Tag Archives: coming-of-age

The Haunting of Moscow House by Olesya Salnikova Gilmore

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Irina calls her fanciful whenever she mentions ghosts. Still, something isn’t right about the house, hasn’t been right since Uncle Pasha was shot dead there three years before, and Grand-père Sergei succumbed to his illness mere days after.
Though she’s never seen one, Lili has believed in ghosts for quite a long time.
Do you think the dead can rise? Her voice, from a long-forgotten memory.
Of course, Nicky had answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

…with each death, the spirits are more corporeal and alive. And the family is in greater danger.

It is 1921, and the suffering is not yet done. World War I, then the ongoing civil war, now famine. Bolsheviks have taken charge. They use the Cheka to enforce the new norms, inflict the governing biases, and relentlessly add to the general misery. The displaced aristocracy struggles to get by, well, those who were not summarily shot.

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Olesya Salnikova Gilmore – Image from PRH – credit Nicola Levine Photography

To the new Soviet republic, the Bolsheviks, and the Cheka secret police, they are still countesses Irina and Liliya Goliteva, the people’s class enemy as descendants of one of the greatest and most ancient aristocratic clans of an imperial Russia dead and buried. Like most of their family. But unlike many former people, Irina’s family didn’t flee Russia. They stayed in hope of a return to normalcy. Now it is too late. Even if they could obtain papers, how could a household of women and children brave the danger of travel and exile?

Running out of household valuables to sell, the sisters take jobs with the American Relief Administration (ARA). The ARA is there to provide aid, food in particular. The sisters are managing the challenges, but there is something else. It appears that there are strange, spectral things going on in their home, the once-grand Moscow House. There are sounds, scents, footsteps, the sorts of things one can expect in a gothic novel.

So much of the novel is inspired by some of my favorite gothic stories, particularly by the Russian/Slavic gothic genre and the Ukrainian author who arguably founded it—Nikolai Gogol. – from the Afterward

Gogol and other folk sources are given plenty of recognition in the pages, allowing one the opportunity to do some digging and appreciate the inspirations.

We follow Irina (28) and her sister, Lili (18), as they try to survive through this trying period. Chapters alternate, more or less, between the two. The gothic elements build, from a few inklings to full-blown. It is not just one or two spectres turning up, but a whole host of late family members. The house is commandeered by the government, and the actual family is relegated to the attic. That does not work out well for the occupiers, as one then another is found dead. The work of one of the living inhabitants or ghostly revenge?

There are certainly some creepy bits, a norm for the genre, a few jump-cut scenes, and a spooky soothsayer. But is it scary? Mostly not, for me, (a particularly high bar) although there were some welcome surprises. There is one particular sort of ghost from Russian lore that was a new one on me. A creepy doll offers a tingle or two. That they grow in corporeality with each new death offered a welcome bit of unease. After a while, though, one gets used to the spirits, and in doing so their impact is reduced. Yeah, we’ve got a haunted house. So? The sisters keep coming and going as if it were infested with a more usual sort of pest.

Both become involved in romances, one with a Yank, the other with a childhood sweetheart. This is lovely, particularly in offering the possibility of positive outcomes for the sibs. Of course, it also adds to the ongoing tension between staying to preserve the family history and line, and fighting the good fight, or leaving to preserve their lives. How many people today are faced with comparable choices?

In fairy tales, paupers became princesses, not the other way around. But Soviet Russia is a warped Wonderland, where all is topsy-turvy and not what it should be.

One might, I expect, consider a take in which the Cheka taking charge in Moscow is a lot like the spectres taking over the Moscow House. It does cause one to recall that the Introduction of The Communist Manifesto begins, “A spectre is haunting Europe—the spectre of communism.” Certainly those spooks have landed in Russia and, through bloodshed, are gaining in strength. I have no idea if this was at all on Gilmore’s mind. But maybe. Spectres within and spectres without? Maybe a bit of dialectical materialism (or dialectical immaterialism?) for good measure?

