succeed in going from “having little choice, little power, and little opportunity” to unearthing “bravery, endurance, and the ability to eat bitterness.”

Each chapter focuses on one of the women. Petal is a first-person narrator who describes events as they happen to her. Dove’s sections are narrated in third-person. Moon is also a first-person narrator, but speaks from the perspective of an old woman living in 1926 and looking back at meeting Dove and Petal and the events before and after the Night of Horrors. Moon offers the most interesting viewpoint because she reflects on what happened but I found her foreshadowing to be heavy-handed: “I didn’t press her either. A regrettable mistake on my part . . . ” and “much would happen between that first shooting and then . . . ”

This book suffers from a slow pace, dialogue that feels stiff and unnatural because it contains too much information, and too many male characters who are flat and lack distinctiveness. It excels in elucidating a history about which many people will have little knowledge. Considering anti-immigration views being expressed these days, the novel is timely.

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

Review of LAND by Maggie O'Farrell (New Release)

 4 Stars

O’Farrell’s latest novel is historical fiction and a family drama with a touch of magic realism.

It opens in IreLAND in 1865, about ten years after The Great Hunger. Tomás and his 10-year-old son Liam are working for the Ordnance Survey project to map the entire country. Tomás is determined that his maps will be a record of the The Great Famine, but he is sent off course by an encounter with magical waters in an unsettling copse on a western peninsula. Tomás emerges changed and his life and that of his family is never the same. The novel follows the lives of Tomás, his wife, and their four children: Enda, Liam, Rose, and Eugene.

Though most of the novel focuses on life post-famine, there are flashbacks to the potato famine. Both Tomás and his wife suffer devastating loss during the famine. There are also flashbacks to the past on the peninsula, millennia earlier, where we meet a girl named Brith and then the reader is given a brief history of the changes on the land until Tomás arrives with his family.

This is a multiple-perspective narrative. The perspective of each family member is presented at different times, even one in utero “the size of a pear,” but the novel also includes that of others: Bran, the family’s Irish wolfhound; Father Joseph, the local priest; Brith, a child living in an Iron Age ringfort; and even a skylark.

As always in O’Farrell’s novels, the characterization is outstanding. For instance, the four children emerge as distinct personalities. Enda is the restless one; music becomes her outlet. Liam, scarred by what happened to his father at the magical spring, turns to religion. For Rose, family is of tantamount importance. Eugene cannot speak but communes with the land.

And that land is very much a character. Land shapes people’s lives. Though it remains “indifferent to the bloody and fearsome shifts going on around it,” it remembers. Tomás tells the priest, “’the land was inhabited long before you and your kind ever arrived . . . You will never understand how the land remembers, how deep the roots grow, how fast the stream.’” Humans inhabit land for only a short time, but the land is permanent; it is not static because it changes as people shape it, but it remains even when humans leave it or die: “After these people will come someone else, and then someone else, and on and on it will go until the end of the world.” Eugene sees no delineation between past and present: “He lives much as his ancient forebears did: on and by the land, watching the weather, feeling one season blur into the next.” And the land remains part of the people who lived on it: Tomás desperately wants to find the valley where he lived as a child, “to find where he is from, to walk the soil where he began,” and Enda is on another continent yet “The music she plays is the land: it summons it; it conjures it here, to this street corner.”

Of course people try to shape the land too. They build on it and fence it in. They use its turf for heat. Tomás realizes that mapping the land makes it easier for people to exploit it. Tomás tells his son, “’To map is to assume power.’” He argues that “maps are acts of colonisation, enemy tools that must be destroyed.” Though he needs to make maps to provide for his family, he sees himself “as the lapdog of the redcoats, taking their money, helping them to tighten their hold on the land.” What Tomás wants to do is create “a map of how this land really is, of how it has always been, of what lies beneath whatever order or disorder others might impose upon it.”

Besides The Great Hunger and its enduring trauma on people and the land, the novel also examines colonization and the influence of the Catholic Church. Elements of folklore also make an appearance. For instance, there’s a spring that is said “to bestow what is needed, not necessarily what is wanted, which is not always the same thing.” Magic realism is not something I enjoy, but it’s handled with a light touch so the narrative never feels overwhelmed by it.

My husband and I spent almost a month touring Ireland in 2024 so this novel really resonated with me. We saw the Famine Memorial in Dublin and the memorial in the Doolough valley and they haunt me still, as will the scene the child Tomás witnessed with the earl’s pigs. The symbolism is perfect! We visited ring forts and I bought earrings “decorated with interlocking swirls.” And we heard tales of the fairy folk who inhabit underground mounds and serve as guardians of nature and ancient sites, tales I remembered as I read about Brith’s father’s people disappearing into the ground.

This is another Maggie O’Farrell masterpiece. It is emotional and thought-provoking, has memorable characters, a strong sense of place, and thematic depth, and is written in beautiful prose.

See my reviews of other Maggie O’Farrell novels:

After You’d Gone - https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2020/08/review-of-after-youd-gone-by-maggie.html

The Marriage Portrait - https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/11/review-of-marriage-portrait-by-maggie.html

The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox - https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2019/08/review-of-vanishing-act-of-esme-lennox.html

Instructions for a Heatwave - https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2020/11/review-of-instructions-for-heatwave-by.html

The Hand that First Held Mine - https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2020/12/review-of-hand-that-first-held-mine-by.html

Hamnet and Judith - https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2020/07/review-of-hamnet-and-judith-by-maggie.html

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

Review of HUNGER AND THIRST by Claire Fuller (New Release)

 3 Stars

I’ve read four of Claire Fuller’s novels so was interested in her latest offering. Unfortunately, this psychological horror was not for me.

