Review of THE LAST TENANT by Eva Björg Ægisdóttir (New Release)

 4 Stars

This is the sixth book in the Forbidden Iceland series and, like the others, a compelling read.

The remains of a young woman and a baby are uncovered at an abandoned farmhouse. Detective Elma Jónsdóttir, her partner Sævar, and her boss Hörður of West Iceland CID investigate to determine the identities of the deceased and how they came to be buried together, though they were clearly buried years apart. The woman is eventually identified as Sólrún Sveinsdóttir. Her disappearance had been believed to be a suicide but evidence now shows she was murdered.

There’s a second plot focused on Karitas Sól, a young single mother who moves to Akranes with her four-year-old son Bessi. She rents a basement apartment from Baldvin, an eccentric older man. He befriends Karitas and her son, but some of his behaviour worries Karitas. She meets Kristófer, a young man who lives next door, and the two become romantically involved. But then she learns that Sólrún, the murdered woman, had connections to both her landlord and her neighbour. Can she trust either of them?

As in the previous novels, Elma’s personal life is also part of the story. This time, Elma and Sævar are experiencing some relationship difficulties. Though they live together with their young daughter Adda, Elma knows that Sævar is keeping secrets from her. She thinks he may be seeing another woman. I enjoy these glimpses at Elma’s personal life, but I appreciate that they don’t overshadow the investigation.

Elma is a very likeable protagonist.  As always, she continues to show her intelligence and determination. Even when she has strong suspicions but no supporting evidence, she doesn’t hesitate to confront a person she suspects is guilty of a crime. She’s not perfect and that makes her authentic. She attends a party and reveals some information about the case and then is “tortured by self-recriminations” and has difficulty forgiving herself for what she perceives as negligence.

As I’ve mentioned in my reviews of previous books in this series, the author is a master of misdirection. I know to expect that in her books not everything is as it seems. Besides those of Elma and Karitas, the perspectives of various people connected to the case are given. These people harbour secrets and/or behave strangely, so there is no shortage of suspects. I identified a suspect and then thought I was proved to be correct, but I was wrong. I’m pleased that the one person I thought from the beginning was innocent is indeed so. But then there was someone I never suspected! It speaks to the writer’s skill that I was fully engaged in trying to solve the case as I read.

Readers looking for a meticulously plotted police procedural with engaging characters and a lot of psychological suspense need look no further.  Though the book can be read as a standalone, I recommend reading the books in order. All have received 4 stars from me.

Review of THE CORRESPONDENT by Virginia Evans

 4.5 Stars

I kept coming across this title but didn’t pay too much attention until I learned it won the 2026 Women’s Prize for Fiction. As suggested by the title, it’s an epistolary novel in the vein of 84 Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff, a book I loved which is even recommended to the protagonist.

Sybil Van Antwerp is a septuagenarian who retired from her job as a chief clerk to a judge in 1999. She is an inveterate letter writer; the novel includes letters written between June 2, 2012, and February 8, 2020. She writes to, among others, Felix, her brother; Rosalie, her best friend and sister-in-law; Fiona and Bruce, her adult children; Harry, the teenaged son of a former colleague; Theodore, her neighbour; and authors of books she’s read. Occasionally replies are included. There’s also a series of unsent letters to an unidentified recipient; these serve almost like Sybil’s diary. Sybil states that “the letters amount to who I am,” but advancing vision problems threaten her well-constructed life.

The novel is a character study because the reader gets to know Sybil’s personality. She’s fiercely intelligent and inordinately stubborn. She’s prickly. She’s speaks her mind, though always politely. And she’s capable of great love and generosity; what she did for Felix and does for Harry show these traits in abundance. Some of her epistles had me laughing out loud and others left me heart-broken.

Sybil’s letters are well-written. She admits, “It takes patience to say exactly what one means, to think of the right word. Sometimes I write a draft and mark it up, then write a clean copy to send.” (The last letter, more of an attempt than a draft, reveals so much about Sybil and her struggles.) It is also clear that the letters serve as a way of avoiding personal contact; she herself admits, “by conducting the most intimate relationships of my life in correspondence, I have kept, since I was a child, a distance between myself and others. I think it’s true the letters have insulated me, have been a force field.” Given her experiences, her need for distance is understandable.

Sybil freely offers opinions and advice to others but is not always given to self-reflection or accepting advice. When her best friend writes to her on August 20, 2017, to give her some advice about repairing a relationship, Sybil does not respond until September 18, 2018, over a year later. Her personal growth, though slow, does become obvious as evidenced in her reaching out to people like Fiona, Hattie, and Theodore. She acknowledges her failures and tries to make amends for past mistakes.

The novel is not plotless. Through the letters, we learn about Sybil’s life, including the great tragedy which shaped her life, her legal career, an unexpected family history, and the possibility of late-life romance. The letters also reveal her secrets, regrets, and overwhelming guilt.

I loved the book. Perhaps some of my enjoyment derives from reading about a woman who, like me, is “caught in the wretched web of aging.” Though I tend to rely on digital communication like everyone else these days, I love receiving hand-written cards. And I liked the many literary references: several of the letter writers exchange titles of books they’re currently reading. I highly recommend this novel.

Review of LOVE, AFTER ALL by Ewald Arenz

 4 Stars

I’m not a fan of romance novels, but this poignant love story won me over.

Clara Wagenbach, in her late forties, is a photographer who has just lost her job. Elias Kornfeld, in his thirties, is an actor. The two meet by chance when Elias’s girlfriend Vera arranges for them to view the cottage Clara is selling. The attraction between them is immediate and mutual and love blossoms as they spend time together. Fate, however, intervenes. Clara is offered a job in another part of the country and then Elias falls ill. Elias mentions that “Love was like a soft metal. It had to be honed in everyday life until it was both supple and firm.” Will their love survive?

Both characters are well-developed so feel authentic. Clara is independent, strong-willed and uncompromising; because she has been hurt in the past, she has built a protective wall: “She’d never wanted to open the door to herself to anyone.” Elias is charismatic but seems to use his acting skills in his personal life: he pretends to be happy though he feels he is in the wrong life. He seems afraid to totally commit to a relationship.

The perspectives of both Clara and Elias are presented so the reader gets to know them intimately. We may not agree with their decisions and choices, but we understand them. For example, Clara’s husband died of cancer and so her reluctance to open up is understandable. Considering the state of her marriage when Paul died, she vows, “If I ever love again, it will be completely and forever. No more compromises. Not with myself and not with the other person. And if that can’t be done, then it can’t be done.”

This is a book about mature love, not a young love. There is an age gap which particularly concerns Clara. They are not Romeo and Juliet and so cannot be rash since they both have adult responsibilities: Elias has a daughter, and Clara’s mother has dementia and her father suffers from paranoia. They have careers which are important to them.