Overall. I enjoyed The Haunting of Moscow House, particularly for the portrait of the time (The ARA was a real non-profit), the depiction of the desperation among Muscovites, and exposure to some unfamiliar gothic Slavic writing and lore. The sisters are engaging. The tension is palpable, and the spook infestation is fun.

I suppose one cannot help but compare this to Gilmore’s freshman offering, The Witch and the Tsar. That one was less reality based, more fantastical, and a bit more fun. But this one is also quite good, rich with extras both historical and literary.

Irina is crossing into the next room when she feels a prickle of cold on her arm. A draft of air. But the damask curtains are sealed tight. No, it is as if someone has moved past her. She turns sharply, as fearful as the other morning. Odd. She has never been afraid in the house. She doesn’t have Lili’s active imagination. Nor is she given over to delusions. It is only the howl and tear of the wind, the rattle of the windows in their casements, the faint give of a latch. With all this noise, she almost doesn’t hear it.
The creak of parquet, somewhere near. And again, unmistakable now. Creak. Creeeaak.
Footsteps. Small, like a child’s.
Irina backs up with wide eyes—when there is a deep growl. Then an earsplitting screech, and a dark shape hurtles across her path. A glint of red, as if red eyes have snapped to hers. The next second, scuffling and the thumping of bare feet, then nothing.
What was that? Some animal, trapped in the house?
That’s when the air implodes all around her.

Review posted – 12/20/24

Publication date – 9/3/24

I received an ARE of The Haunting of Moscow House from Berkley in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks, (Does it feel unnaturally cold to you here?) and thanks to NetGalley for facilitating.

This review is cross-posted on Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

=======================================EXTRA STUFF

Links to Gilmore’s personal, FB, Instagram, and Twitter pages

Profile – from her site
Olesya Salnikova Gilmore is the author of The Witch and the Tsar and The Haunting of Moscow House. Originally from Moscow, she was raised in the US and graduated from Pepperdine University with a BA in English/political science, and from Northwestern School of Law with a JD. She practiced litigation at a large law firm for several years before pursuing her dream of becoming an author. Now she is happiest writing speculative historical fiction inspired by Eastern European history and folklore. Her work has appeared in LitHub, Tor.com, CrimeReads, Writer’s Digest, Historical Novels Review, Bookish, Washington Independent Review of Books, among others. She lives in a wooded, lakeside suburb of Chicago with her husband and daughter.

Interviews
—–JeanBookNerd – Olesya Salnikova Gilmore Interview – The Haunting of Moscow House
—–Turn the Page – Episode 314E: Olesya Salnikova Gilmore on THE HAUNTING OF MOSCOW HOUSE – audio – 24:17
—–How Do You Write – Ep. 358: POV Hack: Using Method Acting with Olesya Salnikova Gilmore video – 31:09 – with Rachel Herron (from 5:36) – mostly about her prior novel, but offers a nice sense of the author, her process, how she uses method acting and her lawyerly background

My review of Gilmore’s prior book
—–2022 – The Witch and the Tsar

Items of Interest from the author
—–Crimereads – GOTHIC FICTION WITH A TWIST
—–Writer’s Digest – Finding Magic at the Intersection of Reality and Fantasy in Fiction
—–Reactor – Five Books about Haunted Houses that Crumble

Items of Interest
—–Carol’s Notebook – The Shroud – a Russian fairy tale referenced in Chapter 3
—–Story Telling Institute – Vasilia the Beautiful – a Russian fairy tale referenced in Chapter 11

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Filed under Fantasy, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction

The Mighty Red by Louise Erdrich

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The absence of birds made Diz uneasy, but he wasn’t spraying birds, was he? Yet there were fewer birds around his farm. Used to be robins hunting worms in the furrows. Used to be blackbirds around the green bins. Owls at dawn, rats in their claws. Well, maybe he had a sudden thought those could have been the rats and mice he had to poison. He thought back to how birds used to chatter as the sun rose. Now, a few sparrows, maybe, or more often just the hiss and boom of wind.

