Synopsis: Chip Linton's life was irreversibly damaged the day a flock of geese flew into the engines of his commercial jet, causing him to attempt a water landing that killed thirty-nine of his passengers. No Sully Sullenberger this time. PTSD symptoms in the form of nightmares and phantom pains force he, his wife Emily and twin daughters to move from Pennsylvania to rural New Hampshire to regain their lives and sanity.
Except they don't find sanity, but an evil that begins to invade every aspect of their existence. The townspeople seem to have a cultish fetish about gardening and have taken an unhealthy interest in the girls. Their old Victorian home has a bloody past with a small wooden door in the basement, bolted shut. And Chip is being visited by his dead passengers, who come with a list of requests.
My thoughts: For those that have heard that the airplane crash scene was brutal (which not only haunts the beginning of the book but is pervasive throughout), they heard right. Bohjalian did his research because this was some graphic business, and one that will probably never ever quite be exorcised from my mind. Just, reader beware.
Beyond that bit of unpleasantness, the story was deliciously creepy. Ghosts, and weird townsfolk and twins and basements with dirt floors. The supernatural and the real collide, and both gave me the heebie jeebies. This was the stuff that fueled many a Stephen King novel, and its a good reliable recipe. And Bohjalian has the writing skills to pull it off. I'm being intentionally vague here, because you need to let this story invade your skull like it did mine, spoiler-free, but there were scenes, people. Ones beyond the plane crash, that made the hairs stand up on my arms and made me fear sleep.
I've seen some people question the ending, it's tone and direction. I loved it. It isn't what you would want necessarily, but it is appropriately chilling and twisted and something you will carry around with you for days.
4.5 out of 5 (Half point taken off for making me afraid to fly)
Synopsis: In addition to being assigned a special detail intended to solve the murder of a policewoman and his best friend, Harry Hole also picks up a string of bank robberies, one of which resulted in a cold-blooded murder. At the same time, Harry monkeys around with an old lover while his girlfriend is away, and the lover is found dead from a presumed self-inflicted wound. Trouble always seems to nip at Harry's heels.
Also typical for Mr. Hole is a rabbit warren of leads, dozens of red herrings, and a pile of dead bodies, all of which take him to Brazil, into a gang of gypsies, into the lives of cheating spouses and jealous brothers, and into smarmy and vindictive office politics. He also teams up with uber forensics specialist Beatte, who could possibly be an emotional replacement for Harry's dead partner.
With wry humor and clumsy panache (something Hole seems to lose as time goes by) the multiple layers and multiple crimes are exposed and solved. But not without a piece of Harry being lost forever.
My thoughts: Nesbo is really starting to have his moment. While "The Redbreast" was fulfilling as a mystery thriller, it was dense. With "Nemesis" however, you can almost physically ride his wave of endorphins that pump up some of his scenes here. You can FEEL him on a roll, and as a reader, you hang onto his rope and get drug along with him. So much fun.
I was delighted with the Harry presented in this installment, knowing that in "The Devil's Star" he is in dark, murky emotional sludge. At this point in time, Harry lets out a little bit of his inner wiseacre, he has a shred of self-confidence, and has hope for the future. He is still believing he can fight and win against his demons, including the bottle. God bless him.
Here is another thing that, after having read three of Nesbo's books, I can tell you that you must know. There is a 99% chance you are not going to figure this stuff out. We've got so many layers. So many bad men and women, running around with different agendas, but all intersecting. You (and Harry) think one murder is solved. But no, psyche! You both were wrong and you must keep looking, keep asking questions. It is maddening! In a good way of course.
Although I know Harry has found love with Rakel, and that is lovely, what I'm really enjoying is his friendship with Beatte. Beatte to me is a fascinating character, who may have a tiny bit of Lisbeth Salander in her, but maybe a little less angsty. She is smart, she has special talents, she is quiet and anti-social, and she understands Harry. I have high hopes for her in future installments.
Speaking of which, I am on a long wait list for The Snowman on audio. I have yet to listen to a Harry Hole novel on audio. Stay tuned...
