Novels Now

“See Lola, you’re the only one with nothing to confess. You’re the only one who’s never done anything rotten enough to ask for forgiveness.”

Lola put her had back and laughed, a bright swelling laugh that made the others smile to hear it.

“Why are you laughing?” Mel asked.

“What’s so funny?”

“If only it were that easy,” Lola said. – From Beach Trip -

Beach Trip, Cathy Holton’s third novel, brings together four women in their forties  for a reunion on North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Although best friends at a small Southern college during the 1980’s, all four have taken different paths in their lives – and all four are hiding secrets. Sara is married with two children and struggles with the recent autism diagnosis of her son; Annie, also married with two children, has spent her whole life obsessively cleaning and making the world around her perfect while a decision from her past weighs heavily on her shoulders; Lola finds herself married to a controlling bully and has lost herself in prescription medications; and Mel, a twice divorced novelist covers her loneliness with humor, alcohol and meaningless sex.

Holton fully develops each character by weaving the present with the past and moving back and forth between each woman’s point of view. Throughout the novel, there is a sense of mystery and unspoken truths which creates the tension that drives the narrative. By gradually revealing each of her characters, Holton allows the reader time to get to know them. Despite her crassness, I found myself appreciating Mel the most – a character who perhaps is the most damaged, yet faces life head on with a spirit I could admire.

Beach Trip falls squarely in the genre of women’s fiction. Holton captures the essence of female friendship – the intimacy laced with conflict, the warmth and self-deprecating humor, and the comradery which develops when faced with crises. It is an enjoyable read with a surprising twist at the end. Holton’s prose is often funny. The reader gets the feeling that Holton cares deeply about each of her characters and their lives.

Beach Trip is recommended for readers who enjoy women’s fiction and are looking for a good summertime read.

Read an excerpt of Beach Trip.

Handsome in a rugged way. Athletic and muscular rather than thin. With a square jaw and eyes that could cut through any kind of lie, he’s smart and pensive, his emotions usually under tight rein.

And yet he has an Achilles heel.

One that will bring him down.

- from Malice, page 59 -

After the questionable death of his ex-wife Jennifer, Homicide detective Rick Bentz slides into alcohol abuse and is devastated when he is involved in the shooting death of a twelve year old boy and unable to solve the horrific murder of twin girls. He leaves Los Angeles and takes a job in New Orleans where he gets his life back on track and marries Olivia, an independent and beautiful woman.

Fast forward twelve years.

While recovering from bruised spinal cord and upon waking from a coma, Bentz has a vision. He sees Jennifer - not once, but several times; and then he gets a manila envelope with recent photos of her and a copy of her death certificate with a red question mark written on it. Shaken, Bentz returns to California and quickly becomes embroiled in the old department politics while fresh bodies start turning up…all connected to him.

Lisa Jackson’s fast paced and newest thriller Malice hit the stores in April. The plot unfolds quickly and readers do not have to wait long for the thrills. This book is all about plot - not a disappointment to readers of this genre.

Although I enjoyed the novel (and it was a very quick read for me), it was not without its faults. There were quite a few typos in my finished copy which always annoys me. Also, at times the plot felt a bit contrived - things were not always believable, and the ending was wrapped up pretty neatly.  In fairness to Jackson, this type of genre fiction seems to play on the edges of believability with the evil characters being really bad, the benevolent characters being really good, and the plots being a bit exaggerated. That said, Jackson writes this type of story as good as any, having written more than 75 novels and with more than 10 million copies of her books in print.

Malice is good escapism reading - a fast moving plot, lots of dialogue, and menace around every corner. For readers who like to curl up with a book of suspense and let their palms sweat, Jackson’s book is sure to please.

The horror of this case was that the corruption lay inside the ‘domestic sanctum’, that the bolts, locks and fastenings of the house were hopelessly redundant. ‘The secret lies with someone who was within…the household collectively must be responsible for this mysterious and dreadful event. Not one of them ought to be at large till the whole mystery is cleared up…one (or more) of the family is guilty.’ The Morning Post article was reprinted in The Times the next day, and in newspapers throughout the country over the rest of the week.  ‘Let the best detective talent in the country be engaged,’ demanded the Somerset and Wilts Journal. - from The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, page 38 -

In the early morning hours of June 30, 1860 three year old Saville Kent was abducted from his bed and murdered, his tiny body discovered the next day concealed in the privy, his throat cut ear to ear. The case cast everyone living in the household under suspicion. Samuel Kent (Saville’s father), the nursemaid Elizabeth Gough, Constance Kent (Saville’s 16 year old half sister), and William Kent (Saville’s 14 year old half brother) were to become the focus of the investigation, along with an odd villager named William Nutt who was the man to locate the child’s body. Within a short period of time Scotland Yard dispatched Detective-Inspector Jonathan (Jack) Whicher to the scene. Whicher, known for his cunning and skill, and embodying all the traits of the ideal Victorian sleuth would later be demonized for his probing investigation.

The Road Hill Case, as the murder came to be known, not only inflamed the public’s imagination, but it also changed the way detectives were viewed and ushered in a new era of fiction called ’sensation fiction.’

Kate Summerscale’s book is at once a compelling and fascinating look at Victorian England through the lens of a horrific crime. Summerscale examines nineteenth century societal mores, the evolving view of women, sexual awareness, and the role of the news media and literature in shaping views of morality, guilt and innocence.

Victorian women were seen as pure and innocent creatures, prone to hysteria and fits of insanity.

Women were thought to be prone to insanity, whether as a result of suppressed menstruation, a surplus of sexual energy, or the upheavals of puberty. - from The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, page 244 -

In addition, middle class English families had historically found shelter within the walls of their homes. Privacy was rarely interfered with - even when it came to investigating crimes.

Privacy had become the essential attribute of the middle-class Victorian family, and the bourgeoisie acquired an expertise in secrecy (the word ’secretive’ was first recorded in 1853). - from The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, page 109 -

When Whicher concluded that the murder of Saville had been committed by his sixteen year old half sister, and attempted to shore up that conclusion by probing deep within a middle-class family, the public (and press) were reluctant to accept his theory. Whicher was accused of exploiting the privacy of the family and the innocence of a young girl. In accusing Constance Kent of the brutal crime, Whicher also seemed to be challenging Victorian beliefs.

‘The steps you have taken will be such as to ruin her for life - every hope is gone with regard to this young girl…And where is the evidence? The one fact - and I am ashamed in this land of liberty and justice to refer to it - is the suspicion of Mr. Whicher [...] - from The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, page 154 -

It was almost inconceivable that a respectable girl could be possessed of enough fury and emotion to kill, and enough cool to cover it. The public preferred to believe in the detective’s villainy, to attribute the moral pollution to him. - from The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, page 154 -

I found it interesting to read about the view of the press during the nineteenth century. Not only were they demonized, but later novels based on the Road Hill case and articles which referenced it were thought to be a corrupting influence on those who read them. I am reminded of present day arguments which suggest reading questionable material can damage young minds.