Clara and Elias meet in the spring and every chapter includes some description of springtime which mirrors their developing relationship. Just as new buds form and flowers blossom, so does their love. And when there are problems between them, Clara notices “the trees were just plain green. That was how she felt. Yes. Alive. But not blooming.”

At one point, Elias quotes, “’Nothing is more various in its forms than love.’” The novel examines different types of love besides the romantic passion between Clara and Elias. There’s the love between siblings (Clara and Jan), the love of a parent for a child (Elias and Jules), and the love of children for parents (Jan and Clara’s care for their mother).

I do have a couple of quibbles. I had difficulty accepting Jan’s interference in Elias’s treatment. He speaks to him about test results though Elias is not his patient and then proposes a course of treatment without first consulting Elias’s doctors. I understand his motivation, but his actions are so unprofessional. I also didn’t understand why Clara receives the call from the care home at the end since she’s not an appointed guardian.

I’ve read the other novels by Ewald Arenz which have been translated into English: Tasting Sunlight and One Grand Summer. Though Love, After All is not my favourite of his, I do recommend it because it, like the others, shows exceptional emotional depth.

Here are links to my reviews of these other novels.

Tasting Sunlight: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/06/review-of-tasting-sunlight-by-ewald.html

One Grand Summer: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2024/07/review-of-one-grand-summer-by-ewald.html

Review of THE BIRTHING TREE by Amanda Peters (New Release)

4 Stars 

This novel, by the author of The Berry Pickers, is rooted in Mi’kmaq culture, specifically birthing trees. Women gave birth outdoors beneath sacred trees which were believed to strengthen the bonds of both mother and newborn to nature, ancestors, and culture.

This is a dual timeline narrative. It opens in 1964 when Aliet Paul is nine years old. She lives with Kiju, her grandmother, because her mother died giving birth to her. We learn about her upbringing; Kiju is focused on teaching her granddaughter about her culture and traditions. In the late 1990s, Aliet, now in her early 40s, is working as a nurse. She receives word that Kiju has died so Aliet returns to her childhood home. She comes to regret not fully listening to and appreciating Kiju’s lessons and sets out to reclaim her past and traditions. In the process she uncovers some family secrets.

I enjoyed learning about Mi’kmaq culture. I had never heard about birthing trees which symbolize maternal strength, the embrace of ancestors, and connection to the land. I loved Aliet’s explanation that “There is no word for goodbye in our language because there is no such thing. You can’t give a name to something that doesn’t exist. For us, we are always walking among the ancestors. We will see each other again someday is always true.”

Highlighted as well are examples of the mistreatment of Indigenous Peoples. Aliet speaks of her grandfather being buried at the edge of a Catholic graveyard: “Catholic enough to be buried there but too Indian to take space from the white folk.” Kiju owns her land on the edge of a village: “We all lived on the edges, a testament to our place in the world. Never at the centre, always on the periphery, easily forgotten, easily ignored.” When there is an attempt to move all of the Indians onto centralized reserves, Aliet comments: “The cruel irony of men in suits and shiny shoes trying to take away the land that had been stolen from us, the same land we bought back from the thieves.” Indigenous people, even children, are treated with suspicion and their traditions are disrespected. Spiritual practices are considered nonsense and superstition, traditional midwifery is considered uncivilized, and garbage is regularly left at the birthing tree.

I do have some issues. Parts of the book are predictable: it is easy, very early on, to guess what Aliet will uncover about her past. What I wondered, however, is when Kenneth learns the truth. He cannot know when he calls her an “orphan half-breed” though later he speaks as if he knew for a long time and justifies his behaviour because he had this knowledge: “’You never had to deal with him, and I was there all the time. . . . And I hated that you escaped it all and I couldn’t.’” I also wondered about a case of sexual assault: people know about a rape, but they take no action against the rapist? William just disappears from the story after serving his purpose?

The most memorable character for me is Kiju. She is a traditional midwife who relies on traditional medicine, teas, and spiritual practices to support mothers and bring children into the world. She is full of wisdom. Her passion for traditional ways is palpable. When hospital births are pushed on women who are drugged during labour, Kiju argues, “’How can you tell your own child their birth story if you can’t remember it yourself? How will they know where they came from, who they came from? . . . And you sleep through the most beautiful . . . And the lights, and the noise, so harsh on the ears of a newborn. And they steal the cord, the birth sac.’” I cheered at Kiju’s reaction to Mrs. Brown at the town hall meeting.

People who enjoyed The Berry Pickers (which is referenced more than once in this novel) will like this one as well. It has much to recommend it.

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

Review of A QUESTION OF GUILT by Jørn Lier Horst

 3.5 Stars

This is the last book of the Cold Case Quartet featuring William Wisting.

Wisting is on vacation but he receives anonymous notes that soon have him returning to work. The notes direct him to a 1999 case, the killing of a teenager, Tone Vaterland. Her ex-boyfriend Danny Momrak was convicted and sentenced to 17 years in prison. He has since been released. The notes imply that Danny is innocent and the real murderer escaped charges because of an incompetent police investigation. Wisting sets out to find out who sent the notes, and when he realizes that there were gaps in the original investigation, he tries to fill them in. Was Danny wrongfully convicted and is the real killer still free?

The calm and determined Wisting is very much at the centre of the investigation. His intelligence and his attention to detail make all the difference. When he finds lines of inquiry that were not followed up and unanswered questions in the initial investigation, he makes sure nothing is overlooked this time. Even when evidence seems irrefutable, he continues questioning. He is introduced to new forensic techniques and embraces them.

The plot is convoluted as Wisting leaves no stone unturned. There are lines of inquiry that prove to be dead ends, but following them guarantees that in the end there will be no question of the perpetrator’s guilt. There are flashbacks to 1999 and there are some scenes from subsequent years as well as the present; however, I found the plot easy to follow.

Characters from the previous books reappear. I enjoyed Maren Dokken for whom Wisting is a mentor, though she also teaches him some new investigative methods. Adrian Stiller shows up, but he’s less manipulative than in the past. Wisting’s daughter Line is present but not involved in the case; I like this because I found her involvement in previous cases intrusive and unrealistic. Actually there is a minor subplot involving Line and a boyfriend, but I wondered why it was included because it seems pointless.

I enjoyed the descriptions of a region of Norway which my husband and I plan to visit this fall. We will be taking the E18 between Kristiansand and Oslo and will stop at some of the towns along that route mentioned in the novel. I will definitely be thinking of Wisting and these novels as we tour Oslo and environs.

Review of THE TRUTH ABOUT RUBY COOPER by Liz Nugent (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

I really looked forward to reading this novel since I very much enjoyed previous books by the author such as Little Cruelties and Strange Sally Diamond. Unfortunately this one did not resonate with me as much as the others did.