4.5 out of 5 stars
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When my Skype book club suggested this book for August, I thought OK why not. It's about Alzheimer's. My grandmother had the disease, and it is something I am convinced will be my Fatal Affliction, considering the thousand things that slip my mind in the period of a day.
Well that should teach me a lesson for generalizing. This was NOT about Alzheimer's, nor about Alice Liddell. It was a breathtakingly beautiful, compulsively readable Amy Einhorn (gah! but of course) work of fiction that grabbed my heart and squeezed.
Synopsis: Alice Love finds herself lying on the floor of her gym after falling off her bicycle in spin class and hitting her head. She doesn't feel that injured, except she remembers absolutely nothing from the last ten years. Not the birth of her three children, not her best friend Gina, not the deterioration of her once idyllic marriage. Her mother has remarried, her beloved sister seems distant, her kids are loud aliens. And she is bone thin, with muscles!
As Alice hesitantly tries to navigate through a foreign life, she discovers she doesn't exactly like the other Alice. She innocently asks questions, and tries to get to the bottom of all the problems that weren't present ten years ago. The kinder, gentler, 29 year-old Alice, without yet the baggage life has dealt her, wants things to be right again with her friends, family and husband. Perceiving undercurrents from the other Alice's social circle, she begins to suspect that the recovery of her memory hinges on solving the cloud of mystery that surrounds her BFF and neighbor Gina.
My thoughts: This book seemed to find my soft spot and make itself at home. I love many books in a year's time, but not all of them seem so familiar as this one did. So what was the hook?
First, the book was just very well-written and at the same time conversational. It flowed, which kept me turning the pages and fighting the urge to stop reading at all hours.
But I think most of all, it was the topics addressed, and the thought-provoking questions it asks the reader. How much of our identities rely upon having children? What if you physically cannot have children? Do you lose yourself then? Do you hate the "breeders"? At what expense do you keep trying to have a baby? I've been there, so I really felt Alice's sister's pain. And what if you do have kids? What impact does that hectic schedule have on your relationships? Do you wish you could culture your friendships but you just don't have the time? What about your marriage? Is your love for your spouse holding up to life's distractions? As you grow older, do you lose your sense of humor? It certainly made ME take a step back and wonder how I'd view the current Sandy versus the younger Sandy.
The story is creatively told from three points of view. One is from Alice herself. One is from Alice's sister Elizabeth, in a journal written for her therapist. And one is from Alice and Elizabeth's grandmother, in her unsent letters to her fiance who died 60 years prior. Great perspectives, all focused on Alice's predicament but also their own. Through all three women, we are able to understand the world 29 year-old Alice lived in, and grieve for the one she cultivated over the next ten years.
I realize I can get on my soapbox and complain about endings. Too predictable, too wrapped up, not wrapped up enough, whatever. But at about 95%, I started muttering to myself that if Moriarty doesn't end it the way I want, I would throw a fit. Thank you Liane, you left me with a peaceful heart.
5 out of 5 stars
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I read it in three and a half days. It was that good. So what can I say here that won't spoil it for the uninitiated but still communicate its brilliance?
Synopsis: The year is 2048, and at Oxford University, it is commonplace that historians time travel back to years of their expertise to get first-hand knowledge. Decades are graded by level of danger, and obviously only the highly experienced are allowed to journey to times of war and plague. It is a fascinating world, not so different from our own, where an entire field of study provides for students to learn about ancient languages, behaviors and style of dress, complemented with the supporting technology to make travel to the fifteenth century akin to a trip to another country.
When professor Dunworthy discovers that his prized pupil, Kivrin, was allowed to travel back to the middle ages unescorted, without the usual tests and precautions, he becomes concerned for her welfare. Then a deadly epidemic is unleashed in the modern world, and Dunworthy not only worries if this will prevent Kivrin's return, but fears something went very wrong with her trip in general.
The story is told by both Dunworthy, in the modern world, where all hell is breaking loose, and by Kivrin, who has found herself in a small village, surrounded by poor townsfolk, disease and humanity. Separated by 700 years, teacher and student both experience the same greed, cowardice, acts of kindness, and the resilience of the human spirit.