The dizzying expansion of the press in the 1850s prompted worries that readers might be corrupted, infected, inspired by the sex and violence in newspaper articles. The new journalists shared much with the detectives: they were seen alternately as crusaders for truth and as sleazy voyeurs. - from The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, page 106 -

In the early 1860s the emotions aroused by the Road Hill murder went underground, leaving the pages of the press to reappear, disguised and intensified, in the pages of fiction. On 6 July 1861, almost exactly a year after the murder, the first installment of Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s Lady Audley’s Secret appeared in Robin Goodfellow magazine. - from The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, page 217 -

Many feared that sensation novels were a ‘virus’ that might create the corruption they described, forming a circle of excitement - sexual and violent - that coursed through every stratum of society. - from The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, page 219 -

Summerscale’s writing is clear and probing. Her book does not just look at a sensational crime, but explores the evolution of today’s crime scene investigation, the role of the press in criminal cases, the changing societal mores during the Victorian era, and how real life influenced literature. Wilkie Collins’ classic novel The Moonstone is based in large part on the Road Hill murder case. Although certain facts were altered (ie: the crime was not a murder, but a theft; and splashes of paint replaced splashes of blood), the salient features remained intact (a missing nightdress, a renowned detective, a middle class household whose privacy is invaded, and the focus on a young girl within the home).

The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher is a fascinating read for anyone interested in crime solving or mysteries. It will also appeal to those readers who are drawn to Victorian era literature or interested in reading more about the psychology and sociology of  the nineteenth century. Summerscales’ detailed text made me eager to read some of the fictional literature she referenced.

Highly recommended.

He was hunting just then, hot on the trail of something obscure, tracking a rare butterfly-like quotation as it fluttered through thickets of dense tropical paragraphs. The chase seemed to require the utmost concentration; still, he couldn’t help but think later on that if he’d only glanced up from the work, he might’ve seen something: a look in her eyes, a foreshadowing of doom, perhaps a train ticket in her hand or the words I’m Leaving You Forever stitched on the front of her coat. - from Last Night In Montreal, page 3 -

Lilia awakes one night when she is seven years old and finds her father waiting for her outside in the snow. She walks out of her home and into his arms. What follows is a life of constant travel - moving from place to place with the sensation of being hunted, changing identities, and an inability to create lasting relationships.When Lilia meets Eli, a young man studying dead and dying languages in New York City, she knows she will eventually leave him. But when she does just that, the act puts in motion a series of events which will not only change Lilia’s life, but the lives of those around her.

Fifteen years later in another country Lilia pressed her forehead against a windowpane in Eli’s apartment, looking out at an uncharted landscape of Brooklyn rooftops in the rain, and came to a somewhat unsettling conclusion: she’d been disappearing for so long that she didn’t know how to stay. - from Last Night In Montreal, page 9 -

Last Night In Montreal is a novel which intersects the lives of four flawed characters: Lilia, scarred by events she cannot remember but from which she constantly flees; Eli, stuck in one place and unable to move forward until he becomes obsessed with Lilia; Christopher, the private investigator who gives up everything to find a missing child and uncover the mystery of her disappearance; and Michaela, Christopher’s daughter who is abandoned by her parents and haunted by a girl she only knows through her father’s notes. The mystery surrounding Lilia’s abduction serves as the focal point from which the other characters’ stories revolve. As they are all drawn into Lilia’s life, they are forced to come to terms with their own weaknesses, desires, and fears. Thematically, the story is one about loss, repressed memory, family secrets and identity.

Lilia is a complex character whose life is not her own. She has no recollection of her years before the abduction and seems unable to stop traveling - a compulsion which allows her to see the world and yet not be a part of it.

She moved over the surface of life the way figure skaters move, fast and choreographed, but she never broke through the ice, she never pierced the surface and descended into those awful beautiful waters, she was never submerged and she never learned to swim in those currents, these current: all the shadows and light and splendorous horrors that make up the riptides of life on earth. - from Last Night In Montreal, page 119 -

Last Night in Montreal is Emily St. John Mandel’s first novel, and it is a stunning debut. Told from multiple viewpoints and moving back and forth between the present and past, the book is compulsively readable. Mandel’s writing is flawless - poetic, compelling, and achingly beautiful. Perhaps the strongest aspect of Mandel’s prose is her ability to fully develop her characters - people who are adrift and searching and often in pain, but who attract the reader’s empathy and admiration despite their weaknesses.

Last Night In Montreal is one of those books which once started cannot be laid aside. Disturbing and dark at times, it is a novel which will haunt the reader long after it is completed.

Highly recommended.

Even if I had the key to Pa’s request, I had no idea how to tackle a murder investigation. All I could do was to remain vigilant - an early morning sparrow, picking up tidbits of information, hungrily following any leads that presented themselves. - from The Scent of Oranges, page 81 -

When a young woman named Linda returns to South Africa for the funeral of her father, she is drawn back in time to her childhood growing up on their farm amid the orange groves. Although it was she who discovered her murdered brother’s body, she has no recollection of the crime. But when she is given a letter from her father asking her to re-investigate the details of the murder, Linda finds herself once again embroiled in the mystery of her brother’s death which includes dark, family secrets.

Joan Zawatzky’s novel The Scent of Oranges is part mystery, part historical fiction. Zawatzky paints an unflattering picture of post-apartheid South Africa - a country of poverty, violence and inadequate medical care where TB and AIDS take their toll. Despite this bleak portrayal, Zawatzky also reveals the beauty of the countryside where belief in ancestral spirits are interwoven with ghosts of the past.

Rain had brought flowers, leafy tendrils and a mass of weeds to the brittle veld. I picked wet jacaranda blossoms, popping them as I once had and sniffing their faint perfume on my fingers Blue borage was flowering and I followed its trails as it crept along hedges, over trunks and boulders. - from The Scent of Oranges, page 211 -

I was back in the orange groves on a crisp golden morning when I saw them for the first time. Beneath the trees, I noticed a ripple in the leaves hugging the ground. Was it a mouse or small animal? I lay in a furrow holding my breath. I had dug welts into my thighs by the time I saw them, three shimmering creatures darting between the trees and only as tall as one of Pa’s beer bottles. Their pointed brown faces were too small and their features far too fine to discern details. I watched fascinated until a breeze swept them away. - from The Scent of Oranges, page 186 -

The book is narrated through Linda’s point of view and its strengths are the descriptions of South Africa and its people. I did not find the mystery itself that compelling - perhaps because the pace of the story is slow and early in the book Linda is often met with silence to her inquiries about the murder. Zawatzky takes a long time to build tension and resolve the conflicts which are introduced between the characters. This meandering pace is frustrating at times. I also found the dialogue to be the weakest element of the novel - stilted and unconvincing, all the characters began to sound the same to me after awhile. Because of this, I found myself feeling distanced from the characters as though I was observing their story, but not part of it.

Despite these flaws, Zawatzky does an adequate job in revealing the cultural divide between the native people and the western, often affluent population of South Africa. The magical elements of the book - visits from spirits and the belief in voodoo - were well written and compelling.

The Scent of Oranges is not a dynamic read, but readers who wish to learn more about the culture of post-Apartheid South Africa will find this novel enlightening.

People are forever asking me what it was like to grow up in a commune, and it’s a question that has no easy answer. Northern New Mexico was Commune Central in those days, and each of the twenty-odd settlements had its own vision, its own quirky dynamics, its own culture. And, of course, no two children ever grow up in the same family, so if you asked both me and my brother, Hart, what it was like, you’d get two completely different perspectives. I think he was pretty happy. - from The Laws of Harmony, page 2 -

Judith Ryan Hendricks’ fourth novel, The Laws of Harmony, opens in New Mexico and is narrated by Sunny Cooper - a 32 year old woman whose life is suddenly wrenched out from under her. When detectives arrive at Sunny’s door to inform her that her fiance Michael has been killed in a fiery car crash, Sunny’s grief is quickly replaced by confusion and then anger when she discovers Michael was keeping secrets from her.