Ruby and her older sister Erin live a comfortable life with their parents, Maureen and Doug, until 1999 when Ruby is sixteen and involved in an incident with Erin’s boyfriend Milo. The family is ripped apart: Ruby’s mother takes her to Dublin but Erin stays with her father in Boston. The novel follows their lives for the next 25 years. Erin struggles with trust issues for years whereas Ruby indulges in self-destructive behaviours. But then it seems that the truth about the incident has not been told. What will be the consequences if that truth is revealed?

The book is being marketed as a psychological suspense novel, but I found it more of a drama about a family fracturing because of choices made and secrets kept. Multiple points of view are presented but the focus is on Ruby and Erin’s perspectives.

Ruby is not a likeable character. Her insecurity and jealousy of her sister is obvious from the beginning: the last sentence of the prologue is “I blame my sister” and the first sentence of the first chapter is “If my sister hadn’t been beautiful, none of it would have happened.” This envy is her motivation throughout. Her behaviour at the beginning may be excusable; she is young and immature and so doesn’t know how to manage her emotions. However, she never matures, always remaining self-centred, as demonstrated by her behaviour towards Jack and her daughter Lucy, and never accepting responsibility, as demonstrated by her justifications for her choices. It’s interesting that Jack repeatedly calls Ruby a liar when he first meets her and that more than one person thinks there’s something wrong with her. What they don’t realize, but the reader knows, is how manipulative she really can be.

I had difficulty accepting the choices made by Ruby and Erin’s mother. I understand her motivation is protecting her child, but she could have prevented so much tragedy. It’s obvious that she feels a lot of guilt; I suspected early on that she was trying to make amends, even though anonymously. Her brief section towards the end does clarify her reasons somewhat and emphasizes the impact of choices made and secrets kept.

I found pacing problematic. Initially I was really interested, but once the truth is revealed a quarter of the way through, I found the book dragged. It felt repetitive and predictable, with no real surprises. The only suspense revolves around what Ruby will do next; it’s like waiting for an inevitable car crash. Then at the end, everything seems wrapped up very quickly. Because the novel spans over 25 years, there’s a lot of telling, rather than showing.

As I mentioned at the beginning, I didn’t find this as compelling as the other novels I’ve read by the author. It is, nonetheless, an interesting book which touches on a number of serious topics such as sexual assault, alcoholism, the damaging power of jealousy, and the lasting impact of secrets and lies.

Here are links to my reviews of other novels by Liz Nugent:

Little Cruelties: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2020/11/review-of-little-cruelties-by-liz.html

Strange Sally Diamond: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/07/review-of-strange-sally-diamond-by-liz.html

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

Review of THE SUBSTITUTE by Nicole Lundrigan

3.5 Stars 

The psychological suspense novels of Canadian author Nicole Lundrigan have become my go-to books when I’m looking for an audiobook for my morning walks.

This one has chapters which alternate between two perspectives. There’s that of Warren Botts narrated in omniscient third person. He’s a PhD student taking a leave of absence and teaching science in a middle school. The other point of view, in first person, is that of an unnamed and ungendered teenager identified only as Kiddle. When Amanda Fuller, one of Warren’s students, is found dead by hanging in his backyard, suspicion falls on him though the reader may come to suspect Kiddle.

It is the character of Kiddle that I found most interesting. With a lack of empathy, lack of remorse, and antisocial behavior, s/he fits the definition of a psychopath. Cold, speaking of love as a meaningless emotion, and calculating, s/he carefully plans actions. What also stands out is Kiddle’s exceptional intelligence.

Kiddle and Warren share much in common. Both are solitary people. Kiddle often avoids interacting with people, having an attachment only to a sister named Button and a neighbour who treats Kiddle as an intellectual equal. Warren has only one close friend. Both Kiddle and Warren are socially inept. Kiddle blurts out inappropriate comments whereas Warren counts obsessively to calm his anxiety. Both have fractured families: a dead father, a younger sister to whom they are close, and emotionally distant mothers.

Suspense arises from trying to identify Kiddle and figure out whether s/he is connected to Amanda’s death. What is the motivation for her murder, if she was murdered? It is inevitable that the novel’s two plotlines will eventually intersect, but how? The similarities between Kiddle and Warren even suggest that they might be past and present versions of the same person. Of course Kiddle’s identity is revealed in the end, but there are clues throughout. The novel is well-crafted so the clues are subtle, but a discerning reader might accurately guess Kiddle’s identity.

The title is perfect. Warren is a substitute teacher, but there are other substitutions as well. Certainly, the book will leave readers thinking about the impact of childhood experiences and wondering whether there can ever be an adequate replacement for a lost or neglectful parent.

Though rather slow-paced, this is a chilling read appropriate for a hot summer day. Even at the end, there is a lingering unease which will send a chill down one’s spine.

Review of WHISTLER by Ann Patchett

 4 Stars

This is a gentle, comforting read.

During a museum visit, Daphne Fuller reconnects with her former stepfather, Eddie Triplett. They haven’t seen each other for 44 years since she was nine years old and the two of them were involved in a serious car accident. Their reunion has her looking back on her childhood and slowly coming to see people and events with new eyes.

The novel’s chapters focus on Daphne’s perspective but there are four interstitial sections which provide a third-person account of the accident in January of 1980.

The book will leave readers wishing they had Eddie as a stepfather. He is calm, capable, and charming. He is highly respected in his job and popular at social gatherings. He has a wonderful sense of humour. Eddie and Daphne have a strong bond because they both love reading and books and because of the traumatic experience they shared. It’s obvious that Eddie left an indelible mark on Daphne’s life.

One major theme is how children often misunderstand adult relationships. For instance, Daphne has always held herself responsible for the divorce between Eddie and her mother Abigail because they divorced immediately after the accident. Eddie, however, gives her information that makes her see what happened in an entirely different light. In the end, she reaches a conclusion: “I wondered what anyone ever knows about another person’s relationship. . . . I realized the answer was nothing.” And she comes to see how her mother was heroic in dire circumstances that Daphne does not think she herself could have survived.

There are other messages as well: the power of storytelling, how childhood never leaves us, and how even tragedies can have positive consequences. The latter is particularly clear: the illness of Daphne’s biological father brings the two of them together and brings the man who would become her husband into her life. Daphne has always thought of her and her sister Leda’s childhoods as difficult, especially because Abigail seemed largely indifferent to them, but Leda points out, “’We were loved, not passionately but enough, and we were largely ignored, which allowed for our healthy separation from the primary family. Necessity made us resourceful and brave. We were left to solve our own problems and so we did.’”

The picture of the horse on the cover and the book’s title suggest this is an equestrian-centric novel; in fact, I thought it might be like Horse by Geraldine Brooks. The reference is to a story told by Eddie to Daphne the night of the accident about a horse named Whistler who rescues his owner. In the end, the reader will probably think about how Daphne was Eddie’s Whistler in the past, but he is her Whistler in the present. Though in different ways, they do rescue each other.

