Book Review: Goodnight June by Sarah Jio

Book Review: Goodnight June by Sarah Jio

Goodnight JuneWhat does this cover remind you of?

If you immediately started reciting “In the great green room there was a telephone and a red balloon and a picture of the cow jumping over the moon…”, then you’re definitely in tune with the central motif of Goodnight June.

Goodnight June is a contemporary novel about a young woman finding her way and reconnecting with her family’s past. June Anderson, age 34, is a high-powered New York banker who specializes in foreclosing on small businesses. She’s perfected the art of ruthless dedication to the bank’s best interests and is eminently successful — yet she’s also lonely, sad, and on the verge of physical disaster thanks to skyrocketing blood pressure. When June learns that her great-aunt Ruby has passed away and left her her beloved Seattle children’s bookstore, June heads west to settle the estate, dispose of the assets, and make her way back to her intense New York job as quickly as possible.

But then something happens. As June reenters the world of Bluebird Books, she starts to remember the years spent there with Ruby, and bit by bit, the bookstore and her family memories draw her in and demand her attention.

Everyone has a happy place, the scene that comes into view when you close your eyes and let your mind transport you to the dot on the globe where life is cozy, safe, warm. For me, that place is the bookstore, with its emerald green walls and the big picture windows that, at night, frame the stars twinkling above. The embers in the fireplace burn the color of a setting orange sun, and I’m wrapped in a quilt, seated in a big wingback chair reading a book.

Slowly, June discovers clues to her aunt’s secret life, starting with what may be the literary find of the century: Ruby was apparently best of friends with children’s author Margaret Wise Brown, and the two carried on a deep, emotional, soul-baring correspondence for many years. Before her death, Ruby had hidden letters in various books around the store, creating a scavenger hunt leading June on a journey of discovery and revelation.

As June is drawn into her aunt’s past, she meets the gorgeous restaurant owner next door, rediscovers her love of children’s books, and begins to consider making peace with her estranged sister. And out of all this grows June’s determination to save the bookstore from the bankers who want to shut it down — by publicizing Ruby’s role in inspiring author “Brownie” to write her masterpiece, Goodnight Moon.

I’m a sucker for books about bookstores, and from that perspective, Goodnight June was quite fun to read. Through June’s childhood memories, as well as the reminiscences of various community members who come together to save Bluebird Books, we hear over and over again the impact that reading can have on a child:

I think of what he said a moment ago, about wishing he could love reading again, and I remember something Ruby said to parents who claimed their children wouldn’t read, and to bored-looking teenagers sulking through the door with their younger siblings:

“All is takes is one book.”

On the other hand, none of the various story threads concerning June’s experiences, her family relationships, and her love life offer much to sink one’s teeth into. I found all of the personal aspects of the plot entertaining yet entirely predictable. Love with the cute guy next door? Check. Misunderstandings about an ex? Check. Tragic reconciliation with an estranged sibling? Check. Red herrings in the search for an unknown family member? Check. I can’t say that there was much of anything in this book that was a surprise, so that while it was a pleasant read that kept my interest, it didn’t require much thought or engagement. Even the places that were clearly designed to wring tears or provoke an emotional response were telegraphed far in advance — so unfortunately, my eyes remained dry and my heartstrings remained unplucked.

The fictional correspondence with Margaret Wise Brown was interesting to the extent that it presented some of the better known aspects of the author’s life, but in many ways were hard to believe, particularly as they’re designed to support the plot thread of the book which credits Ruby with providing “Brownie” with not only the inspiration for Goodnight Moon, but even some of the key phrases and imagery. Somehow, this didn’t feel creative to me. Rather than feeling like a tribute to the great contributions of Margaret Wise Brown, in some ways Goodnight June actually felt like it was diminishing her work by giving a fictional character that much influence over a real-life work of art.

All this to say that while I enjoyed reading Goodnight June as light entertainment, it didn’t feel particularly fresh or exciting, and I did have a problem with key pieces of the premise. But, thumbs up for showcasing the vital importance of children’s books and children’s bookstores! The pieces of Goodnight June that focus on the role of books in children’s lives were for me the most moving. Unfortunately, the storyline about the actual characters was too predictable to truly appeal to me.

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The details:

Title: Goodnight June
Author: Sarah Jio
Publisher: Plume
Publication date: May 27, 2014
Length: 320 pages
Genre: Contemporary fiction
Source: Review copy courtesy of Plume via NetGalley

At A Glance: Thirteenth Child by Patricia C. Wrede

Book Review: Thirteenth Child by Patricia C. Wrede

Thirteenth Child (Frontier Magic, #1)

Synopsis (via Goodreads):

Eff was born a thirteenth child. Her twin brother, Lan, is the seventh son of a seventh son. This means he’s supposed to possess amazing talent — and she’s supposed to bring only bad things to her family and her town. Undeterred, her family moves to the frontier, where her father will be a professor of magic at a school perilously close to the magical divide that separates settlers from the beasts of the wild.

I recently finished reading Thirteenth Child with my son, and while we both enjoyed it, I hesitate to declare this book an unmitigated success.