While working in her garden, Crystal appreciated how their families were like the Lord’s ivy, a weed ineradicable by human means. It grows low to the ground and can’t be mowed. It throws its stems long and roots straight down every few inches, just like the people along the river. There seems to be a Frechette or a Poe anywhere you land, but low-key, invisible. The Lord’s ivy, or ground ivy, creeping charlie, thrives under the leaves of other plants and goes wherever it is not wanted. It just keeps throwing itself along stem by stem and blooms so modestly you’d hardly mark the tiny purple flowers. People step down and pass, the weed springs up, uncrushable.

But, implanted or not, there is plenty of stress to go around.

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Louise Erdrich in front of her Minneapolis bookstore – image from The Paris Review – shot by Angela Erdrich

Romantic stress
The core of the novel is an ill-considered relationship. Kismet and Gary are teenagers, rich with hormones and needs. But are they ready to be married? She had planned to go to college. Gary is the star quarterback, but has a need for Kismet that has nothing to do with their romance. And then there is Hugo, brilliant, ambitious, and totally in love with her, (… he closed his eyes and thought about how he was helpless in the tractor beam of love.) centering his life on making himself successful enough to woo her away from Gary. Coming of age is a major element, and is wonderfully portrayed. Erdrich says in the B&N interview that she had really wanted to write a love triangle. Well, among other things. She also wanted to write about …

Financial stress

I really set it in 2008…because I don’t feel our country has ever really dealt with the fallout from 2008. I feel like there was so much that there was so much loss, that people lost homes, people lost jobs, things hollowed out in such a big way and that was never really addressed. We never really came back from that time, 2008, 2009 into the present, because the pandemic happened. – from the B&N interview

Winnie Geist lived through the Reagan era in which her family’s farm was lost, sold for a fraction of its worth. David Stockman is name-dropped from the 1980s.

While she was in high school, the government accelerated her family’s loan payments and blow after blow had landed. They’d lost their home, their farm, everything. Except one another, they kept saying, except us.

Crystal Poe is Kismet’s mother. When ne’er-do-well-actor dad, Martin, goes walkabout, Crystal has to sell off possessions to keep afloat.

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Erdrich would like to see Irene Bedard as Crystal – from the Hoda & Jenna interview – image from Wikipedia

Ecological stress
Connection to the land is always a feature of Louise Erdrich’s work. The Lord’s ivy quote at the top reflects the root of this. Winnie’s angst at the loss of her family farm offers another. There are multiple instances of characters expressing, and acting on, (or not) concerns for the well-being of the ground on which they live and work. It is the treatment of the land that gets the most attention, the tension between using chemical-based products to maximize production per acre, versus a less corporate approach that supports a more ecologically balanced, restorative brand of farming.

I don’t think about politics when I write. I think about the characters and the narrative. My novels aren’t op-eds. Nobody reads a book unless the characters are powerful—bad or good or hopelessly ordinary. They have to have magnetism. If you write your characters to fit your politics, generally you get a boring story. If you let the people and the settings in the book come first, there’s a better chance that you can write a book shaped by politics that maybe people want to read. – from the Paris Review interview

Parental stress
Erdrich has four daughters, so has had plenty of experience with mother-child interactions. She says she loved being the mother of teens, seeing the excitement of their choices, and trying to be more of a guide than a hard-liner. Crystal struggles to influence Kismet without coming on too strong, which would predictably result in increased resistance. Gary’s mother clearly loves him, and goes out of her way to see to her baby’s happiness, maybe too far out of her way. Crystal and Winnie are definitely both afraid for their children, although for very different reasons.

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Erdrich would like to see Isabella LeBlanc as Kismet – from the Hoda & Jenna interview – image from Minnesota Native News

A bit of fun
There is a series of flamboyant crimes committed by an outlaw, who acquires a nickname and a fair bit of public fame, in the same way that notorious historical criminals like Billy the Kid drew public interest and admiration.

This book is set during the economic collapse of 2008–09. What Martin does is only what a lot of people wanted to do. I didn’t think of what he did as villainy, but yes, I suppose it was absolutely crazy, and, you know, fun to write. I have to amuse myself. – from the Bookpage interview

There was more that motivated Erdrich. She is from the Red River Valley of North Dakota, has much family in the area and returns frequently. She wanted to write about the changes she had seen there. (like the mighty Red, history was a flood.) One element of this was that her first job was hauling sugar beets. The industry was undeveloped at the time. She wanted to write about how it had evolved over the last thirty years. The original title of the novel was Crystal.