I’ve liked Ann Patchett’s novels like The Dutch House (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2020/06/review-of-dutch-house-by-ann-patchett.html) and Tom Lake (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/11/review-of-tom-lake-by-ann-patchett.html). This one I also enjoyed.

Review of GHOST NOTES by Doug Johnstone

 4 Stars

This is the seventh book in the Skelfs series which follows a multi-generational family of female funeral directors and private investigators.

As in the previous books, chapters alternate among the three women. Dorothy, the matriarch, investigates the grief tech industry. Is there a connection between a man’s death by suicide and the digital avatar of his daughter who died months earlier? Could a bot have encouraged him to commit suicide?

Jenny, Dorothy’s daughter, is asked by a former schoolmate to find out who is attempting to blackmail her. Jenny quickly comes to suspect that Robin is not telling her everything. Things certainly become more complicated when men connected to Robin die in strange circumstances.

Hannah, Jenny’s daughter, is shocked by the unexpected arrival of Yannis, Indy’s ex-boyfriend, whom Indy has never mentioned to her wife. His appearance reveals more about Indy’s past and also brings a threatening menace into their lives.

A visit with these three women is always enjoyable. There is so much to admire about them: they are strong, capable, and compassionate people. What makes them relatable, however, is that they are also flawed. Hannah, for instance, starts to question how well she knows her wife. When she is reminded that she perhaps has misjudged Indy, Hannah feels “shame at her own self-centredness, but she also didn’t want to give up her anger so easily.” Jenny, on the other hand, has engaged in self-destructive behaviours in the past; her tendency to backslide is aggravating since she has a relationship with the wonderful, almost-too-good-to-be-believable Archie.

Also as in the previous books, the theme of connection appears. Dorothy often thinks of “the interconnectedness of things” and tries to bring people together to make connections. Music especially makes her feel “how we’re all connected over millennia.” Hannah echoes this idea in a different way: “Our bodies were made up of elements formed in the furnaces of distance stars at the beginning of the universe.” Even Jenny, during a terramation, reflects that a body “becoming something else in this strange, connected world.”

This, as all the Skelfs books, is eminently readable. The fluid style and short, punchy chapters make for a fast read, and the seamless plotting and engaging characters insure a compelling read. And its message is life-affirming: “People were fucked up” but “despite everything bad in the world, human decency always found a way.”

If you are not already a Skelfaholic, start at the beginning of the series. See my reviews of the books:

A Dark Matter: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/12/review-of-dark-matter-by-doug-johnstone.html

The Big Chill:  https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/01/review-of-big-chill-by-doug-johnstone.html

The Great Silence: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/02/review-of-great-silence-by-doug.html

Black Hearts: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/04/review-of-black-hearts-by-doug-johnstone.html

The Opposite of Lonely: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/10/review-of-opposite-of-lonely-by-doug.html

Living is a Problem: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2024/09/review-of-living-is-problem-by-doug.html

Review of ASHA IN HER GARDEN by Anita Rau Badami (New Release)

4 Stars 

I’ve read all of Anita Rau Badami’s novels (Tamarind Mem, The Hero’s Walk, Can You Hear the Nightbird Call? and Tell it to the Trees) and have enjoyed them all. Asha in Her Garden, the latest, after a 15-year hiatus, is no exception.

The novel begins with seventy-year-old Asha Mohan witnessing the cutting down of an old maple tree in her Montreal back yard. This tree shaded her beloved garden, her sanctuary since she and her husband Suresh bought the house after moving from India decades earlier. The tree’s removal serves as an impetus for Asha’s examining her life, all the way back to her childhood in Bangalore, its joys and sorrows, and her relationships with her family. She wonders if she can change those things she doesn’t like. Can she reconfigure her life just as the removal of the tree reconfigures her garden?

It is the character of Asha that is central to the book. She is a complex, authentic character. She is what would be termed “a force to be reckoned with.” From an early age, she decides “She would be loud and demanding, a force in a world where noisy and pushy and forceful equalled success.” And she is certainly successful in her career. Her son Dilip thinks of his mother as indomitable, noisy, and strong. Suresh fell in love with “her independent nature, her sharp mind, her strength and willingness to take chances.”

But we also see Asha’s flaws. She is a proud person who angers easily. Added to these is her inability to apologize. Suresh comments, “That was her problem. She could not bring herself to admit she was wrong.” As one would expect, these traits affect her relationships with her family, especially Suresh, Dilip, and her cousin Meru. Asha herself also comes to realize that her desire to be independent caused her to make some poor choices: “Now she resented everyone in her family because she had made the wrong choices – she knew it was unfair of her, but she could not stop being angry.” There is no doubt that she loves her family, but she is also often annoyed by them. All of this makes her relatable.

There are several themes. One is a lesson Asha is taught by her uncle: “’What you see . . . or hear . . . is usually not the true nature of a thing.’” She seems to learn this lesson, later commenting, “How you describe a thing depends on how you look at it, and there were as many ways of looking at a thing as there were leaves on a tree.”

What remains with me is the comments about life. Life is not easy. At times it can feel, like Asha’s garden, a ruined landscape, but at other times, “like her perennials which went down every year and then burgeoned back,” life brings joys. When faced with death, Asha decides, “Life was amazing. It was magic. It was this tiny seed of hope, converted into all manner of things.” Change is inevitable, but even when it seems undesirable it can be positive. For example, the cutting of the tree brings “a vast openness” full of potential. Life is all about “The keeping, the letting go. Breathing in and breathing out. You do these things to live when you have breath, and when your life is done, you let go.”

I enjoyed this novel. It’s beautifully written with many descriptions of flowers and trees which serve as metaphors for Asha’s life. And its comments about life are as relatable as is the character of the flawed but admirable Asha.

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

Review of THE INNER DARKNESS by Jørn Lier Horst

 3.5 Stars

This is the third book of the Nordic noir series the Cold Case Quartet featuring William Wisting.

A serial killer, Tom Kerr, has agreed to reveal the resting place of his last victim. During the site visit, however, Kerr escapes. The police have long suspected that Kerr had an unknown accomplice whom they have dubbed as the Other One. Now it seems this collaborator has helped Kerr to escape. Both Kerr and the Other One are considered evil, possessing an inner darkness defined as “’an urge to inflict pain on other human beings.’” Wisting and his team are determined to recapture Kerr and also identify and capture the Other One. But can they do so before there are other victims?

As always, Wisting is likeable. He is intelligent, kind, calm, determined and principled. What bothered me however, is his willingness to accept blame when Kerr escapes. He acknowledges often having a sense of inadequacy, but this time he feels “an uncontrollable, relentless sense of guilt.” The operation may not have been perfectly executed, but Adrian Stiller, I think, is much more to blame. Wisting is used as a scapegoat. He even acknowledges Stiller’s being blinded by ambition: “The fact that the site visit had culminated in an escape seemed like an alternative Stiller had envisaged and planned for.” Yet Wisting never points out Stiller’s culpability.