First, the good: In the world of Thirteenth Child, the American frontier is redefined as a place in which magic is the only thing standing between people and all sorts of deadly beasts. In the country of Columbia, the Mammoth River marks the barrier between civilization and the wild, and as settlers venture west, they rely on magicians to provide the protective spells needed to keep out the wild. The world-building here is quite imaginative — a world in which magic is commonplace, used on a basic level to manage household chores and day-to-day tasks, and on a more complex level, to provide the means of human survival.

Main character Eff is a girl whose powers are just beginning to emerge by the end of this book. Brought up believing herself to harbor some inner evil, thanks to being a thirteenth child, Eff is hesitant and uncomfortable when it comes to using magic, until a gifted teacher introduces her to non-Avrupan (read non-European) approaches to magic. Eff’s worldview is expanded, and she starts to tap into non-traditional approaches to magic, realizing that her talents may be positive after all.

The not-quite-as-good: Thirteenth Child is the first book in the Frontier Magic trilogy, and as such, has to cover a lot of ground in terms of exposition and explanation. Likewise, quite a lot of time is covered, as we follow Eff from age five to age eighteen. Because of the length of time covered in a relatively short book, many of the chapters feel more like summaries than actual events — basically, well, that year, not much happened except Eff’s brother went away to school, or, that year, Eff was sick for a while, missed a lot of classes, and ended up having to repeat a grade.

The author is building a world system from scratch, and at times the jargon threatens to overwhelm the plot. We have Avrupan magic, Hijero-Cathayan magic, and Aphrikan magic, as well as Rationalists, the North Plains Territory Homestead Claim and Settlement Office, and circuit magicians.

The climax of this volume involves a plague of grubs that threaten the western settlements, and Eff’s role in fighting the bug invasion. The solution to the problem comes across like convoluted mumbo-jumbo, not that it’s not exciting to read.

Finally, on the negative side, I’d be remiss in not mentioning the to-do over this book from when it first came out concerning the lack of a Native American population. The only people in the book are the (presumably) white settlers, with a couple of people of color mixed in among the townsfolk and school magicians. There isn’t a native culture, at least not one that’s mentioned at all in this book. Apparently, there was quite a bit of criticism over this when the book came out. As a work of fantasy fiction, I suppose it’s the author’s right to create whatever world she sees fit… but I leave it to potential readers to decide whether or not this is a deal-breaker for them.

Bottom line: My son and I enjoyed Thirteenth Child enough to continue with the series. Despite uneven pacing, the story itself is fresh and intriguing — so that the duller parts are easily outweighed by chapters and sequences that are suspenseful and highly engaging.

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The details:

Title: Thirteenth Child
Author: Patricia C. Wrede
Publisher: Scholastic
Publication date: 2009
Length: 344 pages
Genre: Children’s fantasy fiction
Source: Purchased

Book Review: Empire Girls by Suzanne Hayes and Loretta Nyhan

Book Review: Empire Girls by Suzanne Hayes and Loretta Nyhan

Empire GirlsFlapper-era New York is having a moment. The 1920s in Manhattan seems to be the setting of choice for novel after novel right now — not without good reason, of course. What could be more perfect than the glamour, danger, and reckless freedom of the era, with young women living large, gin flowing freely, and a country going a little bit crazy after the trauma of war years?

Fitting in nicely with this trend is the new novel Empire Girls, focusing on two sisters, Rose and Ivy, and their adventures in the big city. Rose and Ivy have been raised by their widower father in a quiet home in upstate New York. Ivy is the free spirit, going off with her father on explorations and adventures, while Rose is the responsible one, tending the house, making sure dinner is served on time, and trying to keep her family together. But when their father dies suddenly, the girls receive shocking news: They have an older brother, last seen in New York City, who will inherit the house — and unless they can find him and get him to deal with the estate’s debts, they’ll be turned out of their home.

With no other options, the girls set out for the city — Ivy excited, Rose in absolute dread — and head for their brother’s last known address, the Empire House, a semi-respectable establishment renting rooms to young ladies under the watchful eye of a not-terribly-friendly landlady. Once there, the girls have to find their way through the temptations and risks of the city. Never close before, the sisters fight and come together, each finding new facets of herself as they navigate gin joints and speakeasies, charming gents and wild girls, while piecing together the clues to track down their elusive brother.

Empire Girls succeeds in painting the New York of the 1920s, capturing the sights, smells, and unbearable heat of summer in the city. The novel vividly describes the allure of freedom for two country girls, and what they must give up in order to thrive. At the same time, it’s not all fun and abandon: In Empire Girls, we also get a taste of the sacrifices made by the men who lived through the Great War, and come face to face with the darker side of the 1920s in the damaged soldiers who are left to rebuild lives for themselves.

Empire Girls is written by two authors, each taking on the voice of one of the sisters, so that Rose and Ivy each get to “speak” for themselves. This mostly works, although the narrative occasionally feels choppy, and it was sometimes difficult to sort out whose voice we were hearing without referring back to the chapter headers.

Stylistic issues aside, I found the plot to be quite enjoyable, nicely layering the mystery of the missing brother on top of the story of two young women finding themselves and rediscovering each other.