There was an aura about him - daring, adventurous, carefree, almost joyful - but with a darkness just under the surface. Like you could scratch him with a fingernail and find something you might not really want to see. - from The Laws of Harmony, page 68 -

The tragedy opens a floodgate of memories from Sunny’s childhood growing up in a commune - the drugs, sex and rock n’ roll; her close relationship with a brother who has since disappeared from her life; the sister she lost to a freak accident; and the strained connection she still has with her mother. On an impulse, Sunny sells nearly all her possessions and quits her job, heading west to a new future in the tiny town of Harmony on San Miguel Island.

I’ve entered a different world, and my heart suddenly lifts. It seems I’ve finally slipped the gravitational pull of New Mexico, and the past is dropping away behind me like a spent booster rocket. - from The Laws of Harmony, page 146 -

The Laws of Harmony is a novel about personal growth, the impact of the past on our future, and the delicate connections we make with other people. Sunny’s journey is not just a physical  one from New Mexico to Harmony. Her memories do not simply stop the moment she leaves the desert and arrives on the fog enshrouded island of San Miguel. Sunny’s journey from despair to hope and her gradual understanding that she cannot walk through life alone is what drives the narrative…and it is a compelling and satisfying story.

Hendricks is a capable and talented writer whose prose is filled with warmth, humor and a deep understanding of what it means to be human. Half way through the novel, I found myself immersed in Sunny’s world, comforted by the rich descriptions of food, and not wanting the novel to end. Although there is a bit of a mystery in the book, it is not the mystery which kept me turning the pages. Hendricks’ ability to create character is her strength, and it is the characters who engaged me.

The best novels are those which leave the reader with a more acute awareness of what motivates a character - and a better understanding of  how a character’s life might parallel our own. The Laws of Harmony does both those things. The writing is accessible and honest. Judith Ryan Hendricks has written a novel which women especially will love. If you are looking for a comfortable and gratifying summer read, look no further.

Highly recommended.

On the bald spot and through the strands of his scant pale hair could be seen glistening beads of sweat. “That’s not her name, by the way,” he said. Quirke did not understand. “I mean, it is her name, only she called herself something else. Laura – Laura Swan. It was sort of her professional name. She ran a beauty parlor, the Sliver Swan. That’s where she got the name – Laura Swan.” - from The Silver Swan, page 10 -

The Silver Swan is the second novel in the Quirke series written by John Banfield under his pseudonym Benjamin Black. Dysfunctional Dublin pathologist Quirke’s return appearance happens two years after solving the Christine Falls case. Finally sober, he is mourning the loss of his unrequited love Sarah and trying to make amends with his daughter when he receives a phone call from an old school friend whose wife’s body has been fished out of the dark waters near Dublin. The man requests that Quirke ignore the law and refrain from performing an autopsy to cover up the apparent suicide. But Deidre Hunt’s death is not as straight forward as it first appears, and Quirke once again finds himself embroiled in the dark side of human behavior. He is unable to let the mystery alone.

It was a postmortem he had performed on the body of another young woman that had led to the unraveling of the Judge’s web of secrets; did he want to become involved in another version of that? Should he not just let the death of Deirdre Hunt alone, and leave her husband in merciful ignorance? What did it matter that a woman had drowned herself? - her troubles were over now; why should her husband’s be added to? Yet even as he asked himself these questions Quirke was aware of the old itch to cut into the quick of things, to delve into the dark of what was hidden – to know. - from The Silver Swan, page 25 -

Banfield’s writing is dark and rich and The Silver Swan, like its prequel Christine Falls, reads more like literary fiction than straight genre mystery. Characters are well-developed and plot is secondary to the motivations of the characters. The story unravels through alternating point of view which gives the mystery greater depth and interest. Once again, I found myself not entirely liking Quirke who always seems to be struggling with ethical decisions, while unable to deal with his personal demons. But, despite this, Banfield’s strong prose engaged me in Quirke’s story. I found The Silver Swan less predictable and with more intriguing twists than its predecessor – just when I thought I had solved the mystery, the story took an unexpected turn which kept me guessing.

He flicked the stub of his cigarette over the embankment wall. A gull, deceived, dived after it. Nothing is what it seems. - from The Silver Swan, page 55 -

Both Christine Falls and its sequel The Silver Swan will appeal to those readers who enjoy a good mystery, but also appreciate literary fiction. Speaking for myself, I know I would not hesitate to pick up another thriller-mystery by this author.

Highly recommended.

Read Caribousmom’s review of Christine Falls.

But Carlotta, though her bedside lamp glows, sleeps; down the hall, Maximilian sleeps; around the corner, Pepa, serene princess, sleeps; and, most sweetly of all, an angel on pillows of gossamer, the tiny Agustin sleeps with his thumb in his mouth, never dreaming that his home is being abandoned, his father’s and mother’s clothes, shoes, knickknacks, jewelry, books, and papers packed up. - from The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire -

While Americans fight and die during the Civil War, another battle continues in Mexico. Political unrest within that country sets the stage for a French invasion led by Louis Napoleon. Propped up by the French and accompanied by his wife Carlota, the Archduke of Austria (Maximilian von Habsburg) reluctantly arrives in Mexico City to secure his role as Emperor. Faced with no child of their own, Maximilian and Carlota arrange a plot to take custody of a toddler, whose grandfather was the first Emperor of Mexico, in order to provide an heir to the throne. Agustin de Iturbide y Green is the child of a Mexican diplomat and an American belle with ties to Washington politics. The Iturbides agree to the custody arrangement when it becomes evident that Maximilian intends to take the child with or without their consent. Within days, however, Agustin’s distraught mother begins a campaign to reunite with her child - and in so doing ignites an international scandal while Maximilian’s empire begins to crumble and Carlota slips into madness.

The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire is a fictionalized re-telling of this time in Mexican history. Filled with colorful characters, the novel brings to life an event which has been buried in the history books. Mayo tells her story from a variety of viewpoints, alternating between the parents of Agustin, Agustin’s aunt Pepa, Agustin himself, Maximilian and Carlota, political heads of state, and those who surrounded the families as nannies, butlers, and cooks. It is a complex cast of characters.

Mayo’s writing is detailed and obviously well-researched. Her sense of place and history are strengths of the novels, with detailed descriptions of setting including the clothes and food from that time period. Mayo quickly embroils her reader in the politics of the time, including the internal workings of the royal family as well as international governments. Most of the characters are real persons of history, but their interactions are largely imagined. Mayo deftly reveals the subtle interplay which made up royal intrigue in the mid to late 1800s.

The complexity of the novel and number of characters (with foreign names) confused me at times. I think it might have been helpful for Mayo to include a “cheat sheet” of dates and events, along with characters and their relationship to each other, especially for readers like myself who do not have in-depth knowledge of history during the mid-nineteenth century. Although Mayo’s writing cannot be faulted, I found myself drifting at times in a sea of details that were difficult to sort through. **EDITED TO ADD - Thank you for Ms. Mayo for providing a terrific reference to all characters in this book here.

The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire is impeccably researched and beautifully rendered. Those readers who love complex historical novels and who want to learn more about this time period in Mexican history will enjoy Mayo’s work.