My thoughts: Well, everything they said was true. This is a one-of-a-kind read that will never lose its appeal (even after 2048!). The plot was gripping and tight, to the point where I never wanted to put the Kindle down. My heart was racing, I cried, I smiled.
Speaking of smiling, that was one thing that really surprised me about this book. Amidst death and destruction, this book was FUNNY! Yes there was an epidemic going on in the current day, but there was also a stranded band of American bell ringers, an obnoxious over-protective mother of a womanizing student, and a precocious nephew of a professor that was into everything (reminded me alot of my son). They were an absolute delight. Even the characters in the 1300' s were precious...a boisterous five year-old girl, a devoted priest, a plucky teenaged girl betrothed to a middle-aged sloth. I'm not sure if I have ever loved a set of characters this much.
For those that may be turned off by the sci-fi edge to this novel, I would encourage you to abandon your pre-conceptions in this instance. This is not a geeky, techy Star Trek thing (not that there is anything wrong with that, lest I offend you!). This story has universal appeal, with something for everyone.
This is one of those cases where I am glad I have the book on my Kindle. I shall be reading it again!
5 out of 5 stars
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Synopsis: Priya, a successful young woman, is returning to her family in India for the first time after having lived in the US for seven years. Her goal in the reunion is to inform her parents that she is engaged to an American man. Her parents' goal in the reunion is to arrange a proper Indian marriage for their wayward daughter.
Priya approaches her visit with ice cold fear. In the world of her very traditional parents and grandparents, one must marry within their religion and caste, preferably in their early twenties. Anything else is cause for disownment. While Priya recognizes that her family can be fiercely prejudice, she also loves them dearly and is terrified she will be forced to choose between them and the man she loves.
She arrives in the heart of mango season, when her extended family gets together to make mango pickle en mass, while they fight, gossip, and plan their children's lives. It is in this environment that we learn about the Indian culture and views towards marriage, women, proper courtship behavior, the importance of carrying on the family name, and the resistance to change.
My thoughts: This book was a very quick read, and was written in a very conversational prose, first person from Priya's point of view. I was drawn in from the very beginning and finished it in about a day with ease.
For a number of years, I worked for a boss who was a Sikh, and I know fully well how he felt about caste and marriage and women, and he had exposed all of us to his food and culture. Even with that experience under my belt, I still learned a great deal about the Indian culture. Some of it was fascinating, some of it was shocking, but if I can walk away from a book knowing more than when I started, I consider it in some form a success.
This novel revolved a great deal around food. The book includes recipes as well as very colorful descriptions about flavors and aroma and textures. It acknowledges the distinct connection between memory and food and emotions.
But I was also repelled by the behaviors of Priya's family. They were mean-spirited towards a woman who had married into the family and was not their caste. They bullied another woman to continue having children until a son was born. They picked on one woman who was less than beautiful, past acceptable age, and had not yet found a match. There was histrionics, bickering, badgering, and frankly some of it made my stomach and head hurt. I realize every family has its issues, but I was saddened to think that women are still treated this way. I had a hard time liking these people. I was proud that Priya stood up for herself and the other brow-beaten women in the family, and I do realize they sorta all came around in the end, but I couldn't forgive them for their mental abuses.
I also had to shake my head at what I would consider to be a cheap trick in the form of a twist near the end of the book. I actually laughed out loud, but not a happy laugh. I thought it was contrived and cheesy. I don't mind that this "twist" wasn't resolved at the end of the book...in fact my mood was better off for it. I couldn't take more family fit-throwing.
So where did that leave me? Right smack on the fence. There is much to admire and appreciate in the story, if you don't mind the drama.
3 out of 5 stars
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So probably 80% of the reading world already knows this. The joke was on me. This amazing journey into Ethiopia's history, into twin-ness, into the human side of medicine, will most definitely be among my "best of" lists at the end of the year.