Maybe the New York jazz age thing is getting a bit overdone — but here, it really works. As a showcase for Rose and Ivy and their newfound independence, the Manhattan of the 1920s is a great vehicle for illustrating the changing opportunities available to young women, the wild freedom embraced by people who’ve lived through the awful war years, and the prospect of a future without rigid rules and societal expectations.

And even more importantly, Empire Girls is just plain fun. I enjoyed the characters, the setting, and the plot. It’s a quick book, light but with real emotion, and a great choice for a summer read.

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The details:

Title: Empire Girls
Author: Suzanne Hayes and Loretta Nyhan
Publisher: Harlequin MIRA
Publication date: May 27, 2014
Length: 304 pages
Genre: Historical fiction
Source: Review copy courtesy of Harlequin MIRA via NetGalley

Book Review: The Girl With All The Gifts by M. R. Carey

Book Review: The Girl With All The Gifts by M. R. Carey

The Girl with All the Gifts

The synopsis for The Girl With All the Gifts is certainly intriguing:

Every morning, Melanie waits in her cell to be collected for class.

When they come for her, Sergeant Parks keeps his gun pointing at her while two of his people strap her into the wheelchair. She thinks they don’t like her. She jokes that she won’t bite. But they don’t laugh.

Melanie is a very special girl.

What kind of gifts does Melanie have? Superpowers? Some sort of incredible strength? A secret radioactive aura?

Nope, nope, and nope.

Stop reading now if you don’t want to know!

Bottom line?

(Look away now! Last chance!)

The Girl With All The Gifts is an incredibly inventive, original, and unpredictable… zombie story.

Yes, it’s a zombie story. And I kind of wish I’d known that from the start. Instead, I began the book wondering what was so special and important about this one little girl and what makes her so dangerous, expecting… oh, I don’t know, outbursts of deadly gamma rays or the ability to kill people with her brain.

But before long, we start to hear about “hungries” — the bands of undead, hungry for human brains, who’ve been preying on the remaining live people in the twenty years since the global disaster known as the Breakdown. Melanie and other children are being held as part of a scientific study conducted at a secure army base, the subjects of experimentation designed to test the fungus responsible for destroying host bodies and taking over. Most hungries are mindless beings, driven only by their need to feed — but Melanie and the other children are something more: Actual, sentient beings with the ability to think, to learn, and to feel. Are they human? Hungries? Or some sort of hybrid?

Teacher Helen Justineau is drawn to Melanie’s quick mind and sensitive heart, and feels compelled to shield her from the cruelties of Sergeant Parks and the cold laboratory of Dr. Caldwell. When the base is overrun, Justineau, Parks, Private Gallagher, Dr. Caldwell, and Melanie form a small band and attempt to survive on the road to the only safe place left in Britain, a sanctuary city called Beacon. But the road is dangerous and deadly, and the odds are very much against them.

As The Girl With All The Gifts moves into road trip territory, we get to know each of the characters as individuals and see them fleshed out from one-dimensional stock figures (teacher, soldier, scientist) into people with histories, desires, pains, and complexities. There are surprises along the way, and all are proven to be much more nuanced than they originally seemed.

The adventure aspects are well-drawn and suspenseful — sometimes almost unbearably so. There’s danger, and lots of skin-crawlingly disgusting encounters with the undead. Unlike the hungries, the plot never shambles — instead, it’s a fast-paced tear from one deadly scene to another. Survival is not guaranteed. Heck, it’s not even very likely. And as the body count rises, we get more and more clues into the origins of the Breakdown, who Melanie really is, and what the future may hold.

I absolutely could not put this book down. With echoes of The Road and Never Let Me Go, The Girl With All The Gifts tell a chilling tale of a future that’s scary and almost — but not quite — hopeless. A recurring theme of this book is the myth of Pandora, who unleashes all manner of woes upon the world but also introduces hope. Melanie herself is but the newest iteration of the disaster that’s destroyed the world as we know it, but she does also represent some sort of glimmer of hope for a world that’s fundamentally different, but perhaps not entirely horrible.

With an ending that’s completely unexpected and yet surprisingly fitting, The Girl With All The Gifts is a fascinating, thrilling read that should not be missed. Whether you’re a fan of zombie stories, post-apocalyptic worlds, or just plain good storytelling, this is one book that you definitely should check out.

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The details:

Title: The Girl With All The Gifts
Author: M. R. Carey
Publisher: Orbit
Publication date: June 19, 2014
Length: 416 pages
Genre: Science fiction/horror
Source: Review copy courtesy of Orbit via NetGalley

 

 

Book Review: Trouble by Non Pratt

Book Review: Trouble by Non Pratt

TroubleWhen Hannah finds herself pregnant at age 15, it certainly doesn’t come as a surprise to the reader, although Hannah seems to be pretty stunned herself. By the time Hannah gets around to taking a pregnancy test, we’ve seen her out at the park every Friday night, hooking up with whatever boy she can find, whether or not he’s actually available. With her underdressed, oversexed best friend Katie, Hannah is known for her sexiness and her willingness. So is it only a matter of time until it all catches up with her?

And then there’s Aaron, the new boy at school, son of the the new history teacher, and mysteriously unknowable — cool, but not excessively so; accepted by the in-crowd, but just ever so slightly stand-offish, with people to hang with but no close friends.

