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.

Review of STOP DEAD by Katrín Júlíusdóttir

 4 Stars

This is the second in the Iceland Mysteries series, set three years after Dead Sweet which I reviewed in 2024 (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2024/02/review-of-dead-sweet-by-katrin.html).

Sigurdís has just finished studying forensic psychology in Florida when she receives a phone call informing her that the death of her father Agnar, an apparent suicide, is being re-investigated. She returns to Iceland to be with her family. Though she cannot be involved in Agnar’s case, she is drawn into another one, that of the murder of Olga Einarsdóttir, a ruthlessly ambitious journalist. As Sigurdís investigates, she learns that Olga was disliked by virtually everyone, so there is no shortage of suspects.

The character of the likeable Sigurdís is one major appeal of the book. Her intelligence and determination stand out; even when the case seems to be going nowhere, she doesn’t give up. Her childhood was not easy since Agnar was abusive, but she is now attending therapy sessions to help herself. She remains close to her younger brother and her aunt Halla who rescued the siblings from the dysfunctional family home. She has matured as a detective; she admits that she has learned from her past mistakes when she “followed her hunches without bothering to give her colleagues much idea of what she was doing.”

In my review of Dead Sweet, I predicted that a romance would develop between Sigurdís and Unnar, and I was happy to be proven correct. I knew that the American boyfriend wouldn’t stand a chance once Sigurdís returned to Iceland. The complication, however, is that Unnar is now Sigurdís’s supervisor, even if only temporarily.

This is a fast-paced breezy read. It is very cleverly plotted with a good smattering of both clues and red herrings. These keep readers engaged as they form their own theories. Brief passages featuring Olga’s past and the viewpoint of a “bad guy” are interesting additions. Tension ramps up over time. We learn, for instance, that Sigurdís is being followed and may be in danger.

The case is solved at the end, but the closing is also somewhat open-ended. The last sentence, before the epilogue, certainly grabs attention. And then there’s the unknown: what will Sigurdís’s mother say in the radio interview about Agnar’s death? I look forward to reading the next book in the series.

Review of MURDER TAKES A VACATION by Laura Lippman

 2 Stars

This audiobook accompanied me on my morning walks, but it was not the most entertaining of companions.

Murial Blossom is going on vacation to Europe after winning a lottery. Allan Turner, a charismatic, handsome stranger, befriends her at the airport and even spends a day in London with her before she leaves for Paris where she is taking a cruise on the Seine. In Paris she meets another man, Danny Johnson, who is equally attentive. Murial is surprised when Danny ends up on her cruise and shocked when she learns that Allan died from a fall from his hotel balcony. Strange things begin to happen: Muriel suspects she is being followed, her room is searched, and a man attempts to steal her purse. What is going on?

My problem with the book is the protagonist. Murial is 68 years old and she had done surveillance for a private detective, yet she is incredibly gullible, trusting, and even helpless. She is such a poor judge of character; she accepts whatever people tell her. She takes a sleep aid from a stranger? She lets a stranger watch her while she falls asleep? She never questions suspicious behaviour? And when it comes to men, she behaves like a teenager. Men (Allan, Danny, Paul) seem to flock to her and then she turns into a giddy ninny. She mocks her friend Elinor’s flirtations, yet she herself seems to need male attention, wondering whether each man she meets could possibly be interested in her romantically.

In the Author’s Note at the end, Lippman mentions that Mrs. Blossom is a minor character introduced in the Tess Monaghan series. Readers accused the author of being anti-fat in her depiction so she decided to have Mrs. Blossom as her plus-sized protagonist. I think we are supposed to believe that Mrs. Blossom is comfortable with her size, but that does not seem to be the case. She refers to her size over and over and over again. She even lets a guide intimidate her into not going on a tour because she is self-conscious. This is not what I would call a body-positive portrayal.

There is an attempt to show that Mrs. Blossom attains some self-knowledge: she experienced great love with her husband and has other kinds of love in her life, so she doesn’t need a romance with a man to make her complete. She decides to focus on finding a purpose for her life and doing the things that give her happiness. However, this change comes unconvincingly quickly.

The mystery, revolving around a stolen statue, is lacklustre. The whole thing just seems trivial. And it’s so obvious who is involved in the caper! The fact that Mrs. Blossom doesn’t see what is so patently obvious just adds to the impression that she is naive, if not stupid.

If this is the first of a new series, I will not be continuing. The protagonist is annoying and does not behave in a credible manner, the pace is slow, tension is lacking, and the plot is predictable.

Review of THE THURSDAY MURDER CLUB by Richard Osman

 3.5 Stars

I’m a latecomer to this cozy mystery series which has had many rave reviews.

The novel is set at Coopers Chase, a British retirement village. Four residents (Elizabeth, Ron, Joyce, and Ibrahim) meet to discuss unsolved cases but become involved in investigating an actual murder, that of a property developer. And then there’s a second murder.