There’s a dual timeline: 1987 and 2023. In 1987, 16-year-old Ursula Major, after years in the care system, has a job at a local art school and a bed in a halfway house. She meets Sue who is two years older and the two quickly become friends. Eventually Sue insists Ursula move into a squat, the Underwood, with Sue’s friend Vince. The house has a tragic past and then another tragedy occurs which alters Ursula’s life forever.

Thirty-six years later, Ursula is a successful but reclusive sculptor living under the pseudonym Uschi. A true-crime documentarian finds her and asks her to speak about what happened at the Underwood so long ago. Ursula had hoped to escape the past but that is not to be.

The first half of the book focuses on Ursula’s friendship with Sue. It is not the healthiest of relationships. Ursula is lonely and vulnerable and hungry for love, friendship, and family that have been missing from her life. Sue is erratic, controlling, and selfish; she thirsts for a different life, that of a director of horror films. Ursula is warned about Sue: Vince tells Ursula, “’what Sue wants, Sue gets’” and Sue’s brother even says, “’She changes her mind a lot, Ursula, and she’s done this before, you know. Had other friends she’s let down. . . . you need to work out what you want to do with your own life. Don’t do what Sue is doing.’” Ursula herself realizes that Sue cannot be trusted to keep secrets. Desperate to have a friend, however, Ursula cannot resist Sue who gives her not just friendship but a connection to a family as well.

One of my problems with the book is that I didn’t really like any of the characters. Neither are they memorable. Terry and Vince are just obnoxious. Sue is manipulative, though she is not as extreme as suggested by the publisher’s note which describes her as a wild-child with extreme behaviour and demands. Ursula is the most sympathetic. A damaged child, traumatized by her mother’s fate and her unstable life in foster homes, her neediness overwhelms her. The problem is that it’s difficult to know what to believe because as a narrator, she’s not totally reliable.

I had issues with some of the events. A social worker lets a 16-year-old girl live in a halfway house with recovering alcoholics, ex-junkies, and men recently released from prison? Then, when she learns that Ursula has moved into a squat, the social worker doesn’t really do anything to help? I understand that the child protection system may be overburdened, but there seems to be no attempt to remove Ursula from dangerous environments? Then when Ursula contacts the police about events at the Underwood, no one believes her and the police don’t do a proper investigation? Vince finds Ursula even though she hasn’t really moved in to her new home? And there’s the reference to Ursula suffering from hirsutism; this hairiness befits the linguistic root of her name, but its significance is unclear.

Readers must be willing to accept a lot of ambiguity. What exactly happens at Underwood? Should we believe Ursula’s version or does she suffer a psychotic episode as a result of the trauma in her past or because of substance use? Is she imagining things, influenced by the horror films she repeatedly watches? Is she blaming herself unfairly because of what happened to Sadie? Do not expect clear answers.

Others may enjoy this book, but the haunted house trope has never appealed to me and neither has the concept of possession. Like Raymond, I believe in science and proof, so I’m obviously not the intended audience for this novel. I recommend the book to readers who like the horror genre and are comfortable with a lack of clarity and a lot of uncertainty.

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

Review of THIS IS GOING TO HURT: SECRET DIARIES OF A YOUNG DOCTOR by Adam Kay

 3 Stars

This book is an account of the life of a young doctor working for the National Health Service in the United Kingdom. It is structured as a series of diary entries between August 3, 2004, and December 5, 2010. He recorded things that happened to him; some were hilarious and some were heartbreaking.

The book reveals the reality of the NHS. What is exposed is an underfunded health care system with a management that does not make decisions in the best interests of medical staff or patients. The author claims doctors are underpaid and overworked. He describes working while exhausted and worrying about providing competent care without making errors which could result in life-threatening consequences. He bemoans “hospitals’ willful ineptitude when it comes to caring for their own staff.”

The personal toll of working in healthcare is highlighted. The author’s relationship with his partner suffers because of the long hours he works; even friendships are impacted when people outside the medical field do not understand the grueling working hours. He also mentions the high percentage of doctors who have experienced mental health issues and the high suicide rates because of the demands of their profession: “being given huge responsibility, minimal supervision, and absolutely no pastoral support.”

One thing that surprised me is the medical career path in the UK. Students choose medicine at 16, long before they understand what the profession entails. This is certainly different than in Canada where students must complete an undergraduate degree before applying to a medical school. This Canadian (and American) approach is the one the author approves: “getting a medical degree is a decision you should make in your early twenties, not as a teenager.” The amount of support junior doctors receive in hospital settings varies; the author describes a hospital where the approach was “see one, do one, teach one” as if watching a procedure automatically qualified someone to perform that procedure.

There are many anecdotes, but I didn’t really find them that surprising or original. One of my friends is an emergency physician at Sunnybrook Health Sciences Centre, the largest trauma centre in Canada, so I’ve heard some of these types of stories before. I also worked in a hospital for four summers when I was in university so I have tales of my own.

Some of the anecdotes are amusing, but after a while they feel formulaic and repetitive. There is always a punch line at the end. Early on I felt that these would work better as part of a stand-up comedy routine. Sometimes Kay just makes cheap shots at a patient’s intelligence, weight, or sexual activity. And there is a preponderance of jokes about bodily fluids and random foreign objects in body cavities.