Hannah is hiding a big secret, and so is Aaron… and when Hannah’s former bestie blabs about the pregnancy to exactly the wrong person, the news is soon all over Facebook and Hannah’s reputation is trashed — until Aaron steps in and offers to pretend to be the baby’s father. Why? Well, Hannah needs a hero, and Aaron desperately needs to do something heroic. The two march forward together through the rest of the school year, watching Hannah’s bump grow bigger and bigger, and in the process, becoming each other’s rock and best friend.

Of course, nothing is perfect. There’s family drama to deal with, and Katie simply will not stop trying to mess up Hannah’s life even further, no matter who gets hurt. Through it all, we get Hannah’s view of life as a pregnant teen — ugly clothes, getting up to pee at night, and suffering the horrors of overly graphic prenatal classes.

There’s quite a lot to like about Trouble. Told in the first person in alternating voices, we get both Hannah and Aaron’s perspectives on themselves and on each other, and the author does a terrific job of showing how perceptive and at the same time how dense a hormonal teen can be. Both teens are funny, smart, and aware, yet they still manage to make foolish choices and hurt each other in the process. Yet it’s their friendship that sees them through, and as they finally break down their own protective barriers and share their personal truths, we get a picture of just how important a true friend can be.

Hannah is a puzzling character, and the author very cleverly shows us Hannah in a certain light early on, leading us to form certain opinions, and not revealing until much later that the public Hannah is not at all a true picture of who she is inside. She’s quite engaging and a terrific character to get to know, and yet, I never quite understood all of her decisions.

Aaron too is quite likeable, and his seemingly illogical nobility in rescuing Hannah from social purgatory eventually makes more sense, as his past and his secrets come to life.

In addition to Hannah and Aaron, we meet their families — and despite their quirks, it’s actually quite a nice change to see a YA novel with parents who are responsible, caring, supportive, and truly present. Neither of the main characters come from messed-up homes or are disadvantaged. In fact, Trouble makes a good point of showing that accidents and bad decisions can happen to anyone, even kids from good homes and with everything going for them. (Irony of ironies, Hannah’s mom is a sex ed specialist — this is not a girl who doesn’t know about condoms, safe sex, and morning after pills!)

Trouble was first published in the UK, with its US release coming up in June. I think it will translate well across the pond, although I’d imagine American teens may struggle a bit with some of the Brit speak and certain concepts specific to the British school system. Still, this should be no more than a mild inconvenience. The story itself is engaging and addresses certain universal experiences, and I think any teen reader, no matter the country of origin, should be able to relate to Hannah and Aaron’s experiences.

Overall, I’d recommend Trouble for anyone who enjoys contemporary YA without too much much of a sugar-coating. This isn’t a traditional love story, so don’t expect fireworks or declarations at the end. In fact, Trouble is refreshing in that it avoids many of the overused tropes of today’s YA fiction, such as insta-love, redeemed bad boys, or realizing that the boy next door is actually much hotter than the hunky, popular boy after all.  Trouble is the story of a girl with all sorts of issues and a big baby bump, and the unlikely friend who steps in to get both of their lives back on track. Hannah and Aaron are an odd pairing, but they become true friends, and it’s both fun and touching to see how they grow and change — together.

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The details:

Title: Trouble
Author: Non Pratt
Publisher: Walker Books Ltd.
Publication date: March 6, 2014 (to be published in US on June 10, 2014)
Length: 384 pages
Genre: Young adult contemporary fiction
Source: Purchased

Book Review: The Farm by Tom Rob Smith

Book Review: The Farm by Tom Rob Smith

The FarmFamily loyalties, secrets and conspiracies, and questions about mental health lie at the center of the new novel The Farm by author Tom Rob Smith. In this compulsively readable book, the reader is left to wonder just what is true and what is delusion, and unraveling the hints and clues makes for a reading experience that’s hard to walk away from once started.

In The Farm, 20-something Daniel lives in a beautiful apartment in London, supported by his older boyfriend Mark — the boyfriend that he just never seems to find the right time to mention to his parents, especially now that they’ve retired from their gardening business and moved to a farm in Sweden. Although Daniel remembers his childhood as peaceful and happy, he’s drifted away from his parents in recent years, allowing miles and his own secret to create a distance that becomes harder and harder to bridge.

As the story opens, Daniel receives a shocking phone call from his father, telling him that his mother Tilde is in the hospital, having suffered a mental collapse, and is now institutionalized and being treated for a psychotic episode. No sooner does Daniel get off the phone to arrange for a flight to Sweden than he gets another call, this one from his mother, pleading with Daniel not to believe his father’s lies and informing him that she’s on her way to London, where she’ll explain everything.

Tilde’s arrival rocks Daniel to the core. His always cheerful, together mother arrives looking bedraggled and spouting wild comments about conspiracies and crimes. She claims to have proof — a battered leather satchel that she won’t allow out of her grasp. She warns Daniel that they must not allow his father to find them, as he and his partners in crime are determined to lock her away and discredit her as part of their own cover-up.