Stiller has appeared in the previous two books in the series and, again, I find him problematic. He is described as “a meticulous investigator” but Line admits that she finds him unreliable because “he always harboured an ulterior motive in everything he did.” He’s an ambitious man who keeps his agenda hidden from others. Then when things go wrong, he seems willing to let others take the fall. He does redeem himself a bit towards the end, but I suspect he will show up unchanged in the next book.

Wisting’s daughter Line is once again heavily involved. She videotapes the site visit operation for the police with the promise that she will later be able to use the footage in a planned documentary. Then she pushes herself further into the case, weakly arguing that “’I was there when Tom Kerr did a runner. I still have a sore head from the explosion. I can’t just wait until it’s over. I won’t be able to rest until he’s safely back in jail.’” It’s irritating how much she leaves her daughter in the care of others. And it’s inevitable that she will get herself into a dangerous situation from which her father must rescue her.

I did find the plot somewhat predictable. I guessed the identity of the Other One early on. It’s almost too obvious. Then the psychiatrist’s description of the Other One as “’a person who has created the illusion of altruism and modesty, someone expert at concealing his egotistical and egocentric motives and who appears for all the world to be honest, good-natured and even noble’” cinched it for me.

There is another description that caught my attention: “The abuse of authority, subjugation and control, and domination of the will of others provided evil with fertile soil in which to flourish, and at the same time both blind obedience and uncritical loyalty to absolute rules were what could transform peaceful democracies into fascist dictatorships.” Did the author have a particular country in mind?

With its short chapters, the novel is a quick read. It starts slowly but picks up pace, and tension increases as the element of danger increases for several people. It’s perfect for an entertaining summer read.

Review of FREYJA by Margrét Ann Thors (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This psychological suspense novel is set in Iceland.

In 2018 Unnur is a single mother to seven-year-old Lilja. She lives a quiet life in Reykjavík, but she is haunted by what happened when she was eleven years old and living in the remote Dark Valley. There she befriended Freyja who mysteriously vanished one night. Unnur has only fragments of memories of what happened that night so she worries that she might have been somehow responsible for Freyja’s disappearance.

When Unnur’s ex-husband returns to Iceland, he is accompanied by a new girlfriend Lóa who seems to know a lot about Unnur’s past. Lóa is a detective who opens a cold case investigation into Freyja’s disappearance so Unnur is desperate to recover her memories of what happened almost three decades earlier. If she is implicated in Freyja’s presumed death, Lilja would be taken from her.

The chapters alternate between the past (1990-1991) set in southern Iceland and the present (2028) set in both Reykjavík and Dark Valley. Unnur is the narrator, but, as she admits, she is an unreliable one because of her broken memories. Also there is much she did not understand when she was a pre-teen.

Unnur’s love for Lilja is her outstanding trait; she will do anything to keep her daughter safe. There are times, however, where her behaviour is rather strange. She commits a crime to take back a possession that means a great deal to her. Considering the nature of the crime, it’s impossible that her guilt will not be discovered. And if this item means so much to her, why didn’t she get it earlier? She had ample time and could easily have acquired it without committing a crime. (And how did the thief who stole this item know about its importance to Unnur?) Why doesn’t Unnur tell Geir the truth when he’s so open to hearing her story? Instead she confides in Pétur, a man she’s just met? She leaves her key in her car and doesn’t shut the door?

The behaviour of the villain is far-fetched. I’ve heard about playing the long game, but the amount of patience and strategic planning required are unbelievable. Naming a child after a hated person makes no sense. And Nói’s obliviousness seems extreme.

The plot relies too much on coincidence. A novel based on Freyja’s story has just been published, a journalist becomes interested in the case, and Lóa returns to Iceland, all at virtually the same time. Then there’s the timing of the meeting between Elias and Palli. The revelations are timed just too perfectly. Unnur strokes the image on a photo and her memories return?

The novel examines memory and how unreliable it can be. Certainly memories of traumatic events can be buried so Unnur’s fragmented memories make sense. However, her having no memory whatsoever of one person seems strange, especially because she does remember a visit to the church in Dark Valley.

I fell in love with Iceland when I visited a few years ago, so I loved the descriptions of the setting. Of course, when I read about the black sand beach of Dark Valley, I pictured Reynisfjara with its cave, basalt columns, sea stacks, and the dangerous sneaker waves.

This book has some typical weaknesses of a debut novel, but it is entertaining nonetheless. I will be on the lookout for the author’s next offering.

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

Review of SEND FOR ME by Lauren Fox

 3 Stars

This book is historical fiction but based on the author’s family letters.

Klara and Julius own a bakery in Feldenheim, Germany. They have a daughter Annelise who, as a young girl, yearns for more than working with her parents in the family business. Eventually she marries Walter and they have a daughter, Ruth. In 1938, Annelise, Walter, and Ruth leave for the U.S. amidst rising anti-Semitism. They settle in Milwaukee and try to arrange for Klara and Julius to join them. After Annelise’s death, her granddaughter Clare finds a cache of letters from Klara to Annelise.

The narrative weaves between the perspectives of Annelise and Clare, interspersed with excerpts from Klara’s letters. Briefly the points of view of Julius, Walter, and other secondary characters are also given. There is little plot, but the reader does see Annelise growing up and then building a new life in the U.S. Then there’s Clare; we see her in her late twenties as she finds it difficult to be far from her childhood home though she is in a relationship with Matthew, a graduate student who will be returning to London in a few months.

I enjoyed the first part of the novel focusing on life in Germany, but as the plot became more fragmented, I lost interest. Much is vague, left unexplained, so I found myself disconnected from the story. Some things that are included seem purposeless. What, for instance, is the purpose of the attraction between Annelise and her husband’s best friend?

I found the characters lacklustre. Clare, for instance, strikes me as whiny young woman waiting for a man. Annelise is also a problem for me. She mentions missing her parents, especially her mother, but she doesn’t seem to worry about what is happening in Germany. She focuses on her new life and suffers anguish about the possessions she had to leave behind. There is a sense of detachment to her; perhaps she distances herself emotionally from what is happening in her home country, but I ended up feeling detached from her.

It is Klara’s letters which I found most interesting – and heartbreaking. Her anguish over the loss of her daughter and granddaughter is palpable. Klara is desperate to be reunited with them. She doesn’t describe conditions in Germany, at least not in any detail, but her obvious anxiety, even if we are given only one sentence, says more than is needed.

The novel is about the legacy of family separation. We see the pain passed down among women of four generations. Clare, the fourth generation, says it’s impossible for her to move far away from her parents; even a few days away is traumatic. She tells Matthew that she can’t leave her parents, that is just not done: “He could never really understand the primordial soup from which she had emerged. She was obligation and reparation, rupture and remedy.”