I admit to not really liking the author. I understand that humour is a coping mechanism but it sometimes feels exploitative. He uses patients to gain a laugh, and some of his comments are inappropriate and/or insensitive. There’s a condescending tone in his dismissal of colleagues, suggesting some needed prescriptions for common sense and giving examples of incompetence. He makes comments about old people: “a bunch of grannies with pelvic floors like quicksand and their uteri stalagtiting into their thermals.” Some of his comments border on cruelty: he wants a father to stop talking during a delivery but suggesting that he might deliver a blue baby is over the top. Out of spite, he reveals the gender of an unborn child. He is especially judgmental about religion: he repeats how Jehovah Witnesses are stupid and jokes about asking a Muslim man for a BLT and a bottle of vodka. The author does show compassion in some situations, but they are undermined by his ridicule of others. I’m not sure I’d be comfortable having him as a doctor.

The book is good in spotlighting the sacrifices made by medical professionals whom we forget are human beings, not infallible superheroes. Learning about some of their moral and ethical dilemmas might change public perception. I just got the impression that the author didn’t think much of the people who came to him for care, though perhaps my dislike of humour that belittles others is colouring my impression.

Review of LIBRARY OF BROTHEL by Anakana Schofield (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

Let me begin by stating that I have read two of Schofield’s previous novels (Martin John and Bina) and both of them left me highly impressed with the author’s bravery and creativity. Her latest, Library of Brothel, often left me more confused than enlightened.

The setting is a crumbling building housing a worker’s co-operative, “the only remaining analog, offline operation in Vancouver.” The Library of Brothel consists of a variety of rooms with workers who are tasked with helping people recover from the internet and “reacquainting the human with the human.” The rooms focus on exploring a specific theme but, more importantly, provide clients with “the opportunity to converse and practise interacting with another human.”

There is little in terms of a traditional plot. The workers do have conflicts with each other, but their major concern is the possibility that the library may close. Fewer clients are using their services. Developers are buying up properties all around and there is fear that their building will be next to be demolished and replaced. Workers are already struggling because of the high cost of housing; many need multiple jobs to survive.

Except for a few characters like Scrabble Woman and Security, there is little differentiation. The narrator, one of the workers presumably, states, “We are a conglomerate of eccentrics” who like “wholesome weirdness.” Characters have no names other than the themes of the rooms. And to call the themes esoteric seems almost an understatement! Some examples are History of Outrageous Political Excuses in the Last Century; Evolution and Influence of Irish Butter; History of Early Urologic Inventions: Forgotten Poets Called John; Decoding Ancient Computers and Bonding with the Antikythera Mechanism; Bayesian Analysis of Phylogenetic Trees; and Great Moments in Belly Dancing.

One theme is the value of human connection. The narrator argues that “We are necessary because humans no longer look at each other. They are ghosting in stasis. On the phones.” There is repeated reference to an “epidemic of avoidance” and the crisis of “the human retreat from the human.” The library serves to address “the great reluctance of humans to be in a room with their eyes open (and not staring at a phone) and to tolerate the prospect of each other socially, romantically, or even generally. We need to convey an urgent requirement to return to interaction or risk social extinction.” The workers want “to keep all our clients sustained intellectually while we attempt, unofficially, to reintroduce them to the concept of each other.”

There are wonderful touches of humour. There are the themes of the various rooms like Influence of the Outdoor Ukulele on Yukon Carpenters circa 1896. The library’s has no WiFi: “We remain aged cheddar to the slippy-slappy slice.” There are comments like “It’s hard to absolutely vaccinate against assholes.” And there’s the totally ridiculous: who could be shaking a fridge so violently that a jar stowed on its side would spill its contents?

And there is social commentary. The narrator comments that in Vancouver “we erase the past swifter than we can construct the present”; it’s the “microfibre cloth swipe of capital.” It’s impossible not to think of current events with statements like “Diversion is a ruse Noble Leader and other global dictators have often used” and workers being warned “not to use the word ‘socialist’ because these days it can get you deported to places you’ve never been.” The razing of neighbourhoods is bemoaned so an “established community of low-income renters and new immigrants” has made way for houses for “financially rising or arisen folks with pre-approved mortgages and an abundance of pedigree dogs and electric blinds.” People are less likely to see “volleyball playing Tamils” but more likely to see new stock in the grocery store: “adding words like organic and no cholesterol to products that had never held any cholesterol, such as a bottle of water.”

The book is written in an absurdist style. It focuses on characters trapped in absurd situations, rejects a realistic, traditional plot, and uses dark humor. This style is not my favourite so I found the book a challenging read. I know I missed much of its message. At the beginning, the reader is told that one of the library’s rules is not to anticipate anything “except intellectual stimulation” and in many ways the book does feel like an intellectual exercise, much like analyzing “The Waste Land” or “Jabberwocky.” I’m certain that if I had the time to re-read the book, I’d appreciate it more.

I recommend Library of Brothel to readers who enjoy unconventional books and love to analyze but are also able to embrace uncertainty.

See my reviews of other Anakana Schofield books.

Martin John: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2016/07/review-of-martin-john-by-anakana.html

Bina: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2019/05/review-of-bina-by-anakana-schofield-new.html

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

Review of THE CASE STUDY by Nicole Lundrigan (New Release)

 4 Stars

A couple of years ago I read A Man Downstairs, a psychological thriller by this Canadian author, and I really enjoyed it. When I noticed she had a new book scheduled for release, I was anxious to read it. It too proved to be an enjoyable read.

Mia, many years ago, read a magazine article about a murderous teenage girl suffering with Cotard’s Syndrome, a rare neuropsychiatric condition in which the affected person holds the delusional belief that s/he is deceased or does not exist. Fascinated, Mia sought out Ian Morrison, the psychiatrist who treated her, and ended up marrying him. Twenty years later, when Ian announces that his famous case study will be republished and he will be reconnecting with his former patient, Mia gains access to the therapy sessions and obsessively pores over them.