Synopsis: The lives of Sister Marie Joseph Praise, a devout missionary nun, and Thomas Stone, a quirky but enigmatic young doctor, intersect at Missing Hospital in a poor town in Ethiopia. Their destinies intertwined, they form a deep bond through the rigors of surgery as doctor and assistant. To everyone's surprise, one day Sister Praise goes into labor, and dies giving birth to conjoined twins, Marion and Shiva. Stone panics and disappears, leaving the boys effectively orphaned. Their stories are told in first person by Marion.
Two Indian doctors at Missing decide to marry and raise the boys as their own. Spanning decades, we witness Ethiopia's tumultuous history, the havoc it wreaks on the boys' lives, the medical challenges in a poor, third-world country, the notion of being predestined for a life in medicine, and the loving and sometimes violent community in which the boys are raised.
"A childhood in Missing imparted lessons about resilience, about fortitude, and about the fragility of life. I knew better than most children how little separated the world of health from that of disease, living flesh from the icy touch of the dead, the solid ground from treacherous bog."
When adolescent emotions cause a division between the twins, it is only when Marion becomes a surgeon himself and moves to New York that the strength of the boys' bonds are truly tested.
"Only the telling can heal the rift that separates my brother and me. Yes, I have infinite faith in the craft of surgery, but no surgeon can heal the kind of wound that divides two brothers. Where silk and steel fail, story must succeed."
My thoughts: With grace and restrained passion, Verghese has created an epic story that very quickly swept me off my feet. Because of the first-person narrative from Marion, it immediately felt personal and intimate. Marion was a young man with heart and compassion, who admitted to his own inadequacies and fears, and it was impossible for me not to love him and everyone whom he loved in turn. The characterization, through Marion's eyes, was brilliant.
Knowing that Verghese was an accomplished physician himself, I went into the experience worrying that the prose might be too technical or too rigid. Instead, it was beautiful and refined, at times even breath-taking. (I know that sounds a little over-dramatic but it was.) Verghese used his medical knowledge to lend an air of authenticity to the dialogue, but never did it alienate me or make me feel lost or stupid. I really have never had an interest in cutting people open and repairing an intestine or transplanting a liver, but in this story I lived the miracle of saving lives, of attending the sick by listening and caring, and made a tiny part of me wish I could try.
Without being too mushy (no Disney endings here), this book had one of the biggest hearts you could find in modern fiction. A heart full of compassion, forgiveness, commitment, human spirit and love for mankind.
Reactions from the Heathrow Literary Society: Unanimously my book club loved this book with all of their being. One member called it a "masterpiece". Another, an accomplished reader, called it a book that would be in his top ten of all time. This type of reaction rarely happens (only once with "The Book Thief") and is a testament to the universality of this beautiful novel.
5 out of 5 stars
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Synopsis: Alice is a new mom, having recovered from a long labor and C-Section two weeks prior. She's been married for a couple of years and lives with her husband at her wealthy mother-in-law's estate. She ventures out for the first time since Baby Florence's birth to run errands, but when she returns, she finds the front door open, her husband asleep, and the baby in the crib to be one she doesn't recognize. Her husband's attitude abruptly turns vindictive and sinister, and she is accused of being a liar. Nobody believes Alice, fearing she is just suffering from post-partum depression. A week later, Alice and the baby disappear.
Detective Constable Simon Waterhouse and his snappy female boss Detective Sergeant Charlie Zailer are assigned to both cases. Simon is known for his sharp investigative mind, but this time, his skills are in doubt when the department suspects he has gone soft for Alice. The relationship between the two police officers are complicated and personal, which inspires jealousy and a lack of professionalism needed for an effective investigation. As facts begin to surface about the murder of Alice's husband's previous wife, and his controlling mother, Simon fears Alice may have suffered the same fate.
In a narrative alternating between Alice before her disappearance, and Simon after her disappearance, we approach this mystery from the inside-out and from the outside-in. What is real, what is an illusion, and are there any innocent parties here? Fasten those seat-belts. You are in for a twisty ride.