When I started it I thought I would be writing about the 2011 lockout by Crystal Sugar and how it impacted people who were working there. They lost a lot in terms of their insurance and their benefits and wages…it was a really tough lockout. I wanted to write about that at first, but then I started writing something else entirely and I enjoyed writing it more so I kept with that one and it became more about a number of people living along the river. – from the B&N interview

Many of Louise Erdrich’s novels (this is her nineteenth) have centered on Native American history, lore, and contemporary experience. While there are several characters here whose Native roots are noted, this is not really a book about the Native experience, the way that The Round House, LaRose, The Night Watchman, and others are.

Magical realism remains a sharp tool in Erdrich’s kit. Crystal listens to a late-night radio show that centers on strangeness, including angels. A caller wonders if her child is protected by a guardian angel, given the number of close calls they had had. One character is haunted by the ghost of a friend. The aroma of a used dress speaks to its new owner. One character has a presentiment about an imminent danger.

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Erdrich would like to see Brett Kelly as Hugo – from the Hoda & Jenna interview – image from Alchetron

There is a mystery here as well. what happened at “the party” and why is it such a hush-hush subject? Something terrible is hinted at. There are ripples emanating from this event that inform multiple character arcs.

There are a few literary references applied here. Madame Bovary is one. If you know the story, the echoes will boom at you. If not, it is no trick to pull up an abstract. Ditto for Anna Karenina. (see EXTRA STUFF for links)

As with any work of fiction it requires that we relate, at least somewhat, to at least some of the characters. Erdrich has a gift for writing characters that, whatever they may do, we can appreciate their motives, even if we may not agree with their choices. This is a major strength of the novel. She crafts rounded humans, ambitious, frightened, rational, irrational, loving, thoughtful, feckless, smart in wildly divergent ways, and, ultimately, satisfying. She does this while incorporating a payload of ecological concern, relationship insight, and an appreciation of history’s impact on lived experience, while adding a layer of magic to aid our understanding, and including a few laughs to smooth the way. Louise Erdrich is a national treasure, a reliable source of quality literary fiction, and an ongoing delight to read. The Mighty Red is indeed a mighty read.

Review posted – 12/13/24

Publication dates
———-Hardcover – 10/1/24
———-Trade paperback – 11/04/25

I received an ARE of The Mighty Red from Harper (through my Book Goddess dealer) in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks, dear.

This review is cross-posted on Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

=======================================EXTRA STUFF

Interviews
—–*Barnes & Noble Book ClubLouise Erdrich discusses THE MIGHTY RED with Lexie Smyth and Jenna Seery – with Lexi Smyth and Jenna Seery – video 45:37 – This is the one you want to check out
—–Today with Hoda and Jenna – Author Louise Erdrich talks ‘The Mighty Red,’ takes fan questions
—–my link text
—–The Paris Review my link text
—–Book Page – Red is an earth tone by Alice Cary

Other Louise Erdrich novels I have reviewed
—–2021 – The Sentence
—–2020 – The Night Watchman
—–2017 – Future Home of the Living God
—–2016 – LaRose
—–2010 – Shadow Tag
—–2012 – The Round House
—–2008 – The Plague of Doves
—–2005 – The Painted Drum

Items of Interest
—–Project Gutenberg – Madame Bovary – full text
—–GetAbstract – of Madame Bovary
—–Project Gutenberg – Anna Karenina – full text
—–ReWire The West – Anna Karenina: Summary and Analysis
—–North Dakota State University – WHY IS THE RED RIVER OF THE NORTH SO VULNERABLE TO FLOODING?
—–MPR News – 20-month lockout over, sugar workers brace for return to work by Dan Gunderson

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Filed under Cli-Fi, Fiction, Literary Fiction