Lainey is that patient. When Ian reaches out, she decides to tell him the truth of what happened in her past which resulted in her diagnosis and her being confined for years to a psychiatric facility. She becomes fixated on Ian’s personal life. She takes an especial interest in learning what she can about his wife Mia and daughter Elise and tries to insert herself into their lives.

The book is a fast-paced read. The perspectives of the two women are provided, Mia’s in third person and Lainey’s in first-person. I suspected early on that neither is totally reliable because both have hidden agendas and are capable of deception. In fact, none of the main characters is totally trustworthy: besides Mia and Lainey, Mia’s husband, mother and daughter keep secrets.

For me, Ian is the most dislikeable character. He is not really trying to help Lainey; he wants her case to revitalize his career. He has a sense of superiority and he manipulates Mia. What is learned about his relationship with Faye, his mother-in-law, I found difficult to believe, though it certainly adds to my negative impression of him.

Like A Man Downstairs, this novel examines parent-child relationships. We learn about Lainey’s relationships with her mother and the uncle who adopted her and that of Mia’s with Faye. Then there’s Mia’s relationship with Elise.

There are several twists and turns which surprised me, but looking back, I found they explained actions which had bothered me. For instance, why is Mia so obsessed with Lainey’s case? Why does Lainey react as she does when she first sees Elise? What is not clear is clarified by those twists and turns.

I will recommend this as a perfect summer read. It grabs attention from the beginning and keeps the reader entertained throughout.

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

Review of COUNTY ROAD SIX by Kevin Hardcastle (New Release)

 2.5 Stars

This book was not for me. I found it a tedious read and I kept checking to see how many more pages there were left until the end.

After the death of Arthur O’Hare by suicide, his three daughters (Beth, Mara, and Emma) reunite at the family farm. The three women soon learn that they have not just inherited the farm but a long-buried secret that has them fighting to retain ownership of the farmhouse and land. They face terror and violence and must take extreme measures to protect themselves.

Though set in Simcoe County, Ontario, near the shores of Georgian Bay, in many ways the book reminded me of a Cormac McCarthy novel. There are scenes of intense violence described in graphic detail. This is not the type of book I enjoy so I guess I’m not the intended audience.

Pacing is a real problem. The novel opens very slowly; almost nothing happens for pages and pages. There is often little dialogue and actions are described in tedious detail. For instance, “Mara put a hand to her mouth and muttered into it and then she flicked the switch again and the room went dark. She drew the door shut and pulled until it reluctantly latched. Mara fetched her bottle from the kitchen and went into the living room and sat the end of the couch near to her father’s old armchair. Long haul from the bottle before she set it by. The woman lifted her phone and looked to the messages pending but she did not open them.” There are irrelevant details: do we really need to know the history of the local Legion Hall? What’s the fixation with cardinal directions? West is mentioned a dozen times and north is mentioned twice that! Then, in the latter part of the book, there are chapters that have action, but again individual movements are described in such detail that tension is lost. With its detailing of all movements, the book sometimes reads almost like a screenplay. The book is totally lacking taut prose.

Then there’s the strange phrasing of some sentences: “They were stood some twenty yards away from the target” and “Mara was stood there long after” and “Emma was stood in the lamplight” and “a broom that was stood against the side of the house.” Perhaps this odd passive voice construction is an example of local colour, but it’s not used in speech so it is just awkward.

In contrast to the heavy physical descriptions, there is a lot of vagueness in terms of plot. What exactly did Arthur do to earn his fearful reputation in the community? And about his past, the reader can only guess at his activities. What exactly was the cause of the rift between Arthur and his first wife’s family? Arthur Cass is Arthur O’Hare? Why did Arthur abandon Tynan? The reader eventually learns that Beth and Mara’s mother was First Nations, so the girls were discriminated against when they were young. But the discrimination faced by them and their mother’s cousin Marie is only alluded to, not really shown.

The book is marketed as a “propulsive, powerful, and thrilling novel” but I did not find this to be the case. It is overly long and written in a style that lessens tension and increases tedium.

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

Review of THE SPINNING HEART by Donal Ryan (Re-Release)

 4 Stars

I’ve read three of Donal Ryan’s novels and have loved them all. The Spinning Heart is his debut novel from 2012 which is being re-released. It won numerous awards and I can understand why.

The book is set in a rural Irish town in the aftermath of the country’s financial crisis in 2008. Through the inner monologues of 21 of the community’s residents, we see the impact of the sudden closure of a construction firm. Jobs vanish, livelihoods crumble, and tensions escalate; the ripple effects of the property bubble burst are wide-ranging.

Though a plot of sorts emerges, the focus is definitely on people. With the number of characters, I feared getting confused, but that was not the case. I enjoyed learning about the blood ties. We encounter Bridie and later her brother Jim. Lily speaks longingly about her granddaughter Millicent who later also has a voice in the book. First we meet Josie who mentions he has a daughter that he doesn’t discuss anymore; later his daughter Mags speaks and we learn the reason for the fracture in their relationship. There are also plot connections: Trevor and Lloyd’s choices affect Réaltín and Seanie most directly but also Kate and her husband Denis; the latter acts in a way that changes the lives of Frank, Bobby, and Triona.

The character with the first monologue is Bobby Mahon. He is very much the heart of the novel. Almost all of the other 20 characters mention Bobby and almost all admit, though some grudgingly, that he’s a good man. He’s a decent, hard-working, humble, and loving man who tries to help others; his wife Triona best describes him as someone who takes on the troubles of others.