My thoughts: For a literary mystery thriller, this book was solid. You are immediately swept into the horror...a kidnapped baby replaced with a similar-looking one, but nobody believes the over-anxious mother. Why would someone swap a baby? How did it happen right under the father's nose? Instant and violent emotion between husband and wife. Guilt, blame, anger, doubt. A father-mother scenario that resembles Norman Bates and his mama. The whole thing was stomach-turning as well as page-turning.
Equally as intriguing was the mess of egos and emotions between Simon and Charlie. Each have personal issues with themselves and each other, and the tangled quagmire created a juicy side-plot...one that the reader wants to see resolved.
There are respectable twists, there is murder most foul, there are several levels and categories of evil at work. It was a tense read from beginning to finish. However (and I'm being intentionally vague here for spoiler purposes) I felt that the ending was a complete and total rip-off. I felt I had been lied to and that my trust had been betrayed. I was angry for awhile. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had been taken for a ride.
I know your burning question really is...is Sophie Hannah comparable to Tana French? Let me just settle this right now. No. Tana French is a master at characterization and interpersonal relationships, and in no way did this story measure up in that department. Although there was a "connection" between Alice and Simon, it never went past a superficial level from my point of view. And while Simon and Charlie's relationship was complicated and messy, I never felt heat and sparks and angst flying off the pages like I do when I read French. Her stuff is palpable.
Will I continue to read Hannah? Yes, probably, but I will read warily. French's superb talent aside, Hannah is still a strong contender in the literary mystery thriller genre. She has just better not pull the rug out from under me again.
Thoughts from Books, Babes and Bordeaux: Emotions in our group ranged from skepticism to anger. We all agreed it was a very quick read, but many felt there were things about the characters' behavior that just didn't add up. As far as book club discussion, though, it was lively. At one point we were all talking really fast and really loud at the same time. We realized the last time we'd done that was when we talked about Henrietta Lacks, so in that sense, it was a successful evening (that and Heather's chocolate chip banana bread!).
3.5 out of 5 stars
Sometimes the patterns that you start to see in your reading and real lives become eerily synchronized. You begin to feel that the moons are aligned, or there is some alien up there playing with their version of a Rubik's cube, and your face is on one of the squares. Take, for example, this book, "The Postmistress". I got REALLY pumped about its release about a year ago, bought it on my Kindle on THE day it published, and it sat there until I was invited by Lisa to review it on the TLC Blog Tour. This situation may not sound familiar to you, but this is almost exactly what happened with The Lotus Eaters, which, after all that waiting, became a five star read for me in 2010. There has got to be a lesson in all of this somewhere.
But not only are the circumstances of reading the books the same, but both novels are about strong women coping during a time of war. Both books even feature a female journalist. And ultimately, I loved both books immensely. Here is a little about "The Postmistress":
Synopsis: 1939, three women, one war, one man. In London, Frankie Bard is a young, feisty radio journalist who is determined to tell the world what is happening...the bombs, the death, the Jewish refugees, the randomness. Across the ocean, in a small seaside town in Massachusetts, Iris James, a middle-aged postmaster, watches over her town, and all information about this threatening war, the letters and telegrams, passes through her hands to the townsfolk. Emma Fitch, a young bride, visits the post office daily to hear word from her new husband, a doctor that joined the efforts in London after tragically losing a patient here at home. All three women are linked together by the invisible common thread of Dr. Fitch, Emma's husband. Little do they know that Dr. Fitch will cause each woman to question their faith, their morals, the meaning of war, and their reason for being.
Surrounding these women are a very diverse, complex cast of characters. A widower with five small children, a quiet Austrian Jew who pines for his missing wife, a mechanic who finds love with Iris late in life, a little boy who lost his mother in a London bombing, and a myriad of refugees whose recorded voices tell the story of their lives.
My thoughts: Even though I initially bought this book with high expectations in February 2010, the subsequent reviews were mixed and my interest waned. A year has passed, and I went into this read with my heart a blank slate. Granted, I will admit to having a bit of an obsession with war novels, particularly WWII, so there's that. But I was unprepared for the flood of emotion that filled me while reading this book. It swept me away, and I ended up reading this book in only about two days. (I drug my Kindle around with me like a security blanket...in the car on the way to church, at a football game, by the stove while I was cooking, while I was waiting to pick up the kids. It received preference over my iPod, and that is a huge statement for me.)