She entrusted me with her version of this story late in her life. In fact, it’s a long story when all the pieces are added together, and it begins many years before my father jumped from the pedestrian bridge, when my grandmother was young and set out to follow the Tuskee River north. She confided in me because she wanted me to understand, as she put it, how one thing led to another. But I had to promise never to repeat what she told me to anyone. She would be furious to hear that I’m about to break my promise. I’d like to hope, though that by the end she would forgive me. - from Follow Me, page 7 -

Sally Werner is only sixteen years old in 1946 when an unexpected sexual encounter with her cousin Daniel results in the birth of a baby boy. On impulse, Sally abandons her baby on her parents’ kitchen table and flees, heading north along the fictional Tuskee River in Pennsylvania to seek a bigger life and leave her shame behind. Sally Werner recreates herself many times - changing her last name along the way (from Werner to Angel to Mole to Bliss), and starting her life over again each time fate delivers a bad hand.

More than sixty years later, the story of Sally’s life is retold by her granddaughter and namesake who has the benefit of pitting her grandmother’s story against another version…that of her biological father who one day sends her a package of tapes which reveal his side of the story.

There’s her side of the story, there’s mine, we’re lichen, our stories, the way they relate, they remind me of lichen. Lichen, you know, is made up of fungus and algae, it’s really two plants in one, the fungus is a parasite, it draws the carbohydrates from the algae, but the algae don’t seem to mind. I like to cite lichen as a prime example of symbiosis. Doesn’t every story involve symbiosis in a way, a relationship of dependence between two parts? Your mother’s story, what she knows, it’s a partial version, but so is your grandmother’s. - from Follow Me, page 313 -

Follow Me is a magical tale of one woman’s life and how her decisions impact others long after she is gone. Thematically, it is a novel about the selective process of memory and how history is defined by who is telling the story. Like the river which parallels Sally Werner’s life, Follow Me is filled with secrets and murky half-truths and things are never entirely how they first appear.

Joanna Scott is a gifted story teller. Her prose flows smoothly and the interconnected lives of her characters are revealed from several viewpoints. Embedded in the story of Sally is a larger story - that of the struggle of single women faced with unplanned pregnancies and the shame that often accompanies them. Sally is not a wholly likable character, and yet I found myself admiring her resilience and determination. Her mistakes, her desire for forgiveness, her effort to make things right again - all resonated with me.

My only complaint with the novel was its length. At times I felt impatient for the story to unravel faster. I wanted the secrets revealed sooner. Follow Me is a leisurely story. It meanders. But despite my impatience, I turned the final page with admiration for Scott’s writing, as well as a deeper understanding of her characters.

For readers who enjoy literary fiction, family sagas, and character-driven novels -  Follow Me will appeal.

Recommended.

The more she cooked, the more she began to view spices as carriers of the emotions and memories of the places they were originally from and all those they had traveled through over the years. She discovered that people seemed to react to spices much as they did to other people, relaxing instinctively into some, shivering into a kind of emotional rigor mortis when encountering others. By the time she was twelve, Lillian had begun to believe that a true cook, one who could read people and spices, could anticipate reactions before the first taste, and thus affect the way a meal or an evening would go. - from The School of Essential Ingredients -

Lillian is drawn to food and its magic from the time she is a small child - intuitive and open, she sees food as a way to reach out to others emotionally. When Lillian grows up, she opens a restaurant and starts a cooking school. But the school is less about cooking and more about the people who arrive at the restaurant to learn about food.

The School of Essential Ingredients is about the lives of eight different people who gather each Monday at Lillian’s restaurant. They arrive isolated from each other, but soon their lives interconnect in ways they could not have guessed. They each gain insight into themselves and others, and are transformed by the lessons they learn about food. There is an older married couple whose lives have been touched by betrayal; an Italian woman who is finding her way in America; a man whose sadness permeates the room; a young girl who needs to learn to believe in herself; a mother who has lost herself in giving to her family; a man whose belief in perfection has left him lonely; and an elderly woman whose memory has forsaken her. And then there is Lillian - the woman who brings them all together and seems to know what each person needs before they do.

Erica Bauermeister has written each character’s story as a series of interconnected narrations - almost like short stories with a central theme. Her language is rich and evocative. Her descriptions of food are lush and sensual - bringing in the colors, aromas, textures and flavors of food in a way which brings the meals to life. As Bauermeister uncovers the mystery of each character’s background, she offers the reader a glimpse into forgiveness, sadness, joy and self-discovery. And she shows us that food is much more than what we put into our mouths - instead it can be healing while it feeds our souls and stimulates our memories.

I thoroughly enjoyed this charming book. Bauermeister’s effortless prose and deep understanding of the human condition provide insight into her characters and give new meaning to the idea of cooking.

Recommended.

Here’s what I need to confess about Peter and me: We were not exactly in love anymore. After fifteen years and three children together, we were often other places besides in it. We were under it, sometimes. Or above it. Or against it. Or in arms’ reach of it. Or in shouting distance of it. Or rubbing shoulders with it. But not in it. Not lately. Not since Baby Sam was born. Baby Sam was, you might say, the straw that broke the Love Camel’s back. And now that camel was lying in the desert in the baking sun. All alone and very thirsty. - from Everyone is Beautiful -

Lanie Coates has just moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts from her childhood home in Houston so that her husband Peter can pursue his musical dreams. The couple moves into a tiny apartment with their three children, all under the age of five, and Lanie finds herself overwhelmed, exhausted, and feeling less than beautiful. When she makes the decision to change her life and begins to pursue her own dreams, Lanie soon discovers that beauty and happiness are more than skin deep.

I always know I am reading a terrific novel when I start reading pages out loud to my husband.

“Listen to this,” I said more than once while reading Everyone Is Beautiful…and in between my laughter I shared Center’s wonderful prose with my husband who laughed along with me. Center’s sense of humor is evident on every page of her engaging novel, and even though I do not have children of my own, I was able to relate to Lanie’s puzzlement over her little boys’ fascination with their penises (called “noo-noos” in the novel) or her embarrassment when a neighbor drops in to see the three boys  parading naked through Lanie’s house plastered with Maxi pads. Time and again, Center sets up scenes and dialogue which ring true.

Katherine Center’s sophomore effort is full of her signature humor and astonishing insight into women’s lives. Although the novel revolves around a young mother’s life, the story is for every woman. Center touches on a universal truth: that women, in nurturing those they love, often lose themselves in the process. In a society which celebrates physical beauty and bone-thin bodies, many of us feel we are falling short. At the end of a long day of caring for others - whether it be our pets, our children, our aging parents - often while juggling jobs and trying to maintain a happy marriage…many women give up their own dreams or sacrifice personal time which might enrich their lives on another level. So when Lanie cries over her stretch-marks and laments her lost youth, most female readers will empathize.

Everyone is Beautiful is a celebration of all women and the beauty within them:

Laughter is beautiful. Kindness is beautiful. Big boobs should have a big ass to go with them. It’s more important to be interesting, to be vivid, and to be adventurous, than to sit pretty for pictures. A woman’s soft tummy is a miracle of nature. Beauty comes from tenderness. Beauty comes from variety, from specificity, from the fact that no person in the world looks exactly like anyone else. Beauty comes from the tragedy that each person’s life is destined to be lost to time. - from Everyone Is Beautiful -

For any woman who has been too hard on herself, or felt under appreciated or overworked, or simply tired…Katherine Center’s novel will be an affirmation of their inner beauty.