Each character is carefully crafted. What is commendable is that each emerges as a complex character with both positive and negative traits. Even characters who seem to be evil are shown to have understandable motivations, if not redeeming qualities. Frank Mahon, Bobby’s father, is a prime example. Frank drank until he had wasted his entire inheritance, made the lives of his wife and son an absolute misery, and continues to verbally abuse Bobby. Virtually no one has a kind word to say about Frank, but in the end, we learn the reasons for his behaviour, and his daughter-in-law says, “I started for the first time to think that there was more inside in Frank than just spite.”

What is emphasized is that there is often a contrast between how people present themselves to the world and the inner truths they conceal from the world. Sometimes how people are perceived by others is not accurate. One character worries whether he might have inherited his father’s schizophrenia. Someone viewed by everyone as a womanizer suffers with depression and has contemplated suicide. Two young men decide to leave Ireland to find employment elsewhere, but worry about hurting their parents. One young man is viewed as lacking intelligence but he provides the key to solving a crime. People in small towns often believe they know everything about everyone else, but that is not usually the case.

The novel depicts life in a small town. People gossip: there are tales about Bobby that tarnish his reputation. Triona scoffs at how “The Teapot Taliban fattened on their stories.” People are judgmental: people ostracize Lily. There are instances where neighbours help neighbours, but Triona comments that this may be the case only in good times: “if we were all in the black we’d all be in the pink. The air is thick with platitudes around here. We’ll all pull together. We’re a tight-knit community. We’ll all support each other. Oh really?”

Much of the subject matter is serious. There are examples of domestic violence, alcoholism, dysfunctional families, and generational trauma. We read about strong emotions: fear, hopelessness, anger, and grief. There is suspense: When Kate hires Trevor, we know the risk. And will Dylan be found? Did Bobby do what he admits wanting to do? There are also, however, moments of tenderness; parents love and worry about their children. The love between Bobby and Triona certainly stands out, and the novel’s last sentence is significant.

The novel is written using Irish vernacular so I did occasionally find myself at a loss: came a cropper, ollagoan, skittin, crathur, tacher, tapping a flaker, culchie, subbie, and cigire are examples of slang that left me confused. Nonetheless, this language adds local colour and authenticity.

I highly recommend this book. It is masterfully written. A follow-up, Heart, Be at Peace, was released recently; it returns to the village a decade later. It’s just been added to my to-read stack.

Here are links to my reviews of more Donal Ryan’s books:

Strange Flowers: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2021/10/review-of-strange-flowers-by-donal-ryan.html

From a Low and Quiet Sea: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2019/01/review-of-from-low-and-quiet-sea-by.html

The Queen of Dirt Island: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/02/review-of-queen-of-dirt-island-by-donal.html

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

Review of JUNE BABY by Shannon Garvey (New Release)

 2.5 Stars

This novel was not for me; its pace is so slow and its main character could be a case study for psychological/emotional arrested development.

Twenty-seven-year-old Ruth returns to Block Island, off the coast of Rhode Island, where she has spent the last ten summers. After her mother Maggie died when Ruth was seventeen, her father sent her to live on the island with Diana, a renowned photographer who had been friends with Maggie. It is there that Ruth fell in love with Charlie, Diana’s nephew who visited his aunt every summer.

Things are different this year because Diana died at the beginning of the summer. Ruth yearns to re-connect with Charlie, but he has surprising news. And there are more surprises from Diana as well. All this leaves Ruth wondering how well she knew the two women who raised her. Overwhelmed by the loss that she believes has shaped her life, Ruth is unable to move on.

Ruth is not a likeable character. Though approaching thirty, she is immature and self-centred. She behaves like a teenager, making one bad choice after another. When someone makes constructive suggestions to help her, she treats them as negative criticisms. Instead of taking responsibility for her decisions, she blames her losses for her lack of motivation. I disliked how she treats others; in essence, she uses them for what they can do for her. She’s so insufferable, I don’t understand why anyone would want to spend time with her. Stuck in the past, she is aimless, choosing to live from pay cheque to pay cheque though she bemoans her lack of financial security, and sneers at others who have chosen a path for their lives and are taking steps to reach their goals. The name of the island is a perfect metaphor for her blocked emotional life.

What is especially frustrating about Ruth is that she is given opportunities but she refuses to take them. Diana, for ten years, has tried to help Ruth, introducing her to people and making her aware of possibilities. Ironically, she envies the advantages of other people but cannot see those that she has rejected.

I understand that everyone experiences grief differently, but Ruth just wallows in it. Her mother died so certainly a reader will have sympathy for her. She does, however, end up with Diana who becomes like a surrogate mother who does so much to support Ruth for ten years. When Diana dies, Ruth doesn’t really honour Diana; instead, she focuses on what she herself has lost and doesn’t even consider that others too might be grieving. After a while, any sympathy I had for Ruth was replaced with irritation and anger.

Reading this book was not an enjoyable experience. The slow pace means the book drags. The fact that the writing style relies on exposition and has little dialogue makes it monotonous to read. Whatever happened to showing rather than telling? I do not need books to be action-paced, preferring character-driven ones, but Ruth is overly introspective which results in over-thinking and stagnation. The more time I spent in her head, the less I liked her, and the more I wanted to get out. At the end I just felt exhausted. It’s not as if she gains much insight in her constant self-examinations; she accuses her father of ignoring her or running from her, and being too sensitive and remote, yet doesn’t recognize she behaves in the same ways. Isn’t this called projection? In addition, there is considerable description of setting, but much of it is over-description and repetitive.

Though this novel is being marketed as a coming-of-age story, I’m not convinced that Ruth will change. June is seen by many as a month of personal empowerment and renewal but Ruth shows little potential in that regard so, for me, the second word in the title is what stands out when I think of her. Her exploitative behaviour and lack of empathy mean I have little empathy for her so I didn’t enjoy my time in her company.