What’s Daniel to do? His mother’s tales sound too wild to be believed, yet there’s something there that compels him to listen. She’s clearly unstable, and as she displays her evidence and lays out her story, she does sound unhinged — but her tale has enough rationality in it that Daniel can’t dismiss it outright. As Tilde goes further and further into her story, it’s clear that something unexpected happened in Sweden, and that the peaceful country retirement went very wrong, very quickly. But every shred of Tilde’s evidence can be explained away, so who is to be believed? Is Tilde a sick woman, in need of commitment to a mental facility for her own well-being? Or is she a woman who’s been set up to take the fall in order to keep a dark underbelly of depraved acts hidden from view?

Reading The Farm, we’re as torn as Daniel. Much of what Tilde says has a ring of truth, and obviously she believes wholeheartedly in what she’s saying. There are enough errant facts to indicate that something was amiss in the small Swedish community where the couple had hoped to make their home. And yet, Tilde’s wild distractions, her grasping for meaning in small inconsequentialities, leave us to wonder whether Daniel’s father might have been right all along.

I won’t spoil anything by going into an explanation of how it all works out. Daniel’s task is to unravel his mother’s stories before his father shows up to have her committed again, and it’s up to Daniel to figure out where the truth lies. The reader is along for the ride, seeing the bits and pieces as Daniel does, and over the course of the book, trying to fit together the puzzle pieces in order to see the greater whole.

The Farm has a darkness to it, woven in among the domestic details of a seemingly simple life. The empty landscapes of remote Sweden have a sinister overtone, and even the supposed richness of the land and the nearby river betray Tilde, as nothing works out for her as she’d envisioned. The purity of self-sustaining country life that she’d dreamed of is nothing but illusion, and the remoteness of the farm doesn’t shield Tilde and her husband Chris from the pressures and politics of the local farming community and its more influential members. The writing conveys the bleakness and isolation of the farm, the stark beauty of the Swedish countryside adding an element of mythical danger with its deep, dark forests.

There’s a darkness, too, in the depiction of Daniel’s happy family. He remembers a perfect childhood in which his parents never argued or showed signs of the slightest disagreement. He also believed his parents to be completely happy. Sure, some oddities are there — Daniel grew up without siblings or any relatives, his mother being estranged from the parents in Sweden whom she’d left decades earlier. As Daniel uncovers the secrets and lies within his parents’ marriage, he also is forced to confront his own need for secrecy and accept his role in creating the emotional chasms between him and his parents that allowed this crisis to go so far without his knowledge.

The author keeps us on our toes. Like Daniel, we spend much of the book listening to Tilde try to convince us that what she thinks happened is what really happened. The writing here shifts between Daniel’s observations of his mother’s behavior and longer segments in which we hear Tilde’s first person account. This is the unreliable narrator device at its best, serving to keep us off-balance, torn between wanting to believe and knowing something is just… off.

I enjoyed The Farm very much. It’s a quick read, and really impossible to put down once you start. I couldn’t stop thinking about Tilde’s story, knowing that what she says can’t be entirely true, yet knowing too that there must be an answer as to why she believes what she believes — and that even if she is unreliable, there’s enough that’s questionable in her tale to show that something isn’t right at the farm. Perhaps the big, dark secrets and the unraveling of the mysteries weren’t quite as huge as I’d expected; still, the truth that emerges is devastating in its own quiet way. The ending of The Farm is entirely satisfying, true to the characters and adding a sad logic to all of the events we’d heard about.

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The details:

Title: The Farm
Author: Tom Rob Smith
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Publication date: June 3, 2014
Length: 368 pages
Genre: Mystery/thriller
Source: Review copy courtesy of Grand Central Publishing via NetGalley

Book Review: The Girls at the Kingfisher Club by Genevieve Valentine

Book Review: The Girls at the Kingfisher Club by Genevieve Valentine

The Girls at the Kingfisher Club: A NovelIn this fairy tale retelling, author Genevieve Valentine takes the classic story of the Twelve Dancing Princesses and transplants it to Jazz Age Manhattan, with a result that is equal parts captivating and frustrating.

The Twelve Dancing Princesses was always one of my favorite fairy tales. In a nutshell: A king with twelve daughters locks the princesses into their chamber each night, but each morning finds that their shoes are worn completely through. He offers the pick of the princesses to any suitor who can find out for him how the girls wear out their shoes — but anyone who tries and does not succeed must die. Prince after prince fails to figure out the secret, until finally one man comes who manages to outwit the princesses and follows them to a secret castle where they dance all night until their shoes are worn through. Ta da! He wins the hand of a princess and the kingdom besides. The end.

In The Girls at the Kingfisher Club, the father is no king, but a wealthy, grasping businessman trying to break into high society. His wife produces daughter after daughter, much to his dissatisfaction, so he keeps her pregnant, time and again, until after twelve failed attempts at a son and heir, his frail wife finally gives up the ghost.

And the girls? Each girl is sent upstairs to be raised among her sisters, with a tiny allowance for clothing, a meager library to learn the basics, and strict requirements that they be neither seen nor heard. The girls are hidden away from the world, kept indoors and educated first by tutors, then later by the older sisters, with no hope and no way out. The oldest sister, Josephine (Jo), serves as liaison, summoned a few times a year into her father’s presence to give reports, receive any orders, and then sent back to enforce her father’s rules.