Highly recommended.

Katherine Center’s debut novel, The Bright Side of Disaster, is beautifully written and one I can highly recommend (read my review). And for those readers (like myself) who can’t seem to get enough of Center’s wonderful sense of humor and spot on depictions of women and the challenges they face, look for her third novel Get Lucky due out in the near future. To read more about this author and her work, visit Katherine Center’s website.

Carefully, delicately, she caught the end of the paper with her thumbnail and withdrew it slowly from the shaft. It looked like a miniature parchment, tightly rolled into a tub. She laid the key in her lap and held the parchment up to the lamp, unrolling the crisp, brittle slip one millimeter at a time. It was brown and stained, barely as long as her thumb. On it, in a watery ink barely legible in the flickering light, were written the words Deliverance Dane.- from The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, page 50 -

Connie Goodwin, a PhD candidate in American History, finds herself and her dog Arlo unexpectedly spending the summer at her grandmother’s crumbling old home near Salem, Massachusetts. Tasked by her mother to clean up the place and sell it, Connie instead discovers an old key with a message inside an ancient family Bible which compels her to search for answers to a 300 year old mystery. Connie’s quest introduces her to a handsome steeplejack named Sam; and as Connie and Sam follow the clues to uncover the whereabouts of an old “recipe” book, Connie realizes that Salem’s dark history (including the witch trials) are impacting her own life more than she knew.

The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane is Katherine Howe’s debut novel. The narration is from several points of view and spans the time period from 1681 - 1715, as well as immersing the reader in Connie’s present day life in 1991. Howe has done her homework on the rich history surrounding the Salem Witch trials. Period detail including the architecture and clothing from the late seventeenth century create a sense of place. Howe’s own background as a graduate student in American and New England Studies, as well as her family history (which includes being a descendant of Elizabeth Proctor and Elizabeth Howe who were tried as witches in Salem) lends an authenticity to the novel.

The book is not without its faults. I found myself growing weary of the New England accent in Howe’s dialogue. It started to feel like a chore to read these sections, and made me remember I was reading a story rather than being immersed in it. I also thought the early parts of the book dragged a bit. Howe’s desire to provide all the details at times distracted from the flow of her story.

That said, Howe’s strength is in creating character and when Connie discovers her previously unknown talents of healing, I believed it. Connie’s strained relationship with her new-age mother Grace had me smiling and nodding. And as the novel progressed, I found myself eager to learn the secrets and uncover the mystery surrounding Connie’s family.

For readers who love historical fiction and who are willing to allow their imaginations free reign to explore the magic of superstition, religion and witchcraft, The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane will appeal.

To Tricia and her coworkers, my mother is not entirely human - not a daughter, not a mother, not a wife. Her past wiped out, she is just another sack of flesh, dehumanized. She has become a freak. Staff members put food in Ellen’s mouth, strip clothes off her body, dress her and lay her in bed - she’s an oversized doll, an animate toy - but she does not belong to their species any longer. I understand this. It’s a human impulse to think: I will never be like that. - from Buffalo Lockjaw, page 111 -

Greg Ames has written a searing, all too real novel about watching someone you love slip into dementia. When James Fitzroy returns to his hometown of Buffalo at Thanksgiving, he finds himself tormented by his mother’s mental and physical decline from Alzheimer’s Disease. He wonders why his mother - a nurse who everyone loved and a woman whose nursing text is still being used to educate new nurses - should have to suffer this indignity, while James wastes his life drinking too much, having meaningless sex and working in a dead end job as a writer of taglines for greeting cards. He also worries about his father who is aging and alone now.

As per usual in his presence, I feel like I’m eight years old again. This is unnatural, I realize, a moral failing, and this tentativeness must end, because I am the stronger man here, young, powerful, intelligent, a representative of the future, and he’s old, decrepit and doddering - he’s literally riding in the passenger seat of life - and it’s my job to worry about him now that he lives alone. What if he falls down and breaks his hip in his bachelor pad? What if he chokes on a TV dinner? It’s time for me to step up and assume my new role in this family. This is my responsibility. Nobody else will do this. Time to become a grown man. But how does one begin? - from Buffalo Lockjaw, page 220 -

It is this misdirected sense of responsibility that compels James to consider ending his mother’s life. He agonizes over how he would do it, or if such an act is even justified.

I sit beside her trying to imagine what she thinks and feels. If it’s true that she experiences no physical pain, and that mentally she is no more cognizant of her condition than a baby is - the baby doesn’t recognize the helplessness of her life because she has nothing to compare it to - then this is my problem and not hers. But if she is suffering with the knowledge of loss, if she recognizes the absence of dignity, which I suspect is the case, then her shame and despair must consume her. And she has nothing but time, the regulated ticking of minutes on a clock, to remind her of that. - from Buffalo Lockjaw, page 117 -

James Fitzroy is not a wholly likable character - he can be crude and he drinks too much, he seems to have no aspirations to raise his life to a higher level - and yet, I found myself empathizing with him and appreciating his deep love and loyalty to his mother. In one scene, he carefully flosses his mother’s teeth, believing she would be ashamed by her poor dental hygiene. James shows compassion even toward other residents at the care home - holding their hands, or speaking to them with empathy. One gets the feeling that here is a young man completely misunderstood for most of his life, and trying now to rectify this.

Interspersed throughout the narrative are clips of other characters talking about Buffalo and the people who live there - at first I wasn’t sure what to make of these interuptions in the novel. But the reader ultimately understands that James was an “urban ethnologist” and these snippets of narrative come from his interview tapes. They lend a surreal touch to the book and offer a glimpse at the personal stories of others living in James’ hometown, but aside from this they seemed a distraction from the real purpose of the novel.

Ames writes with black humor and irony as he explores the controversial subject of assisted suicide for the terminally ill. He does not offer an answer as to whether euthansia is morally right or wrong, but instead opens up a fertile ground for discussion. Buffalo Lockjaw would make a great book club read for this reason. Thematically the novel is about aging, loss, love and the parent/child relationship through time.

Buffalo Lockjaw is a laudable debut and one which captivated me from the beginning because of its authenticity. I not only work with patients suffering dementia in my profession of Physical Therapy, but my father also suffers from progressive dementia because of small vessel disease. Greg Ames has skillfully captured the immense sadness and utter hopelessness of watching a loved one be robbed of their intellect, personality, and dignity because of a disease like Alzheimers.

Recommended with a caution - Ames writes with direct, sometimes unnerving prose which may disturb some readers.

Some people are too stupid to be afraid on a runaway horse. Some people seize up. Some people turn cold and clear inside, like Clay, and only start to shake afterward. Annie sails into trouble like she wants it to last forever, like she can skim off from fear only what’s precious. She almost never comes off. - from The Mechanics of Falling, page 90 -

Catherine Brady’s latest collection of stories explore the various ways individuals respond to the unexpected events in their lives - will they seize up? Turn cold inside? Face things head on? Will they get back up after a fall, or give in to it? By exploring the ordinary lives of her characters, Brady reveals the extraordinary turns of fate and the gradual insight which swells inside us all when life does not go as expected.

In Scissors, Paper, Rock Natalie, an aging photojournalist, resists conforming to the changes in her profession and her behavior is accommodated at work. This irritates a co-worker, Liz, until a seemingly minor incident illuminates a deeper issue and forces Liz to examine her own values and sensitivities in the light of another person’s crisis.