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

Review of THE CALAMITY CLUB by Kathryn Stockett (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This is the second book by the author known for her 2008 novel, The Help. The Calamity Club is a dual perspective novel set in Oxford, Mississippi, in 1933.

Meg Lefleur, ll years old, has lived in an orphanage for two years but refuses to believe her mother deliberately abandoned her. Garnett Pittman, the orphanage director, hates the smart and sassy Meg and makes her life truly miserable: denying her an education and abusing her both physically and psychologically.

Birdie Calhoun, 24, comes to Oxford to visit her sister Frances who has married a banker. Birdie’s mother and grandmother fear losing their house because they haven’t been able to pay their taxes, so Birdie is sent to ask for money from Frances. While Birdie waits for Frances to ask for the money from her husband Rory, Birdie volunteers at the orphanage. There she meets and befriends Meg. Then, just as Meg is adopted, her mother Charlie arrives looking for her daughter and she begs Birdie to help her find Meg.

At 650+ pages, this is a big book with a long and windy plot. In some ways, it almost feels like two books; Charlie’s arrival takes events into an entirely different direction than expected. Her audacious and dangerous scheme to reclaim her life and her daughter is unlikely and unconvincing. That Charlie, Birdie and the others involved are able to avoid reprisals for so long stretches credulity. And though there are quite a few dramatic developments, the pace slackens at times. Is the on again – off again romantic subplot really necessary? Then the ending feels rushed. Everything is tied together but in a loose fashion. Given the earlier attention to details, the ending is quite a contrast. I would have preferred a more focused narrative.

There is certainly a cast of colourful characters, especially after Charlie arrives on the scene. I liked Birdie who is a kind and compassionate young woman. I did find her rather naive, though the time period and her rather sheltered life do perhaps explain her innocence. Meg steals the show for me. Intelligent and inquisitive, she is precocious. Her resilience in the face of her mistreatment from Garnett and others is admirable. Though young, she is less innocent than Birdie because her life experiences have opened her eyes to people’s cruelties and hypocrisies.

Garnett is a totally despicable character with no redeeming qualities. Her absolute villainy makes her unrealistic. Early in the novel, the connection between Garnett and Meg is signposted when she describes being rescued by Welty. When Birdie becomes aware of the connection, a possible solution to finding Meg and stopping Garnett’s interference in the girl’s life is obvious. No one has the courage to confront Welty or Garnett? Instead there’s a convoluted and wild plan that is just too far-fetched.

The book touches on a number of topics: homosexuality, prostitution, forced sterilization of women, adultery, prohibition, poverty, alcoholism, sexism and racism. Because the novel is set during the Great Depression, there is emphasis on the difficult choices faced by people.

The book is entertaining. Some scenes are hilarious, almost slapstick, especially in how Charlie and Birdie try to hide the nature of their enterprise. Meg’s comments can also be funny. There are heartbreaking scenes, particularly when Meg’s mistreatment is described. There is tension, mostly regarding Meg’s fate. I kept wondering exactly what would be best for Meg. Other scenes are heartwarming; the power of female friendship is definitely emphasized. My one wish is that the book were shortened with some judicious revision and editing.

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

Review of JOHN OF JOHN by Douglas Stuart (New Release)

 4.5 Stars

I was amazed by Douglas Stuart’s previous novels, Shuggie Bain and Young Mungo, which I found emotionally intense. This, his latest, is another masterpiece.

In the waning years of the twentieth century, twenty-two-year-old John-Calum (Cal) Macleod returns to the Isle of Harris in the Outer Hebrides after completing his studies at a textile design school. He returns home with naught but his education and a lot of debt. He moves back into the croft in which he had grown up; living there are his father John and his maternal grandmother Ella. As a closeted gay man living in a small and ultra-conservative religious community, Cal is not happy, but he feels a sense of duty towards his family. Because he has few options, he tries to shape a life, but he is restless and there are constant conflicts with his father.

The three people living in the croft are all outsiders in some way. Cal, with his long hair and city clothes and his unwillingness to marry a local girl and continue the family legacy, is viewed with disapproval, and he knows he would never be accepted if his sexual orientation were known. John is a pillar of the church and community but he has a deep secret which, if uncovered, he knows would turn everyone against him. Ella is a permanent outsider; brought from Glasgow by her husband many years ago, she has never been fully accepted. Her foul mouth and her inability to speak Gaelic mean she is isolated.

Unfortunately, Cal and John don’t try to understand each other. Ella describes them fittingly: “’Islands within islands . . . within islands, within islands.’” There are so many secrets and so much is left unspoken that they are really like their neighbours, Innes and Sorley MacInnes, brothers who live in the same house but haven’t spoken to each other directly for sixteen years. In fact, both father and son are very similar. Both are full of anger, shame, and fear, and are lonely, with a longing to love and be loved. Both carry a burden of secrets; the publisher describes the novel as being “about the face we put out to the world, which may not be the person we truly are.” Both John and Cal are pressured by the remoteness of their home, their sense of duty to family, the expectations of a community tied to tradition, and their rigid Calvinist faith. The only difference is that John has experienced these pressures for twice as many years as Cal.

The characters are complex and deeply flawed but they are definitely believable. Sometimes they are selfish and sometimes generous. Cal tends to be self-centred but his gift to Isla, for instance, is so unselfish given what he could have done with it. John and Cal love each other, but John can be violent and Cal is not beyond behaving cruelly and hatefully. I did not always like the two and I found myself feeling frustrated with them, two men with, in Ella’s words, “’A shockin’ lack of self-expression.’” But it is impossible to forget that both are tortured, broken men. My heart breaks for both.