The prose is beautiful but the fragmented and vague plotline, the colourless characters, and the abrupt ending left me unsatisfied. The entire book just felt flat. I appreciate the theme, but found that it is not developed in an interesting way.

Review of GETTING AWAY WITH MURDER by Shari Lapena (New Release)

3.5 Stars 

This is another domestic suspense novel by an author considered by many to be a master of the genre.

Jill and Ted Westcott love their luxury Brooklyn Heights brownstone the way other people love their children. It’s their sanctuary which they’ve expensively renovated and decorated to reflect their tastes. Unfortunately they cannot continue their lifestyle because Ted’s inheritance has run out and he has made some ruinous investments. Since losing the house is unthinkable for them, they decide to murder Ted’s brother Greg from whom they will inherit millions. With the killing disguised as a tragic accident, they believe they can get away with murder.

The novel made me think of Macbeth because both the novel and Shakespeare’s play focus on the aftermath of a murder and its effect on the perpetrators. (Jill even compares herself to Lady Macbeth at one point.) Jill and Ted believe they can escape any consequences as long as they didn’t make any mistakes, as long as they can trust each other, and as long as there are no surprises. Of course, not all goes as planned because they begin to receive blackmail text messages indicating someone else knows what they did.

Soon after these texts arrive, paranoia sets in. Who could possibly know what they did? They begin to suspect the blackmailer could be someone they know so friendships and relationships are impacted. They start to realize that others are ultimately unknowable. Could others be jealous of their good fortune? And, in fact, how solid is their marriage: can they really trust each other to not make self-interest a priority?

As I suspect most readers will, I identified the blackmailer quickly. There are really limited options so it’s quite obvious who is connected. In fact, I think the author expects us to correctly guess. Ted and Jill, however, panic and suspect everyone. Their choices end up making their situation worse by inadvertently revealing their guilt to others. It’s impossible not to laugh at some of their ridiculous decisions – until the consequences become serious.

It would be difficult to find a more unsympathetic couple than Ted and Jill. They are cold and heartless and morally corrupt. They don’t experience guilt at what they did; they are just paranoid that they will be caught and so are willing to do whatever is necessary to prevent that. They are wealthy and privileged but greedy, insisting on holding on to the brownstone, their prized possession, regardless of the consequences to others. And they are so willing to see themselves as victims; Ted complains that he doesn’t deserve what is happening to him because “He’d always been a good person, and Greg had it coming. It’s not Ted’s fault that Greg was such a bastard and that he left him all that money.”

I really enjoyed reading about how Jill and Ted’s perceptions of themselves and each other change. Ted, for instance, decides that “He’s not a soft, effete product of privilege. He’s much more than that. He has been tested, and he has found a way to survive.” He acknowledges that he is greedy and ruthless and has a chip on his shoulder. When things go wrong, he starts to become critical of Jill; he thinks she is not being as grateful and supportive as she should be. He even calls her a shrew and thinks that she is still beautiful but “perhaps not quite as beautiful as before.”

I found the ending underwhelming; I wanted more. However, given the repeated comments about the consequences of the wealthy behaving despicably, the ending is appropriate. The book is a brisk, entertaining read, perfect for the summer.

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

Review of AN UNTHINKABLE THING by Nicole Lundrigan

 3.5 Stars

I prefer my audiobooks to be escapist, and this one fit the bill.

Beginning in 1958, the story is narrated by 11-year-old Tommie Ware. Aunt Celia, the woman who raised him, is murdered by a serial killer. Tommie is forced to move in with his mother Esther, a live-in housekeeper for the prominent Henneberry family. Hers is not a glamorous existence: she lives in a very small room and is at the family’s beck and call. The family has agreed to allow Tommie to stay for the summer until Esther can make other arrangements.

Tommie soon finds himself enmeshed with the Henneberry family: Muriel, the heavily medicated matriarch, expects him to indulge her whims; 15-year-old Martin, a bully and budding psychopath, uses him as a pawn in his despicable games; and Raymond, a philanderer, is just eager to have Tommie gone. And then there are the unsettling encounters with the neighbour, Mrs. Grimshaw, who seems to know a lot about the family though her mental health issues make her an unreliable witness.

Interspersed with Tommie’s narrative are news clips about and actual testimony from Tommie’s trial. Near the end of his summer stay with them, he is charged with the murder of the entire Henneberry family. I never believed Tommie to be guilty though many consider him a logical suspect. There is a definite contrast between the Tommie the reader gets to know and the one portrayed in court.

The Henneberrys are not likeable. They are a rich family behaving very badly, but their wealth gives them power and protects them so they are seen as pillars of the community. In actuality, however, one must search carefully to find a redeemable trait in any of them. Because we learn her backstory, Muriel does perhaps gain some sympathy, but her feelings of superiority and treatment of others overshadow any positive feelings a reader might have. Dr. Henneberry is an unfaithful husband who teaches his son that all women are “asking for it.” And Martin, with his overdeveloped sense of entitlement, has learned that lesson well.

Tommie is a foil for the Henneberry family members. He is sweet and innocent. Though he senses that there is something wrong with the behaviour of all of them, he doesn’t know how to express his misgivings. He wants to do the right thing, but often finds himself unable to react appropriately. He’s the character for whom it is impossible not to have sympathy because he has to come to terms with the death of his beloved aunt and has his entire life uprooted.

The title is perfect. Many unthinkable things happen, atrocious acts that almost defy description. But then there’s the epilogue where a much older Thomas reveals a secret!

Parts of the plot are predictable and the pace is slow in places, but I found the book an entertaining companion on morning walks.

Review of UNDER THE BLAZING SUN by Jenny Lund Madsen

 3 Stars

I had the same issues with this novel as I did with the first book in the series, Thirty Days of Darkness (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2023/07/review-of-thirty-days-of-darkness-by.html).

Hannah Krause-Bendix is sent by her editor to a luxurious villa in Sicily. His hope is that she will write a second crime novel that will be as successful as her first. Shortly after arrival, however, Hannah finds herself involved in a murder case. Against police orders, she begins her own investigation. (The premise is the same as in Thirty Days of Darkness in which Hannah is sent to Iceland to write.)

I find Hannah to be very unlikeable. Her arrogance becomes tiresome and annoying. She is constantly whining and wallowing in self-pity. To say she is condescending is almost an understatement: she thinks herself everyone’s superior. She even thinks of herself as a writer of high-quality literature though she is best known for writing romances. She is not a skilled investigator; she herself mentions that she stumbles upon evidence. Is she intended as a spoof of an amateur detective: an over-the-top, self-important character with no investigative skills? I kept thinking I should be amused by her but I wasn’t. She has a serious drinking problem, and I find it difficult to laugh at that.