Natalie’s visits reminded her of the happy time when her children were small, and they taught her over and over how to let each day happen as it would, centered on the wobbly axis of their needs and not her own intentions. The sick days that disrupted her plans were also enticing pools of time in which she might spend an entire afternoon reading in bed with a feverishly hot child pressed against her or playing endless rounds of scissors, paper, rock, in which no strategy could defeat the illogic of the hierarchy that set paper over rock, an open hand over a fist. - from Scissors, Paper, Rock, page 78 -

One of my favorite stories of the collection - Much Have I Traveled - involves Nina, married twelve years to her college professor, who examines the base on which her marriage turns during a weekend visit with friends. Nina and Carter’s marriage reveals itself gradually not only to Nina, but to the reader as well. When Brady describes a pond clotted with algae, it becomes a metaphor for the evolution of Nina and Carter’s relationship which has begun to shift under the shadow of Carter’s newly diagnosed multiple sclerosis.

When the pond became clotted with algae scum a few years ago, the channel from the creek slowly filling in, Nina had accepted this next small loss, the pond growing murky the way her memories of summers here as a child had silted up over time. They couldn’t really afford to keep up the property that had come to her, and they could not pay to dredge the pond. But Carter started digging a new channel from the creek and enlisted their guests in daily labor, flinging stinking muck on the grass, scoring the earth with shovels, tearing rocks from the creek bed and carting them in wheelbarrows to line the raw trench. - from Much Have I Traveled, page 162 -

In all of Brady’s stunning and beautifully wrought stories, there is a shift or change either inside the protagonist or within the primary relationship - boyfriend/girlfriend, daughter/father, husband/wife. The internal struggles of the characters are often paralleled with external events or catalysts. In Seven Remedies, a middle-aged woman finds herself juggling work, major house repairs, and rebellious children - but it is her struggle to communicate with her Mexican housekeeper which grants her the most insight into her relationships and what her life is all about.

She cannot get used to the construction noise, the sound of blows raining down as men rebuild her house. The gods have poor aim too. There are only these bungled missives that may or may not encode ruin. Or maybe it’s that Laurel misjudges the peripheral cues she’s given. The kind of peripheral cues - right turn after the yellow house, second left after the light, there’s the bus stop - she is forced to rely on when she tries to talk with Mayda, nothing ever precisely located. There’s just stumbling on. - from Seven Remedies, page 189 -

Brady creates memorable and complex characters whose inner lives are rich with doubt, fear, faith, and conflict. The characters encounter such things as  infidelity, violence, medical decline, issues of aging and single parenthood. A simple story becomes an intriguing look at deeper issues through Brady’s careful and wise prose. I often found myself re-reading certain passages, teasing through them just to listen to the perfect rhythm and finely tuned nuance.

Short story collections like The Mechanics of Falling are rare - the ideal blend of excellent writing and good story telling, giving the reader a wealth of detail about the characters while leaving room for interpretation of what will happen next. A good short story makes the reader think while pulling them deeper into the lives of the characters. Catherine Brady has written eleven outstanding stories which compliment each other perfectly.

Highly recommended.

See more reviews of this book through TLC Book Tours.

Catherine Brady has published two other collections: Curled In The Bed Of Love (co-winner of the 2002 Flannery O’Connor Award for Short Fiction and a finalist for the 2003 Binghamton John Gardner Fiction Book Award.) AND The End of the Class War (a finalist for the 2000 Western States Book Award in Fiction).

And so I was in a state of fuming helplessness when I stepped out into the inverted obscurity of the afternoon. As I stood there, thrown by Herald Square’s flows of pedestrians and the crazed traffic diagonals and the gray, seemingly bottomless gutter pools, I was seized for the first time by a nauseating sense of America, my gleaming adopted country, under the secret actuation of unjust, indifferent powers. The rinsed taxis, hissing over fresh slush, shone like grapefruits; but if you looked down into the space between the road and the undercarriage, where icy matter stuck to pipes and water streamed down the mud flaps, you saw a foul mechanical dark. - from Netherland, page 68 -

The protagonist of Joseph O’Neill’s latest novel is Hans, a wealthy banker living in the Chelsea Hotel in post-911 New York City. Rachel, Hans’ conflicted wife, abandons him to return to London with their child and leaves Hans to navigate his way through a city of immigrants, idealists, and whacky characters. It is not long before Hans discovers the little known, yet thriving culture of immigrant men who gather each week to bat and bowl their way through cricket games. One of these men is Chuck Ramkissoon - an immigrant from Trinidad who runs an illegal gambling operation, cheats on his wife with a scrapbooker, and dreams of creating The New York Cricket Club - a venture which he envisions making millions while introducing Americans to a ‘whole new chapter in U.S. history.‘

“I’m saying that people, all people, Americans, whoever, are at their most civilized when they’re playing cricket. What’s the first thing that happens when Pakistan and India make peace? They play a cricket match. Cricket is instructive, Hans. It has a moral angle. I really believe this. Everybody who plays the game benefits from it. SoI say, why not Americans?” - from Netherland, page 211 -

Netherland explores the aftermath of 911 through the eyes of America’s immigrants who have come to America in pursuit of their dreams but find a country conflicted in the face of impending war with Iraq.

We were trying to understand, that is, whether we were in a preapocalyptic situation, like the European Jews in the thirties or the last citizens of Pompeii, or whether our situation was merely near-apocalyptic , like that of the Cold War inhabitants of New York, London, Washington, and, for that matter, Moscow. - from Netherland, page 24 -

O’Neill uses Hans and Rachel’s marriage as a metaphor to explore fear, isolation, disaapointment and reconciliation as they separate and then come back together. Family and country are two intertwined themes as Hans tries to understand his own identity within the larger concept of community.

Although O’Neill’s writing is fluid and evokes a New York which most American’s will relate to, I found myself indifferent to Hans and his troubles. I liked the colorful and outgoing Chuck, but his ultimate fate left me thinking “so what?” I am not exactly sure why the character development left me cold in this novel - O’Neill certainly gives the reader plenty of background and insight into the two main characters - but, ultimately, I found them forgettable. There are also long passages about the game of cricket - a sport which I know next to nothing about - and these I found mostly boring.

At the end of the book, Hans is talking to a minor character who had considered funding Chuck’s idea for a cricket club in New York:

“The New York Cricket Club,” Faruk says, raising his eyebrows, “was a splendid idea - a gymkhana in New York. We had a chance there. But would the big project have worked? No. There’s a limit to what Americans understand. The limit is cricket.” - from Netherland, page 251 -

And this is pretty much how I felt about O’Neill’s novel. A good idea, but it did not work for me. Although this book has gotten some great reviews (including being recognized as a NYT Most Notable book in 2008), I wonder if many Americans will struggle as I did with a story which in large part centers around a sport which is not well-known in our country. Some readers might like this one.

["]I remembered a story Johnny Leahy told right before our wedding. Fado,” Maire said, and winked at me. “Johnny was out fishing where Galway Bay meets the sea. They’d caught nothing, no fish, all day. When the sun sank beneath the waves, some boats turned back to shore, empty. But Johnny and his da stayed on. A slip of a moon rose, then disappeared. Complete darkness and still they waited. Then, long after most would have given up, the mearbhall - a kind of glow - started up from the deep, lighting up the sea. And suddenly all manner of fish - whiting and herring and great creatures Johnny couldn’t put a name to - came swimming up through the mearbhall and into the nets. The glow lasted until the morning star appeared. At the dawning of the day, they saw they’d netted a great catch.