Goldenseal by Maria Hummel

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Falling into friendship, with Edith was also, for Lacey, inextricable, with falling in love with the northern summer. Never had she woken to birdsong, or plunged headfirst into cool water on a blazing day, or listened to the whispers of the oaks as a thunderstorm, swept in. Never had the sun felt so warm and golden, or rain soaked her so completely. The shrill of crickets, alarming at first, began to soothe her to sleep at night. A toad hunched by a log was so intensely ugly she cried out in shock, while a fox, slipping through the pines, looked like the tip of a paintbrush dipped in orange. Her hands and legs became tan and useful. She could tie three kinds of sailor knots, and she could kick her way up a river current. Her face in the spotty cabin mirror was freckled, it also looked rounder and full. She was gaining weight back, and when one night Edith observed, “You’re not coughing anymore,” Lacey realized it was true.

“When the stranger returned to the city…” are the opening words of Goldenseal, or could be of a fun Western. The description that follows is pure delight, set in 1990 Los Angeles, as Maria Hummel shows off her poet’s gift for description. In The Rumpus interview she talks about having to tone that element down to spend more focus on moving the story forward. A loss for the likes of me. Edith Holle left Lacey, and Los Angeles forty-four years ago. She is back now on a mission known only to herself.

I was interested in creating a novel that had an allegorical Western feel. The stranger comes back to this city for the first time in forty-four years; “the stranger comes to town.” That’s the beginning of the classic Western, and Westerns play an important role throughout the story, as both subject and backdrop, especially in regard to gender. Because in the classic Western, the “stranger” is male, right? But here, it’s Edith, an old woman in a wrinkled skirt and sneaker boots. – from The Rumpus interview

In addition to the western genre references, there is a mystery afoot here, well, a few. What was the nature of Edith’s connection to Lacey? Why did she leave? Why is she back?

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Maria Hummel – Image from her site

We get an up close look at Lacey’s discomfort, wondering what Edith is up to, stressing over what to wear, as if her sartorial selections might provide a layer of armor, but Lacey is also clearly dying to see her. Once the waiting is done, we get on with the bulk of the story. It is told in two time lines. First is an ongoing conversation between the two women, the frame. Second is the history they recount within it.

Lacey Crane was born in Prague, her parents fleeing before, but not because of, the future Nazi invasion. Middle class, they were able to experience success in the hotel business. We get a look at the impact of the Holocaust on her parents, particularly her Jewish mother. As girls, Lacey and Edith meet at a California camp, where Edith is a bit of a loner, the daughter of the camp caretaker, special for her talent at stage performance, among other things, but seen as too lower class for most of the privileged girls. Not for Lacey. They become instant besties. (see quote at top) Edith’s home life is challenging, and Lacey wants to take her away from all that.

We follow the development of their friendship, and of their lives, together and apart. It is events in adulthood that split them, a final, dramatic schism. Dirty laundry is pulled from their memory bags, and held up for close inspection. Some garments are left unaired.

The contemporary conversation functions as a way for them to both examine the lives they have led. It also illuminates some of the changes women experienced in the 20th century.

The novel germinated over a protracted period, until all the elements finally came together. First was the Biltmore. When she and her husband moved there in the early aughts, Hummel was smitten with the LA hotel culture, particularly that hotel.

[This] combined with a book that I read that came out in American translation in 2001 called Embers …originally published in 1942, is a story about two old friends, males, an old general and a soldier, meeting in a castle in the Carpathians for the first time in forty years. They’re also weighing out friendship. When I read that book, I thought, this is such a great treatise on friendship, but it’s about male friendship. Female friendship is different. Wouldn’t it be great to use this structure but set it in an American castle? There it is. Then the third piece was, as we all experienced, we lived like recluses, particularly for me, the academic year that was 2020/’21. I thought, I know how to write this character now, this person who’s basically a hermit who lives in the hotel and never goes out and is locked in her tower. – from the Moms Don’t Have Time to Read Books interview

Underneath it all is that primal bond, forged in childhood, hardened in adulthood but seriously damaged. We are waiting for the high noon moment when the women unholster their revelations and take aim.