I found it interesting that women also have secrets, but they tend to keep them to protect others. Ella considers telling her grandson about the secret in her past, but she worries about the effect on Cal. Grace, Cal’s mother, left John years earlier and Cal feels she abandoned him as well. The truth is that Grace left for another reason which she never discusses; that secret might now redeem her in her son’s eyes but would have hurt Cal as a young boy.

Ella is actually my favourite character. She’s strong and fiercely independent. She can be manipulative, but in the end her machinations are intended to help people, though they may not see it that way. Even her son-in-law, with whom she has a difficult relationship, she wants to be happy. She tells Cal, “’Make yourself happy, son. Christ above, let one of us be happy.’”

This is a character-driven, not a plot-driven, novel. Slow-moving and reflective, it focuses on Cal’s perspective, but also presents the viewpoints of John, Ella, and Innes so we see their inner conflicts in depth. Nonetheless, there is suspense: secrets are gradually revealed and the reader can only wonder what will be uncovered next and what will be the ramifications. The descriptions of the environment create a strong sense of place. With its emotional intensity this book shares similarities with Stuart’s previous novels, but this one has less brutality and even touches of humour.

The novel ends on a note of hope, though much is left unknown. Insightful and well-written, Douglas Stuart’s books always provide an immersive experience which leaves the reader changed.

See my reviews of Stuart’s other books:

Shuggie Bain - https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2020/10/review-of-shuggie-bain-by-douglas-stuart.html

Young Mungo - https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/04/review-of-young-mungo-by-douglas-stuart.html

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

Review of THE WOMEN by Kristin Hannah

 2.5 Stars

This is a book with great intentions: shining a spotlight on the experiences of a woman in the Vietnam War and how they impact her life thereafter. The execution, however, is poor.

Frances (Frankie) McGrath is twenty-one when she enlists as an army nurse in 1966. The first part of the novel details her time in Vietnam: working grueling hours looking after the wounded, some with horrific injuries, sometimes while being attacked. Living conditions are unsanitary and the only reprieve seems to be drinking in the officers’ clubs. Frankie is naive, idealistic and inexperienced but quickly has her eyes opened to the realities of war and she becomes a skilled surgical nurse.

In the second part of the novel, Frankie returns home after two years. She does not receive the welcome she expects. Her nursing career stalls and romantic relationships don’t evolve as hoped. Other than her two friends Ethel and Barb, fellow nurses she met in Vietnam, she has little support. Almost inevitably, her life spirals out of control.

I had a number of issues with the book. One was a lack of credibility. Frankie is a trained nurse but only in Basic Training does she learn how to apply a splint, debride a wound, and start an IV? She is no longer a teenager when the book opens but her bedroom is that of a child complete with pogo stick and hula hoop? Her mother’s letters focus on protests against the war and her disgust for the bouncing breasts of hippies? The idea that Vietnam veterans were widely spat on upon their return is largely considered a historical myth, with no documented, verified incidents from the era. More than once she is turned away by a veterans’ organization after being told that no women served in Vietnam? The use of a soap opera trope, resurrections, not once but twice, left me rolling my eyes! The meeting at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial at the end is just too convenient and unbelievable.

The book can best be described as overwritten. There are constant references to women’s bouffant hair and men’s mustaches and sideburns. Clothing is described in great detail; head-to-toe descriptions of what a character is wearing are not necessary. Frankie’s mother visits her daughter after what can only be called as a very tragic event and the author feels it is necessary to describe her being “dressed in a rust-colored skirt with a print vest over a blouse buttoned up to her throat, and knee-high boots”? Then there’s the constant mention of titles of songs. I understand the need to add local colour but there’s such a thing as too much.

There is also too much focus on romance. Why is it that every guy falls in love with Frankie? Certainly men greatly outnumbered women in the war, but why then do Ethel and Barb not have romantic relationships as frequently? Frankie even has married men willing to leave their wives for her. One man signs up for a second tour in Vietnam because of her. Once she returns stateside, her relationships with men seem more triggers of her PTSD than the war itself. One relationship seems to almost cure her PTSD but the symptoms reemerge when she learns a man has deceived her. She seems more lovesick and heartbroken than a person struggling with PTSD.

Even the title is misleading. Only one woman’s experiences and perspective are given. I would have like to read about those of other women, not just that of a privileged white woman. Since blacks were disproportionately represented in Vietnam, the perspective of Barb, a black woman, would have provided more depth and insight. At times, I felt the title should have included a reference to men because so many of Frankie’s decisions revolve around men. She goes to war because a man tells her women can be heroes and because she wants to impress her father; she re-ups because the boys need her; and her PTSD symptoms are controlled or recur depending on the state of her romantic relationships with men.

I did not find Frankie particularly admirable. Yes, she worked hard in deplorable conditions to help others and certainly deserved recognition for that work. She is fortunate to have Ethel and Barb to support her, though the two women often feel more like props than real people. Yet I found that Frankie doesn’t offer the same kind of support to new nurses arriving in Vietnam. Once back in the U.S. she relies on Barb and Ethel who, more than once, fly out to help and support her. But then when Barb’s brother dies, Frankie sends only a letter?! She just seems selfish and self-centred.

I did appreciate that the author treated the complexities of the Vietnam War in a fair manner. She does mention the American atrocities and the lies of the politicians. She does mention the suffering of Vietnamese civilians. She shows that Vietnam veterans often received a cold, indifferent, or hostile homecoming, markedly different from the heroes' welcome given to previous generations. Clearly her message is that it should be possible to support the warriors while still hating the war.