It is the characterization of the four septuagenarians that stands out. Each is well-developed and differentiated. They bring diverse skills to the group. Elizabeth Best is the ring leader as befits her past life as some sort of spy; she is clever and cunning, able to slyly manipulate people to her wishes, and she has a large network of useful resources. Ron was a union activist and he tends to be argumentative.  Ibrahim, a retired psychiatrist, is the calming influence; Ron’s foil, Ibrahim is quiet and restrained. Joyce, a former nurse, is a bit of a chatterbox who is always seeking male companionship, but her diary entries show that people underestimate her intelligence.

The club members charm PC Donna De Freitas and her boss, DCI Chris Hudson, into becoming police sources. I liked both characters but had to suspend disbelief with their part of the plot. There’s no way that the police would share their findings as they do. And the group always tends to be one step ahead of the police?!

The book mentions some of the challenges of growing old, such as mortality, grief, isolation, and illness, but never in a heavy-handed manner. There is considerable gentle humour: witty banter among cheeky and eccentric characters abounds. Humour also arises from contrast: sharp, intelligent seniors use their apparent frailty to manipulate, deceive, and gain information, and are able to do so because people tend to underestimate them.

There are a lot of red herrings which are central to the plot’s complexity. More than once, someone becomes a suspect with a convincing motive, but then that person proves to have a backstory with an unrelated secret. Characters and objects are often just distractions, all to keep the quartet and the reader guessing. I must admit to not liking the preponderance of suicides and assisted deaths.

A central theme is that of friendship. The four club members have a deep bond. They care for and unwaveringly support each other. The motive for one killing is in fact revenge for a friend’s death. And one friend helps another escape suspicion. Love is also another theme. The love of parents for children (Joyce and Joanna, and Ron and Jason) is obvious. But there are also several examples of long-time devotion in various relationships/marriages: Elizabeth and Stephen; Penny and John; Bernard and Asima; and Matthew and Margaret. Moments between these partners are often the most tender-hearted.

The book is charming and entertaining; I don’t think it’s intended to be taken too seriously. I will probably continue the series (of which there are currently five books with a sixth due this fall) as an occasional break from heavier, more serious reads. Actually, audio versions will probably become companions on my walks.

Review of TATA by Valérie Perrin (New Release)

 3.5 Stars

I’ve read all of Valérie Perrin’s previous novels so was anxious to read her latest.

In the fall of 2010, thirty-eight-year-old Agnès Dugain, a film director, receives a phone call informing her that her aunt, Colette Septembre, has died. The problem is that Colette died three years earlier and her body is in the cemetery of Gueugnon in eastern France. When Agnès comes to identify the body, she has no doubt that this is her aunt. Questions arise: whose body is in her grave and why did Colette fake her death?

Colette leaves her niece a series of cassettes. As Agnès listens she learns about her aunt’s life: her early life with her parents; her friendship with Blaise; her hopes for her brother Jean, a musical prodigy; her apprenticeship to an Algerian cobbler; her obsession with football; her secret affair; and a friendship which changed her life. Colette was a modest woman who tended to stay in the background but Agnès realizes how little she knew about the woman with whom she spent every summer. Colette’s life was actually extraordinary with many surprises and secrets. The number of connections she had with so many people is unexpected.

At around 600 pages, this is a lengthy book, but I didn’t find it dragged. The opening catches the reader’s attention immediately with its mention of the mystery surrounding Colette’s death. As the novel continues, the complex web of connections among characters keeps propelling the narrative. The one problem is that there are an improbable number of coincidences so the reader must willingly suspend disbelief. The connections between Jean and Hannah and between Jean and Blanche are especially difficult to accept.

The narrative moves back and forth through time. Sometimes the point of view changes suddenly and this approach can be confusing. Everyone is given a backstory so there is a lot of information. Fortunately, these stories tend to be interesting and, of course, explain motivations so behaviour is more understandable. Certainly without being given Blanche’s background, her actions and those of Colette would be unbelievable.

The book is a love story, a mystery, and multiple family sagas. It touches on so many subjects: domestic abuse, the long-term influence of parent-child relationships, family secrets, the impact of friendships, child sexual abuse, secret loves, and even the Holocaust. Certainly, there are a lot of unhappy childhoods with absent, neglectful, or abusive parents. Fortunately, the ending does offer hope.

Tata is not my favourite of Perrin’s novels, but I still recommend it to those who enjoy complex plots with surprise twists and interesting characters.

See my reviews of Perrin’s other books:

Fresh Water for Flowers: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2020/11/review-of-fresh-water-for-flowers-by.html

Three: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2022/06/review-of-three-by-valerie-perrin-new.html

Forgotten on Sunday: https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2024/06/review-of-forgotten-on-sunday-by.html

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

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.