But as the girls age, their frustration grows, and Jo knows it’s only a matter of time until her sisters run away or act rashly enough to bring disaster down on all of them — and so she figures out a release for them all. Jo learns to dance by sneaking off to see movies, then teaches her sisters, and eventually starts sneaking the girls out of the house at midnight to dance the night away at Manhattan’s hidden speaky-easys and dance halls.

Jo is known amongst her sisters as the General — the one in charge, demanding instant obedience, running their days and nights. Jo determines which nights they go out. Jo gets the cabs, Jo sets the rules: Flirt, but don’t give a man your name. Have fun, but don’t get romantically involved. Above all else, always be ready to run, and know where the exits are. The dance halls are glitzy and glamorous, and the beautiful, exotic girls with no names — affectionately nicknamed “the Princesses”  — are the talk of the town, but there’s a constant risk of police raids, or even worse, having their father find out what they’re up to.

When their father finally decides to assert his control in new and awful ways once his daughters are of marriageable age, the sisters have to figure out how to survive — and Jo has to both let go and start to live for herself, rather than putting her own needs after those of her sisters.

Here's the version I remember, from The Twelve Dancing Princesses by Ruth Sanderson

Here’s the version I remember, from The Twelve Dancing Princesses by Ruth Sanderson

There’s a lot to like about The Girls at the Kingfisher Club. In this mostly successful retelling, the fairy tale works well in its new setting. There’s a terrible logic to the father’s cruelty and tyranny, and the girls’ lives are uniformly dull and drab except for their nightly escapes. The dance halls are described in all their decadent 1920s glory — no wonder the sisters come to life on the dance floor, dancing the Charleston with enchanted admirers, always the belles of the ball, living fully in the moment. The era is a smart choice for this story, a time when women started emerging into something like independence, yet often chained to their fathers or husbands by complete financial dependence and a society that viewed strong women as depraved, or worse, mentally unstable.

Where the novel is less successful is in creating twelve distinct characters for the reader to care about. Jo is the point of view for the story, and we come to know her sisters through her eyes, but it’s difficult to differentiate one from another, particularly those we only see in passing. Certain sisters have more distinctive roles to play, but others seem to come and go with only a few lines or scenes, and it’s hard to remember who’s who or what’s special about each one.

The narrative style is somewhat choppy, so that while some passages and chapters keep the feeling of  a fairy tale in their descriptions — telling the story in broad strokes that seem like an outsider’s perspective on an enchanted world — other chapters bog down and feel sluggish. The book suffers a bit from a lack of intimacy. Perhaps because there are so many girls to keep track of, none seem very knowable, and I didn’t end up feeling connected emotionally to any of the characters, thus making the stakes of the story less compelling than they should have been.

Did I enjoy The Girls at the Kingfisher Club? Yes, quite a bit. Still, something was lacking, and the story always felt as thought it was unfolding at a distance. I wanted to know what happened, but I wasn’t invested in any one of the sisters enough — even main character Jo – to make the story feel the urgency it should have by the end.

Still, if you enjoy reading about the roaring 20s and relish the thought of a flapper-era fairy tale, check out The Girls at the Kingfisher Club. For those who always wanted to be one of the royal, glamorous sisters who dance the night away, this book offers a fresh spin on an old tale — and if nothing else, will make you want to dust off your copy of the Brothers Grimm.

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The details:

Title: The Girls at the Kingfisher Club
Author: Genevieve Valentine
Publisher: Atria Books
Publication date: June 3, 2014
Length: 288 pages
Genre: Adult fiction/historical fiction
Source: Review copy courtesy of Atria Books via NetGalley

Book Review: We Were Liars by E. Lockhart

Book Review: We Were Liars by E. Lockhart

We Were LiarsThe four are inseparable: Cady, Mirren, Johnny, and Gat, and together, they are the Liars: Three cousins plus one who spend each summer on the family’s private island near Martha’s Vineyard. The Sinclairs are beautiful, strong, smart, rich — an all-American success story. Life is easy, charmed, perfect when you’re a Sinclair. The world is yours for the taking.

But there are cracks in this perfect picture, as we learn in We Were Liars. Narrated by Cady (Cadence), we get a peek behind the facade and see the ugliness and lies that permeate the Sinclair family and threaten to ruin the idyllic bliss of summers at Beechwood Island.

Looking back at her summers with the Liars, Cady recalls when Johnny’s family first brought Gat to the island during summer eight — the summer when the three cousins turned eight years old. The Sinclairs are all blond and golden-skinned; Gat, of Indian descent, is dark and to Cady’s eyes, beautiful and exotic:

His nose was dramatic, his mouth sweet. Skin deep brown, hair black and waving. Body wired with energy. Gat seemed spring-loaded. Like he was searching for something. He was contemplation and enthusiasm. Ambition and strong coffee. I could have looked at him forever.

The four become fast friends, and Gat returns year after year. The Liars are inseparable — but for Cady, it’s much more than friendship, as over the years she falls further and further in love with Gat.