As in Thirty Days of Darkness, there is an over-reliance on the tired clichés of crime fiction. Of course the police are incompetent and rush to conclusions. And because the novel is set in Sicily, the Mafia must make an appearance. If the book is poking fun at the tropes of crime novels, I guess it works.

The reader is certainly required to suspend disbelief. Hannah has a lot of lucky breaks: a screwdriver is found in an unlikely spot but at the most convenient time. And, again as in Thirty Days of Darkness, serious physical injuries don’t impede the injured? Then there are the inconsistencies: police tell Hannah not to involve herself in the murder case, but they let her speak to the victim’s husband at the police station? One minute Hannah suggests Lucette can talk some sense into someone because she knows him, but then minutes later Hannah suggests she herself knows him and so might be able to talk some sense into him? She stuffs a taser into her waistband but then drops it when she sees something shocking?

The most entertaining parts are the exchanges between Hannah and Jørn Jensen. In these sections, the humour shines; otherwise, I didn’t find the book funny. And as crime fiction, I found the book superficial and contrived with little tension. This book is second in the series, entitled Murder by the Book, a series marketed as a mystery series, and the award nominations for the first book are for crime fiction. So, again, I’m confused as to how I should read this book – comedy or crime fiction?

As I’ve mentioned many times before in my reviews, I have difficulty appreciating humour in written form. My rating, therefore, is intended to show that I recognize that it may not be the book that is deficient but this particular reader.

Review of IN WONDERLAND by Joyce Maynard (New Release)

3.5 Stars 

This is a coming-of-age story set in 1986 in Maine.

Fourteen-year-old Frances is hired by Regina and Forrest Emerson to be a mother’s helper for the summer at their lakefront home named Wonderland. She has to help look after 12-year-old Hayward and 6-year-old Jilly but her responsibilities are not that taxing. She finds many benefits that she doesn’t have in her home. She is given a shiny new bike and eventually gets tennis lessons at the country club. Best of all, she is able to spend time with Forrest, her father’s charismatic friend.

As expected, Wonderland proves not to be the paradise it initially seems. Frances witnesses the intimate lives and secrets of adults who prove not to be as reliable as she thought. As indicated by the prologue, the summer ends with a death that shatters the family. The book focuses on the events of the summer leading up to this death.

Frances is the narrator so the reader sees everyone and every event from her perspective. Obviously her reliability as a narrator comes into play. She is desperate for attention, something she does not get from her own parents who are focused on their contentious relationship. Because Forrest shows her some attention, she develops a crush on him. When Forrest’s attentions turn elsewhere, Frances’ loyalty shifts to Regina who takes an interest in her. The problem, as she realizes later, is that she is naive and too involved in her own situation to fully understand anyone else’s.

Frances is a very believable teenager. She is very conscious of her body; she is troubled that she has not yet developed breasts and has not started to menstruate. Most of the time she feels invisible and she desperately wants to be noticed and to feel important; this desire is her major motivation. She’s an insecure outsider who doesn’t seem to fit in anywhere. She is interested in sex, but knows very little about it.

By the end of the summer, Frances learns a great deal. She learns to play tennis and she learns about the physical aspects of sex. She comes to appreciate her father’s brutal honesty which contrasts with Forrest’s ability to lie easily. Hayward annoys her throughout, but in the end she recognizes that he is not that different from her. And, of course, she learns a lot about adults, including how they have secrets and may behave less than honourably. Her feelings for Forrest change; she finds she can still love a version of him but she doesn’t like or respect him.

As I read, I developed an intense dislike for Forrest. It’s obvious that he is charming and most people find him irresistible, but I found his behaviour disturbing. When Frances first arrives, he pays her a lot of attention, almost as if he is grooming her. Even if his intentions are innocent, a 37-year-old man should be more aware of how his actions might affect a teenager. He even makes her promises which he doesn’t keep. When Brenda comes along, Frances sees another side to Forrest: he’s a liar and serial adulterer. Frances’ father Hank is Forrest’s best friend so presumably he knows about his activities. So I kept wondering why would Hank entrust his daughter to such a man?

I did have some issues with the novel. It’s a slow burn with needless repetition. The chapters are short, but some just seem unnecessary. At the end there are elements I found problematic. Who saves a fake suicide note on their computer? And the courtroom scenes and verdict are unconvincing. Why, for instance, is Frances allowed to hear the testimony of others before she herself takes the stand? Prospective witnesses remain outside the courtroom until they are called to testify to ensure they do not alter or tailor their own evidence based on what they hear.

The best aspect of this novel is its portrayal of the interior life of a teenaged girl. Frances’ choices and behaviour are not always admirable, but perfectly understandable.

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

Review of CONVICTION by Elizabeth H. Winthrop (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

This novel made me think of the conflict between passion and reason and even reminded me of Romeo and Juliet and their rash decisions.

After 9/11, Maggie, raised a “Christian atheist,” converts to Islam. In 2012, she leaves Maine to live in New York City where she gets a job at a bakery owned by a Kurdish man named Sirvan. There she meets and falls in love with Sirvan’s son Ahmet. Angered by what he sees happening in Syria, Ahmet leaves to join a new rebel group emerging there, believing that ISIS will create a Muslim utopia. Without telling anyone beforehand, Maggie joins Ahmet in 2015. Once in Syria, she slowly comes to realize the magnitude of her error when she sees the brutality of ISIS.

The novel gives two perspectives: that of Maggie and that of Ann, her mother left behind in Maine. When she learns that Maggie has left for Syria, Ann grieves the loss of her daughter, worries about Maggie’s welfare, and is also confused, constantly wondering “just how it happened, how her daughter got from here to there, from Maine to Syria, from baking cakes to slinging guns across her back.” There are also snippets of the life of Noor and her family. Noor is a midwife in Syria forced to assist in delivering ISIS babies. From the beginning, the question is whether Maggie’s story and that of Noor will intersect

Maggie’s character is a key element in the novel. Her father describes her as possessing strong ideals and a will of steel. She becomes obsessed with what is happening in Syria; in fact, her father “wishes she would moderate; fixating isn’t going to do anyone any good.” She is horrified not only by Assad’s atrocities but is also angered by the treatment of Muslims in her own country and “always eager to expand her catalogue of atrocities wrought by US foreign policy.” Her desire to help is certainly understandable.

What is less easy to understand is her naivety. She allows her passion to overcome her reason; she really has no idea what awaits her in Syria. By going there, she knows she will be considered a terrorist by her own country, yet she never questions why ISIS might have been designated a terrorist group. I know that I’m reading the novel in 2026 when much more is known about ISIS, but she fully understands that she is going to a war zone and that she won’t be able to return to the US. Sirvan even warns Maggie about his son: “’Ahmet sometimes lets his passions get him into trouble. I would say to you, don’t you let your passions get you into trouble too. . . . His passion is infectious, but he can be headstrong.’”