Each of the women had very distinct characters, each likable but flawed. Frankie spoke the loudest to me...full of that kickass mentality you must have to exist in a man's world, but ultimately affected by the horrors of war, and desperate to do something to make a difference. All of the women, though, made choices as a form of mental survival that were contradictions against their best instincts. And I didn't blame them.
The images drawn by Blake, scenes of bravery and loss, as seen by Frankie in her European travels, are something that will stay with me for a long time. Very brief but vivid, graphic scenes, human stories from men, women and children who probably didn't live out the day...they made an imprint on my heart. It drove home the point that we often don't get to see what happens to the people with whom we cross paths. Did they live, or die, did they someday become reunited, did they reach their destination? We never know, and this is what haunts Frankie and drives her to take the actions that she did.
Halfway through the book, I began to question the title of the book. "The Postmistress" would imply that the book centers around Iris and her post office in America. And a piece of the story does hinge around her. But the bulk of the plot rested heavily on Frankie's shoulders, and that is when it dawned on me like a slap upside the head. Frankie IS the postmistress, and it is her that is narrating at the very beginning of the book. (If you've read the book, are you now saying "Duh"? Maybe I'm slow. Don't laugh!) I love it when I have these epiphanies and all the pieces come together.
So yet again, another book, languishing for months on my (virtual) shelf, only brought to the forefront by the nudging of Lisa at TLC, rocks my world. (And yes, of course, it IS an Amy Einhorn imprint.) Put this one on your must list.
5 out of 5 stars
Months ago I downloaded "The Yellow Wallpaper" on my Kindle at the suggestion of Nymeth @ Things Mean Alot. It sounded creepy and gothic, and is often mentioned in the same breath as "Affinity" by Sarah Waters. What more do I need to hear? (Honestly, I have considered having a reading challenge one of these years, where I read everything Nymeth reads. She has amazing, eclectic taste and I trust her implicitly!) So I was stuck somewhere recently without a book, and decided that was a perfect time to pull up this short story on my phone.
Synopsis: First published in 1892 in The New England Magazine, we meet a young woman via her first-person journal. She has been diagnosed by her doctor husband as having a "temporary nervous depression - a slight hysterical tendency", and has been confined to a room at a country rental estate over the summer to rest. Her husband believes that any use of creativity aggravates her condition, so she must sneak to write in her journal.
What begins with a mild annoyance with the ugly yellow wallpaper in her room turns into a descent into total madness. She imagines she sees a woman creeping around behind the pattern of the wallpaper trying to escape, and soon enough, the woman is not only in the wallpaper, but outside in the bushes. She begins to tear at the wallpaper, trying to break the woman free.
While the story is very short, it effectively addresses some serious issues, such as the treatment of women in the late 1800's - their oppression, the minimizing and mistreatment of their emotional issues, and their inability to help themselves. The journal entries also deftly record, first-hand, the deterioration of the mind.
My thoughts: Ah, the delicious fun of an unreliable narrator! And this one has such a personality. The protagonist is an innocent, and is compelled to trust her husband's judgement. Still, she is curious, and has a mind of her own underneath all that smoke her husband is blowing up her butt. I found myself being both tickled at her moxie, and frustrated at her lack of proper medical care for a condition I suspect was a form of post-partum depression. As the story progressed, my smirk over the protagonist's antics slowly morphed into a realization that deep down inside, our narrator was desperately sad, and a sick feeling that things were not going to end happily for this woman.
Adding another layer to this story is the history of the author. Apparently, she was inspired to write this story after her personal experience with mental illness. She was assigned a rest cure for her issues, but ultimately rebelled against the diagnosis and her own confinement. Charlotte Perkins Gilman, you rock girl.
For a thoroughly entertaining, but ultimately disturbing and unsettling hour or two of reading, you should definitely give this one your consideration. I doubt it will be one you will soon forget.
4.5 out of 5 stars
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