But something happens during summer fifteen — something that leaves Cady in a permanent state of suffering, plagued by debilitating migraines and left without any but the barest memory of what happened one eventful night. Her mother won’t tell, and neither will any of the aunts or cousins. The doctors have said that it’s best for Cady to remember on her own — but why? What really happened?

We don’t know, and neither does Cady. And that’s about all you’ll get out of me about the plot of this stunning, shocking, unexpectedly evocative book.

Really, the less you know up front, the better. Clues pile up, but as we come to learn, Cady’s mind is a dark and twisty place, so that her statements often start off sounding like something to be take literally, only to end in heavily weighted symbolism and metaphor.

Early on, Cady describes the day her father walked out on her and her mother, packing up his belongings and then getting in the car to drive away:

Then he pulled out a handgun and shot me in the chest.

Wait, what? Oh, there’s more…

I was standing on the lawn and I fell. The bullet hole opened wide and my heart rolled out of my rib cage and down into a flower bed. Blood gushed rhythmically from my open wound,
then from my eyes,
my ears,
my mouth.
It tasted like salt and failure. The bright red shame of being unloved soaked the grass in front of our house, the bricks of the path, the steps to the porch. My heart spasmed among the peonies like a trout.

The language in We Were Liars is extraordinary. From run-of-the-mill to poetic flights of fancy, the narrative swoops up and down, taking us from a description of a simple picnic to scenes of bloody chaos that exist only in Cady’s eyes. What’s real and what isn’t is never quite a simple thing to see, and Cady’s faulty memory is just one piece of the puzzle of what’s really going on with the Sinclairs.

Woven into Cady’s stories are tellings and retellings of fairy tales and Shakespeare, and these tales have a hypnotic quality, lulling the reader until the next scene hits us over the head. In each of Cady’s fairy tales, there are princesses and a king, and the tales go in all sorts of unexpected directions, turning traditional stories on their heads and mixing in teen slang and swearing.

It’s hard to explain just what is so powerful about We Were Liars, but trust me: You want to read this book. Even though I had heard enough to know that I should brace myself for something, I still truly had my breath taken away by the developments and revelations as the plot progressed.

So don’t go reading synopses or looking for details ahead of time. Just pick up a copy and find out for yourself!

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The details:

Title: We Were Liars
Author: E. Lockhart
Publisher: Delacorte Press
Publication date: May 13, 2014
Length: 240 pages
Genre: Young adult fiction
Source: Review copy courtesy of Delacorte Press via NetGalley

Book Review: Then and Always by Dani Atkins

Book Review: Then and Always by Dani Atkins

 Before I launch into my review of Then and Always, I need to make a small disclaimer: I am not usually a sobber. I don’t get weepy. I’m a pretty hard-eyed cynic, as a matter of fact. So why was I a drippy mess — in my workplace, no less — after reading this book? Read on…

In Then and Always, we meet 23-year-old Rachel Wiltshire, whose life has been filled with loss and grief since the freak accident that took the life of her best friend Jimmy five years earlier. But when Rachel returns to her hometown for a friend’s wedding and passes out suddenly, she wakes to a very different sort of life.

Suddenly, Rachel’s life is not the one she knows. She wakes up in the hospital to see her concerned friends huddled nearby… including a very much alive Jimmy. Not only that, her scars are gone, she’s engaged to her gorgeous boyfriend from high school, and she has the job she’s always wanted working as a magazine writer. The problem is, Rachel doesn’t remember any of the events from the past five years, and she’s convinced that she had some other life.

Does she have amnesia? Is she mentally ill? How can what she remembers be real, when everyone around her insists she’s been here with them in this “new” life all along? And really, why would she even want to go back, when the new version of her life is so much better?

It’s an intriguing set-up, and for the most part, it’s quite absorbing. The fast-paced narrative moves us forward through Rachel’s first days in her new life and allows us to experience the confusion of a world that’s familiar yet completely foreign right alongside Rachel. Her joy at finding Jimmy by her side is lovely, and it’s understandable that she’d feel hesitant toward her loving fiancé Matt, since she doesn’t remember their relationship or even the fact of their engagement.

We’re left to wonder along with Rachel just what’s going on. She did suffer a head trauma, so the amnesia theory is pretty persuasive. At one point, Rachel floats the idea of parallel worlds to Jimmy — and he simply laughs at her. This is not, after all, a science fiction novel, and as Jimmy makes clear, there will be no mysterious wormholes behind these strange events, but rather, a real-world answer that may (or may not) explain Rachel’s confusion.

Still, there are some stray clues that seem to contradict the amnesia theory. Rachel catches fleeting smells that are out of place and hears sounds that aren’t really there. A breakdown of some sort, perhaps? The author introduces these small moments as no more than hints, but ultimately, they are worth paying attention to.

Within the last chapter or so of the book, I found myself getting angry when it seemed that no real answer was in sight. Rachel’s dilemmas in terms of her life path were coming to a resolution, but no explanation of her split worlds had been provided. Just as I was getting to ready to rant about the weak finish… it all made sense. Ultimately, there’s an ending that’s fitting and powerful — and while I can’t say it made me happy (see above re: tears), it worked.