The Lacey-Edith intersection is, in a way, where Old World meets New. Lacey having been born middle class in Europe. Edith living a much more frontier-type of existence in the American far west. Lacey is relatively well-to-do, while Edith is a bit of a Cinderella character, responsible beyond her years, kept as something of a household slave by an unfeeling parent. Maybe Lacey can fit her up with a glass slipper, get her a carriage ride to something better? There are medical remedies from both the Old World and the New that present the strengths of both cultures. Familial tragedies echo across the divide.

Do we care? Each girl faces challenges at home. And both are portrayed as decent kids, so it is not hard to feel for them. The tale of their early friendship is incredibly charming and engaging, a major strength of the novel. The bond between these two is palpable and we want it to be eternal. Each girl finds relief from her personal stresses in having someone with whom to share. We get glimpses of their time together later, as teens, but these are fleeting, and lack the immediacy and impact of their camp days. Their time as adults is also presented in brief glimpses, stroboscopic flashes of events. Sure, there is angst, pain, heartbreak, betrayal, and disappointment, but having stepped back from Lacey and Edith, the impact is dulled. It is not a bad thing to leave readers wanting more of a character but it seemed to me that we got a bit short-changed and should not have needed that much more.

The narrative flow works quite well, switching back and forth between the contemporary and historical. But in a latter section of the novel, the conversation became much less…conversational, transforming into almost straight up exposition. I found this distancing, and thus off-putting.

There is a lot going on in Goldenseal. Thematically, it offers a trove of genre touches, coming of age, mystery, western, domestic drama and probably others. Hummel writes beautiful descriptions. I wish there had been even more of that. She gets us to care about her leads. And offers a persuasive explanation at the end, for most questions. It is a good read for sure, but maybe a Silver Seal instead of a Golden One.

Review posted – 03/29/24

Publication date – 01/09/24

I received a hardcover copy of Goldenseal from Counterpoint in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks.

This review is cross-posted on Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

=======================================EXTRA STUFF

Links to Hummel’s personal and Twitter pages

Profile – from her website

Maria Hummel is a novelist and poet. Her books include Goldenseal, Lesson in Red, a follow-up to Still Lives, a Reese Witherspoon x Hello Sunshine pick, a Book of the Month Club pick, and BBC Culture Best Book of 2018; Motherland, a San Francisco Chronicle Book of the Year; and House and Fire, winner of the APR/Honickman Poetry Prize… Hummel worked for many years as an arts editor and journalist, and as a writer/editor for The Museum of Contemporary Art, experience that informed Still Lives and Lesson in Red. She also taught creative writing at Stanford University and Colorado College, and is now a full professor at the University of Vermont. She lives in Vermont with her husband and sons.

Interviews
—–The Mark Twain House & Museum Program – GOLDENSEAL with Maria Hummerl and Barbara Bourland by Omar Savedo – Video – 58:15
—–Moms Don’t Have Time to Read Books – Maria Hummel, Goldenseal by Zibby Owens
—–The Rumpus Friendship Sunset: A Conversation with Maria Hummel by Jenny Bartoy

Items of Interest from the author
—–Reading Group Guide
—–LitHub – The Shadow Self of Domestic Stories: A Reading List of Novels Set in Hotels

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Filed under Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction, Mystery

The Invisible Hour by Alice Hoffman

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in every fairy tale girl who is saved is the one who rescues herself.

people in love were such fools, they made up excuses, they wound up doing as they pleased no matter how much good advice they been given.

The Invisible Hour is a twice-told tale of a mother and a daughter.

Ivy Jacobs’ Beacon Hill family did not exactly treat it as a crimson-letter day when the sixteen-year-old informed her parents that she was pregnant by a feckless Harvard sophomore. Despite her tender years, Ivy wanted to see the pregnancy through and keep the baby. Decisions and plans were made, none of them involving input from Ivy. The newborn would be put up for adoption. Ivy bails, getting as far away as she can, which turns out to be a sort-of commune in western Massachusetts.