“Mearbhalls come, Johhny told me, only on the darkest night. But no fisherman is able to say when or where. A gift, he said, like life itself.” - from Galway Bay, page 474 -

On the cusp of entering a convent, sixteen year old Honora Keeley discovers a man in Galway Bay.

He stood, foam swirling around his long legs, hands at his sides - not covering himself. Looking me right in the eye - smiling.

“You’re not drowning at all.”

“I am,” he said. “I am drowning in your beauty. Are you a girl at all, or are you a mermaid?” - from Galway Bay, page 8 -

Thus begins Mary Pat Kelly’s novel Galway Bay - a book filled with memorable characters, and love of country and family. But, Galway Bay is first and foremost a family saga which spans nearly sixty years (between 1839 and 1893). It tells the story of the Kelly family- first in Ireland on Galway Bay and then as they move west to America and settle in Chicago. Historically, the novel covers a sad period in Irish history. The Great Starvation (1845 - 1852) killed approximately a million Irish men, women and children when blight wiped out the potato crops and the English government turned a blind eye to the tragedy. The Irish population was further reduced by another million due to mass emigration. Galway Bay’s stalwart and courageous characters also experience the American Civil War(1861 - 1865), the assassination of President Lincoln (1865), the Great Chicago Fire (1871), and the Chicago World’s Fair (1893).

Mary Pat Kelly based her novel on her great-great grandmother Honora Kelly, and it is this character who drives the narrative through her determination to survive and carry the stories of Ireland all the way to America. Weaving together the lives of Honora, her siblings and parents, her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, Kelly unravels a history of the Irish people - including their lore, religion, and work ethic.

Kelly is a good storyteller and makes the reader care about her characters who come alive on the pages of her book. I did find her style of switching from past to present tense a little confusing at times.

I walked between Mam and Granny, carrying Bridget. Da and Michael were just ahead, deep in talk of some kind. They get on so well. Michael’s part of the Keeley men now, with is own fine children, his loneliness filled. - from Galway Bay, page 127 -

But after a time, these tense switches simply became part of the overall writing style of the book and I began to ignore them.

Galway Bay is a sprawling novel and the time period it covered is enthralling. As with all good historical fiction books, this one begs to be devoured long into the night.

Recommended.

Hearts. This is all about hearts, restless or yearning, broken or bleeding. - from Bleeding Heart Square, page 229 -

Andrew Taylor’s latest crime mystery is a literary whodunnit set in London in the early 1930’s. Lydia Langstone, leaves her abusive marriage and arrives to live with her father, Captain Ingleby-Lewis, at Number 7 Bleeding Heart Square.  Also residing in the building is Joseph Serrige who is a rather mysterious character with a dark past; and Rory Wentwood who has recently parted ways with his girlfriend Fennela Kensley. What binds all these characters together is the disappearance of an older woman named Miss Penhow who has not been seen for four years.

Taylor has crafted a novel with twists and turns and a few gory details - such as the rotting hearts which keep arriving at Bleeding Heart Square addressed to  Serrige.

Mrs. Renton pulled the knot apart and coiled the string into a roll. She unwrapped the parcel gingerly. The smell grew steadily worse. Finally she drew back the last fold of brown paper, exposing an object like a misshapen egg about four inches long and two inches high. most of it was a dark, mottled red, bu there were streaks of a pale yellow embedded into its texture, and minute white specks milled about almost invisibly on its surface.

“Meat,” Mrs. Renton said.

“But its rotten,” Lydia said, shocked.

“I can see that,” Ingleby-Lewis barked. Holding his nose, he came nearer. “Damn it, those are maggots. What the blazes is it doing here?”

Mrs. Renton looked at Lydia. “Nothing to do with me.”

“What is it, anyway?” he asked ina quieter voice.

“It’s a heart, sir,” Mrs. Renton said. “A rotten heart.” - from Bleeding Heart Square, page 21 -

Narrated from multiple viewpoints and including snippets of the missing woman’s diary with commentary from an unidentified character, Taylor’s story builds slowly and steadily to its surprising conclusion.

Bleeding Heart Square is a mystery novel entrenched in the history of the time period between the Great Wars including the British Union of Fascists introduction into English society. It also covers such social issues as abusive marriages, adultery, divorce and the role of women during that time. These larger themes, as well as Taylor’s adept use of language, set this novel apart from other mysteries.

The first half of the book is a bit slow and there are many characters who weave in and out of the narrative which requires attention from the reader to keep them all straight. But despite the leisurely start, Bleeding Heart Square picks up its pace mid-way and becomes hard to put down. Atmospheric, rich in historical detail, and written with a literary flair, this novel is recommended to readers who enjoy historical fiction, whodunnit mysteries and British literature.

Bleeding Heart Square was published earlier this month. More information may be found at the Hyperion Website.

About Andrew Taylor:

• Official Website
• Awarded the Cartier Diamond Dagger for 2009 for sustained excellence in crime writing
• Biography

Near mid-century when Edward was born, the full moon was years from being the brightest. That would happen - in terms of luminosity and size - in the last month of the century. As a child growing up, however, Edward found much splendor and mystery in the moon. It kept changing and following him around, a rock with its own rhythms, much like girls, and he knew he was years away from understanding girls. - from The Brightest Moon of the Century -

Christopher Meeks has transitioned from short stories to his first novel - and the result is a book which draws the reader in with humor, empathy, and a gentle understanding of what it means to live our lives with a sense of wonder.

The Brightest Moon of the Century is organized into nine distinctive chapters which allows the reader to experience the life of Edward Meopian from the age of 14 through his 45th year. Edward is a bit of a nerd and socially naive, a character who consistently made me feel for his struggles and celebrate his triumphs. As a young boy, he loses his mother to a tragic accident and it is perhaps this one event which shapes the man he ultimately becomes. Forced to attend a private boy’s school by his father (who is seeking his own happiness while struggling in his role as single parent), Edward must confront bullies and figure out his place in the world. Edward’s teenage challenges and search for love in the first two chapters reveal Meeks’ finally honed sense of humor and understanding of what it means to be young.

Guys would never talk about, say, what brand of acne medicine they were using, or what great pants another guy was wearing, or wow, good color for a golf shirt. Didn’t girls want to know how far someone got on a date? Or did they talk about how their boyfriends got boners and they happily let them suffer? The more suffering, the better a girl you were? If so, Annie was a fantastic girl. - from The Brightest Moon of the Century -

Edward moves from his childhood home in Minnesota to college in Colorado, later makes his way to Los Angeles (where he tries to follow  his dream of becoming a movie director), and finally ends up in rural Alabama managing a mini-mart in a trailer park (my favorite part of the book). It is through these years of his life that Edward struggles with self-discovery, faith, and fate.

“Failure seems to follow me around,” said Edward.

“You’re no failure, son,” said the officer, and Edward turned to face him. “This is God,” said the man. “Or the disorder of life, if you like. This is what we all have to live with.” - from The Brightest Moon of the Century -

In the final chapters, the reader watches Edward grow into middle-age and discover that often the joys of life are balanced with pain. Edward is revealed as a man who empathizes deeply with others and never loses his hope and optimism despite tragedy.