I was disappointed because instead of historical fiction, the book often reads more like a romance. Women’s roles in the Vietnam War and their struggles once home deserve to be highlighted, but this novel does not do these topics justice, instead opting for cheesy romances and an unrealistic but happy resolution.

Review of THE BRINK OF SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL by Bobbi French (New Release)

 4 Stars

Readers who enjoyed the author’s previous novel, The Good Women of Safe Harbour, will also like this one.

It is 1999 in St. John’s, Newfoundland. Fifty-year-old Ruby Nolan is newly widowed. She is battling mixed emotions: she grieves the loss of her husband Joe but she also feels a sense of freedom from a marriage she never wanted. Ruby meets 18-year-old Maxine who knew Joe through his job as a penitentiary guard. The pregnant Maxine reminds Ruby of herself when she too was pregnant at a young age. She makes it her mission to help Maxine but it’s questionable whether she is trying to help the young woman or herself. Both her mother Vera and a friend tell her she must first take care of herself and deal with her own issues before helping someone else deal with hers.

Ruby is a likeable character. From the way she tries to help Maxine and the way she cares for her mother, who is suffering from dementia, it is obvious Ruby is loving, kind and compassionate. She is intelligent; not only did she earn the position of director of medical records at a hospital but she has a wide breadth of knowledge as shown in her excelling at trivia. She is a believable character because she has flaws which she acknowledges as the novel progresses. She speaks of being tied to her husband by grief and guilt and pity and penance. She knows that she is too concerned about the judgments of others.

Dynamic characters always appeal to me and Ruby is that. The novel shows her on a mid-life journey of discovery. She learns about herself and others. For instance, she seems focused on her unhappiness in her marriage but comes to realize that there was joy and that she underestimated and undervalued her husband. She also comes to see her mother in a different way and to view a family tragedy as not her fault.

Ruby is the narrator, but interspersed are some first-person chapters from Maxine’s perspective. I found myself frequently being frustrated with Maxine’s choices, but I had to keep in mind that she is in her late teens. Seeing her point of view means that though I did not agree with her decisions, I understood her motivation. However, is it realistic that she wouldn’t know about dementia or that she calls a concussion a percussion?

The characterization of Cory, Maxine’s partner, is well done. He’s not an admirable person, but the author makes an attempt to not portray him as totally villainous. For instance, Maxine believes that he is scared about the birth of his child and Ruby notices that he seems beaten down with “sad, lifeless eyes [which] hinted at suffering that had begun long before.” Cory’s life, as well as those of Ruby and Maxine, emphasizes the theme of intergenerational trauma.

Intimate partner and gender-based violence are a focus in the book. More than one character is a victim. However, I did find that sometimes there is a heavy-handedness to the message. Ruby thinks about “the dangerous lives of women” and how women must learn “how to bob and weave and cajole and soothe the ego of the weakest creature on the planet.” Ruby and her friends discuss the importance of women helping women because “Who else had boots on the ground? Not the cops and the judges. Not the politicians and priests. All those brave, righteous men, standing around holding their dicks while we were dying in droves.”

Besides actually referencing the village of Safe Harbour, the novel has thematic similarities with The Good Women of Safe Harbour: intergenerational friendships, found family, and the power of female friendship. The message of French’s first novel is that one should live the life of one’s own choosing and that too is a message in The Brink of Something Beautiful. At the end of the novel there is hope that Ruby, unbound from duty, can make her own choices for her life and salvage some of what she believes she lost because her life was constrained by time and place and circumstances and her own personality.

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

Review of INTO THE DARK by Ørjan Karlsson

 3.5 Stars

This is the second book in the Arctic Mysteries series after Into Thin Air which I reviewed a few days ago.

In the small coastal village of Kjerringøy in northern Norway, a mutilated body is found in the water. About the same time, about 30kms away, a young woman is found dead in her apartment in Bodø from an apparent suicide. Jakob Weber and his colleagues, Noora, Armann and Fine, investigate both cases. When a link is found between the victims, the team needs to consider that there could also be a connection between their deaths. And then the body count rises.

Readers would be wise to read Into Thin Air first. The main characters, of course, are introduced in the first book, but there are links to the case in that novel and a suspect in that case re-appears. Noora, for instance, was seriously injured and though she has returned to work, there is concern that she has not fully recovered either physically or psychologically. This becomes a source of tension: will she be able to assist her colleagues in a dangerous situation?

As in the previous book, the personal lives of the main characters are described. Jakob now has his teenaged half-brother, Ola André, living with him so that has required some adjustments, as has his tentative relationship with Sigrid, a journalist. Armann, on the other hand, is worried about his marriage since he and his wife seem to be drifting apart. I enjoy these glimpses into their home lives; they never overshadow the cases being investigated but make the characters more relatable.

Again, multiple points of view are presented, including that of the perpetrator. And also, as in the previous book, there are unanswered questions at the end. I mentioned in my review of Into Thin Air that I was especially anxious to learn more about Stein-Jarle’s discovery. As I read Into the Dark I kept looking for clues as to who the policeman might be and I have my suspicions, but I’ll have to wait for the next book to learn if I’m correct.

This novel has all the characteristics of Nordic Noir. It has the gloomy mood and the bleak landscape; for example, the mountains around the village seem brooding and menacing. And the storyline is dark. The violence and psychological trauma depicted reminded me of elements found in The Silence of the Lambs and in the Criminal Minds television series.

This book grabs readers from the beginning; the prologue indicates this will have lots of creepiness. People who enjoy intense, unsettling reads with disturbing details will love this book. And be prepared for a cliffhanger ending.