Maggie’s love for Ahmet is a reason for her decision to join him in Syria, but their relationship is not fully developed. All they have in common is their faith and their horror at what is happening to fellow Muslims. I wanted to see more of their relationship to explain how their love and connection motivated her actions. Once she arrives in Syria, she acknowledges that there is a hard side to Ahmet, one “more myopic and determined than it was before, less tempered by the spirituality that used to balance that determination out.” Clearly she didn’t know him that well or chose not to see him clearly because the reader can certainly see, even before he leaves the US, how narrow are his views and how provocative and uncompromising he can be. Because Ahmet is Maggie’s first love, perhaps her behaviour is more understandable, but her extreme choices are difficult to accept and require some suspension of disbelief.

The novel examines idealism and the risks of its unforeseen consequences when coupled with naivety. Readers should be warned that parts of the novel are difficult to read because the actions of ISIS are described in some detail: hangings, crucifixions, beheadings, suicide bombings, and rape.

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

Review of THE SINS OF SUMMER DAUGHTERS by Lo Patrick (New Release)

 3 Stars

This is a mystery with some elements of Southern Gothic, especially its use of a key trope: the oppressive presence of the past.

After her divorce, Meg Gregory returned to Tuskin, a small town in Georgia, bringing her daughter Nina with her. Now, years later, Meg is 64 and her 15-year-old granddaughter Lucy is implicated in the murder of her boyfriend. While determined to prove Lucy’s innocence, Meg is haunted by memories of what happened when she was a teenager. There are a lot of parallels between Lucy’s circumstances and her own, including the suspicious death of a friend, an event which lead to Meg’s fleeing Tuskin for years. Is Lucy innocent? Is Meg?

There’s a dual timeline. Chapters alternate between the present (2024) and 1973. The latter chapters reveal Meg’s past which she has tried hard to forget. Since Meg is the narrator, the inevitable question of her reliability comes into play. She hallucinates sounds and, more than once, confuses what is happening to Lucy with what happened in the past when she was a teenager. It’s obvious that Meg has never recovered from the trauma of what happened. Is she clinging to a version of what happened that helps her cope but a version that is incomplete?

The pace is slow. Much of the focus is on Meg’s state of mind as she grapples with Lucy’s situation and her own trauma. Everything that happens to Lucy leads Meg to compare with what happened to her and how she feels. I understand that this reaction is a trauma response, but it lessens tension in the present.

I did not find Meg a likeable character. Some of her behaviour is just strange. For instance, she rushes to the police station wearing her nightgown and bathrobe even though she could take a few minutes to dress. Later she goes out wearing only one boot? Because of her constant self-reflections, she comes across as self-centred; even Nina accuses her mother of always making everything about herself, though, again, her pre-occupation is understandable. Her most perceptive comment is “I needed to get my head out of the past where it like to sit, on a post, removed from my neck so that it could defy all logic.”

None of the other characters feel developed. Nina, for example, remains a vague presence whose typical response is avoidance. The perspective of other characters would have been beneficial. For instance, I would have liked to be given Lucy’s point of view. Since she barely speaks, it’s impossible to understand the reasons for her choices. Is she really like Meg was?

A major theme is that the past never leaves us. Meg’s past is certainly ever-present. She even comments, “There is no accounting for the past and its incensed determination to penetrate the roots of everything that’s planted after it.” Meg’s relationship with Nina is obviously shaped by Meg’s relationship with her own mother, a stripper who believed “men made all the difference.” Meg does question whether her silence about what happened in the past was a good idea: perhaps if Lucy had known what happened to her grandmother, she would have acted differently.

This book is 400 pages long, but there are a lot of holes. For instance, the role of the Great Dane man is never fully explained, and his re-appearance just raises questions. Meg’s vision at the end is an interesting twist, which confirms her unreliability, though it really shouldn’t come as a total shock. However many readers will undoubtedly crave more clarity.

There are some clever turns of phrase: When Meg blurts out something surprising, she thinks, “This popped out of my mouth like bulge over a pants waist – one day it’s there and you can’t put it back.” And a rain is described as “a pitiful, slow drizzle that there was no good windshield-wiper setting for.” On the whole, however, I found the book a bit of a slog. Being in Meg’s mind so relentlessly is not always pleasant, and in the end there seems little payoff.

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

Review of THE THINGS WE NEVER SAY by Elizabeth Strout

 4 Stars

This is classic Strout – a character-driven novel, focused on an ordinary life, with psychological depth.

Fifty-seven-year-old Artie Dam has a comfortable life. A beloved and celebrated high school history teacher, he has had a long and stable marriage with Evie. His son Rob is successful. And Artie loves sailing which he is able to do regularly on his sailboat. Artie should be happy and outwardly he seems so, but he’s actually not; he is secretly struggling, suffering from what he describes as “an accretion of loneliness,” a feeling which he doesn’t feel he can share with anyone. Then a long-held secret is revealed, and it leaves him feeling even more isolated and questioning what he has believed about the people closest to him.

Artie is as memorable a character as Strout’s Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton. His personality shines when he is in the classroom; he is a kind and compassionate teacher who really cares about his students. Remembering a teacher who made a difference in his life, he sets out to do the same for students in his classes. His early life was not easy since he experienced traumatic events involving his mother, sister and son. In the present, he is finds himself increasingly disconnected from Evie, and the departure of a good friend leaves him feeling lonely. And the state of the world has him feeling anxious.

The novel is set before and after the 2024 presidential election in the U.S. The country is fractured and so is Artie’s world. The public situation mirrors Artie’s private one. He has lost his ability to appreciate the good and the beautiful. One day on his sailboat, he admits that it is “a beautiful world” and what he sees is “quietly magnificent,” but it leaves him unmoved: “whatever exaltation was available to my heart is available no more.” He believes “His country was committing suicide,” and he himself experiences suicidal ideation.

The title certainly hints at the theme. Artie comes to realize that “It was a private thing, to be alive.” Everyone holds “within themselves a vast, unknowable universe.” At the beginning of the novel, Strout quotes Carl Jung that loneliness comes from “being unable to communicate the things that seem important to oneself” and Artie expresses the same idea. He asks Evie why people never say anything real, but later explains that “to say anything real was to say things that nobody wanted to know. Or if they wanted to know, they would not care in the right way. Or even understand.” People lie to each other, even if only by omission, so “everything in the world seemed to him to be filled with unspoken truths.”

The consequence, of course, is that people do not really know each other: “All the things in the world that people did not know about one another. Even those very close to them” like Rob whom Artie feels has become “a person who remained deeply inside himself.” The omniscient narrator comments that “mostly we travel through life unsighted, grasping only the smallest details of one another’s selves, including our own. Thinking all the while that we can see.”

I loved the book though it is rather melancholic, and reading it is emotionally draining. Nonetheless, I recommend it for its psychological insight. Teachers in particular will identify with Artie’s classroom experiences.