And this is what I love about Meeks’ writing ability - he gives us characters who are very human and who face many obstacles in life, and then he infuses their stories with hope.  As in his previous short story collections (reviewed here and here), I found myself caring deeply about the characters in The Brightest Moon of the Century.  Meeks writes with a wry humor as he shows Edward tripping and stumbling through the world with a refreshing openness to what life has to offer.

He was simply going to be open to the moment, like a sunflower or the Hari Krishna guy at the airport. - from The Brightest Moon of the Century -

Christopher Meeks’ work is joyful, funny and sensitive. The Brightest Moon of the Century is a satisfying read and one which made me hope that Meeks will continue to write novels.

Visit the Author’s Website where you can find many reviews of all of Christopher Meeks’ work.

Although Janine understood almost none of the language, the expressions and gestures of the people at the table were so familiar that she felt she’d already heard this entire conversation and understood it perfectly, sitting among her aunts and uncles in her grandmother’s house many nights near the San Francisco Bay. - from The Islands of Divine Music, page 190 -

John Addiego’s debut novel - The Islands of Divine Music - is a multi-generational novel in short stories about the Verbicaro family. The book spans more than 100 years and is told from the multiple viewpoints of five generations of Italian-Americans, beginning with the voice of matriarch Rosari  as she leaves Southern Italy bound for the United States. Although each individual must move through their life with their own problems, challenges, and unique perspectives…they are all bound together by family and the divine. A member of my book group referred to them as “islands within the chain of an archipelago” which seems to describe the structure of this novel well.

The Islands of Divine Music is not an easy book to read and understand. Addiego uses magical realism to bring forth his themes of isolation, faith and love of family. All the characters are seriously flawed - some becoming embroiled in the mafia, others turning towards prostitution, and some slipping into the stranglehold of drug addiction. They fight demons such as social alienation, violence, and infidelity. All of this occurs against the backdrop of 20th century American history: Immigration, Prohibition, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Vietnam War, and Civil Rights. It is a large platter of rich subject matter - and at times it seems almost too weighty for a novel of just under 250 pages.

Addiego is a skillful writer and there were some passages that were so beautifully written I began marking them:

Eleonora stood on deck with her head uncovered, her face radiant, and the sky fell as white jewels onto her black hair. She lifted Rosari’s hand, and they dance slowly through the snow, a substance Rosari had never seen before, a phenomenon which seemed to her then the flight of a million angels come to guide her mother and herself to a new life. - from The Islands of Divine Music, page 14 -

Through the glass their eyes met, and Penny’s heart jumped, and as the pneumatic door snapped shut and the car lurched forward she mouthed his name, and he nodded. Both of them opened their mouths and pointed as the train swiftly drew them apart, the one who had stood on the Golden Gate Bridge an hour earlier and decided against death by the direction of a bird’s flight and the other who’d returned in thought to that hidden mesa at the end of the world where a mother and child huddled under a blue poncho and waited for the shadow of death to pass over. - from The Islands of Divine Music, page 129 -

Despite these exquisite passages, the novel also was quite graphic in its descriptions of violence - especially one scene which describes the sexual assault of one of the female characters. There were moments in the book where I felt Addiego could have been less graphic and still made his points.

One of the flaws of the novel was the vast numbers of characters which flow in and out of the narrative. Luckily for the reader, Addiego provides a genealogical chart at the beginning which I found myself referring to many times just to keep everyone straight. This novel often felt like a collection of short stories (and indeed, many of the chapters were previously published as short stories). I found myself frustrated at times that just as I was starting to get to know one character, I was introduced to another. The second half of the book felt better connected to me than the first part.

I have a negative bias toward novels entrenched in magical realism, so it is to Addiego’s credit that I found myself slipping into the world of the Verbicaro family and wanting to know more about them.  The language of this novel is raw and occasionally graphic; often the characters are gritty and unlikable. Although I think Addiego is a talented writer, the book was not really my cup of tea. But for readers who love magical realism and who like a novel which is unique, The Islands of Divine Music might be just what you are looking for…

The cover art on this book is wonderful. The artist is Paul Zwolak and you can find more of his amazing work here and here.

It was like the painting they’d first looked at together in London, the small mirror at the back revealing more than the room at first appeared to contain. - from Only Goodness, page 157 -

Jhumpa Lahiri’s collection of short stories - Unaccustomed Earth - reveals more about the relationships between its multi-faceted characters than  first appears.  Each story seems initially simple and then evolves into a wonderful look at how relationships between husband/wife, brother/sister, girlfriend/boyfriend, and parent/child evolve over time.

In the title story, a young Bengali woman named Ruma relocates to Seattle with her American husband and son as they look forward to the birth of their second child. A visit from Ruma’s father stirs memories of her deceased mother, and forces her to consider her duty as daughter to invite her father to live with her.

Ruma feared that her father would become a responsibility, an added demand, continuously present in a way she was no longer used to. It would mean an end to the family she’d created on her own: herself and Adam and Akash, and the second child that would come in January, conceived just before the move. - from Unaccustomed Earth, page 7 -

But Ruma is unaware that her father has begun to move forward after the loss of his wife, and treasures his new found independence.

He stared out the window at a shelf of clouds that was like miles and miles of densely packed snow one could walk across. The sight filled him with peace; this was his life now, the ability to do as he pleased, the responsibility of his family absent just as all else was absent from the unmolested vision of the clouds. - from Unaccustomed Earth, page 8 -

During his visit, Ruma’s father connects unexpectedly with his grandson, and plants a garden for Ruma. The visit unfolds in an unpredictable way, bringing a deeper understanding of both father and daughter; and opening a door to a new relationship.

This simple first story, rich in detail and expertly crafted, introduces the stories to come with the common theme of growing and changing relationships over time and how these changed relationships accommodate, or not, the needs of the characters. Each story involves a Bengali family or individual who has immigrated to America. In some stories, the characters are drawn back to India; in others they find a place for themselves in America; in still others, they are drawn to seek their future far from either place. The stories are also about loss - the loss of innocence, or intimacy, or love, or even life itself.

But death too, had the power to awe, she knew this now - that a human being could be alive for years and years, thinking and breathing, full of a million worries and feelings and thoughts, taking up space in the world, and then, in an instant, become absent, invisible. - from Unaccustomed Earth, page 46 -

The final three stories of the collection - interconnected by character - are actually more of a novella. In Once in a Lifetime, Hema recollects her childhood in Massachusetts when she meets Kaushik, the son of her parent’s close friends. Hema speaks directly to Kaushik in the narration, a technique which while unsettling, serves to bind the two characters together. The second story titled Year’s End, picks up the narration years later from Kaushik’s point of view as he deals with his father’s second marriage after the untimely death of Kaushik’s mother. In the final story titled Coming Ashore, Hema and Kaushik meet unexpectedly in Rome only weeks before Hema is to become married via an arranged marriage in India. These stories once again emphasize the growth of the characters and how this growth impacts and changes their relationship to each other. Lahiri also examines the cultural conflict between America and India as it reflects on the characters’ decisions.

Lahiri is a gifted storyteller, one who writes effortlessly and ties together complex themes with ease. Her writing is often simple, yet beautifully constructed with rich detail and in-depth characterizations. Readers who might shy away from short stories will find themselves delighted with Lahiri’s ability to make them feel connected to her characters. She compacts their lives in such a way that the reader feels as though they have spent a longer time with them - feeling their joys, sadness, regrets and hopes in rare depth.

Highly recommended.