Had I not glanced back at the book description online and seen it listed as “women’s fiction” (whatever that means…), I might have gone off in a few wild directions with my speculations and suppositions. Sinister conspiracy theories, quantum physics, maybe a TARDIS? In the end, Then and Always sticks to a set-up and conclusion that work within their context — and so while I always love a thrilling game of cat-and-mouse or a good gaslighting, this is not that kind of book.

The book blurb for Then and Always reads:

For fans of One Day, What Alice Forgot, and the hit film Sliding Doors, comes an absorbing and surprising debut novel about a young woman who, after an accident, gets a second chance at life . . . just not in one she remembers.

Take that with a grain of salt, and you’ll do fine. I think I went into reading this book with slightly warped expectations because of the blurb — but once I got into the flow of the book, I left my expectations behind and just enjoyed the story. There’s just enough romance, some sweet moments focused on family, and the kind of friendships that last from childhood into adulthood. Nicely written, sentimental without being mawkish, Then and Always is sure to please readers who enjoy a story that has happy moments but still manages to wring the tears out of you by the end.

 As for me, the hard-eyed cynic: I finished reading Then and Always while sitting in my office with a cup of coffee, enjoying a momentary lull. Big mistake. That ending! It snuck up on me and smacked me over the head. There may have been a bit of blubbering going on… So word to the wise: Maybe read Then and Always in the privacy of your own home, where you won’t have to explain away your tear-streaked face and puffy eyes.

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The details:

Title: Then and Always
Author: Dani Atkins
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Publication date: May 20, 2014
Length: 320 pages
Genre: Adult contemporary fiction
Source: Review copy courtesy of Ballantine Books via NetGalley

Guest Review: I Shall Be Near To You by Erin Lindsay McCabe

Please join me in welcoming my wonderful friend Mary, who consistently recommends superb books to me. Mary is the one who first encouraged me to read I Shall Be Near To You, and so I thought it only fitting to invite her to write a review.

***Guest Review: I Shall Be Near To You by Erin Lindsay McCabe***

***Reviewed by Mary***

IShallBeNear

“His arms pull me tight against his chest and I bury my face in his shoulder. He shakes and it is dark enough I can still say I ain’t ever seen him cry. My heart goes to cracking wide open, but at least I am alive to feel it. I am a different kind of woman now, a wife who knows what this war really is. At least I am part of this war, part of the things Jeremiah’s done here, things that will always be hiding somewhere in his heart.”

New York, 1862. Rosetta marries her childhood sweetheart just before he leaves to enlist with the Union Army. Jeremiah is naive and optimistic about the war, thinking he’ll be gone a short while and return with money enough for them to buy their own farm. Even so, Rosetta doesn’t want him to go. Without Jeremiah, she has to play the role of wife, cooking, mending, making soap, when she’d rather be outside tending the animals or helping with the harvest. Rosetta is stubborn and spirited, and it isn’t long before she hacks off her braid, dresses in Jeremiah’s old clothes and follows her husband to war.

Rosetta is a force, a fighting wife, a woman brave enough to follow her husband into hell. Their love is both fierce and tender, and their connection to one another endures long stretches of boredom, constant hunger, and short bursts of battle-born terror. Neither of them truly understood what war would be, and the author, with well-placed poetic imagery and necessary grit, conveys the realities of a soldier’s life.

 

“I aim careful in the dying light and fire two rounds…the first don’t hit a thing, but the second shot makes a space in the line advancing. Something heavy settles in my belly when the stain blooms on that soldier’s chest, the hole in the line, the tear in the fabric of some other family.”


Rosetta’s voice is strong and straightforward; her struggles and fears are authentic and entirely relatable. The supporting characters are well-drawn, compelling, easy to get attached to. There is just the right amount of historic detail to capture the essence of the time period without inundating the reader with “research.” The way the story is told, the structure and pacing, seems effortless (though I am sure it wasn’t), and thankfully, there is no epilogue to stitch up every last detail. In short, this is as close to perfect as it can get. If you love historical fiction – if you love great fiction – read this book. But read it slowly. Savour your time with these unforgettable characters and their heart-wrenching story. 

And…when you read the last page, close the book and still find yourself unable to let go of the story, read these interesting links:

The title of the book was inspired by a real letter from Union soldier Sullivan Ballou to his wife Sarah. Read it here.

The author’s playlist. Music can strike an emotional chord with me, and I love that the author included the songs she listened to while writing. These echo the mood of the book so well. Make sure you listen to “My Father’s Father” when you have finished the book. So, so moving.

An interview with the author. I love hearing about the process of getting this book revised and published. It was obviously a labor of love.

The original photo from the cover.Were you, like me, curious about the soldier pictured on the front of the novel? I wanted to see his (her?) whole face, and I was surprised to discover that the soldier was actually a Confederate.

A Savage Day in American History. A little more information about the Battle of Antietam.


About the reviewer:

MaryMary is a life-long reader and self-professed book-nerd. She carries a book with her wherever she goes, and if she isn’t reading, she’s either sleeping or dead.

Want to read more of Mary’s reviews? You can find her here on Goodreads — just tell her Bookshelf Fantasies sent you!

Stay tuned:

I Shall Be Near To You is my spotlight book this week, and there are more related blog posts to come!