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Alice Hoffman – image from Penguin Random House – shot by Alyssa Peek

Mia Jacob is the daughter Ivy bore. We meet her at 15. Living in the place to which her mother had fled, The Community. More of a cult really, an authoritarian farm where the leader’s will is law. Joel Davis took Ivy in, married her soon after she’d arrived, so is Mia’s step-father. But child-rearing is communal here, so parenting is not what you or I would recognize. You will recognize the cult-leader, control-freak personality Joel wears like the headgear sported by the QAnon Shaman. Vanity is supposedly being punished, but it is accomplishment, growth, intelligence and independence that are the targets. He likes his followers unquestioning and compliant.

Ivy has stolen parenting moments over the years, so has had a hand in helping Mia find her true self, a young woman who is curious about the world, eager to learn, to investigate, to explore, to read. Discovery of her criminal reading marks her for punishment. When we meet Mia she is, as her mother was, a teen about to flee her oppressive environment.

Although we learn about and spend time with both women, it is Mia who is our primary focus. In a dark time, she considers suicide, but, fortuitously, reads a book that saves her, changing her life, giving her hope, The Scarlet Letter.

We follow her coming of age, assisted by her mother and an understanding librarian in the town where The Community sells their produce.

Her passion for Hawthorne is such that she finds in it a magical power. Alice Hoffman loves her some fairy tales, so it will come as no great shock that one fine day Mia finds herself transported back to the 19th century, and into the presence of her literary love object. Complications ensue. In those, however, we get a sense of Hawthorne, his personality, his material conditions, his family and friends, and his writing challenges. Nice looking fellah, too, to go with that oversized talent.

There is some wonderful imagery woven into the novel. The notion of invisibility is large among these. There are times in which it might be useful to go unseen, as in when one is doing something for which one might be punished, or which are simply secret. On the other hand, it is not so wonderful to be unseen in normal human interactions. Like “Yo, dude, human here. Whaddaya? Blind?” There is some literal invisibility as well.

Apples are a core element as well. There is a particular breed of apple grown in the area, which is no Eden. They seem less associated with The Fall than with a push. Joel uses leaves of that apple tree as a threat. One could certainly see his actions as serpentine. Mia even decides never to eat apples, given the associations she has for them with The Community. Howdaya like dem apples? Johnny Appleseed comes in for some attention, with plantings of his effort bearing local fruit.

The woods as a magical place gets a visit or two. Indeed, magical things go on there. Strange people and buildings appear. There is even one “Once upon a time” in the book. The Woods is where Mia goes to escape.

Much of the tension in the book centers around women taking control of their own lives. This happens in various ways. There is the usual disobedience one would expect, with the most daring taking the greatest risks. Reading figures large in this, as subservience is sustained under the lash of forced-ignorance. Reading is the gateway drug to independent thinking, and dreaming of better. Some women even learn herbal medicine, to see to their needs. The comparisons of the modern day with the repressive Puritan world depicted in The Scarlet Letter are clearly drawn. Plus ça change…

I think it’s a bad idea to write for the moment because the moment passes so quickly. The other thing about time is that what’s right and what’s good and what’s accepted suddenly becomes not. I thought about that with the way women were treated in “The Scarlet Letter,” the way that the Puritans blamed women, and they believed in original sin and that women were responsible for that because of Eve. It all changed, but then it changes back. And then it changes again. A lot of the things that women are coping with right now are not that different, really. The judgment against women. – from the Salon interview

There is a garden in town where all the plants are red. It may feel familiar to frequent readers of Hoffman.

This new book [The Invisible Hour] actually takes place in a town where I wrote a book of connecting stories about called The Red Garden, so it’s the same place. It’s just a novel that takes place in that town. – from the Salon interview

I consider myself an Alice Hoffman fan. While I have not read all her books, I have certainly read more than a couple. Any reader of her books knows that there are certain things one can expect. Among other things, there will be an engaging lead, facing difficult choices, and there will usually be bits, at least, of magic, often of a fairy tale sort. So, one cannot really gripe about a time-travel element pushing things too far, particularly when done in the service of giving us a closer look at a literary icon. My sole gripe is that I felt that the baddie was given too much magical license to pursue his dark ends.

Otherwise, despite it’s title, The Invisible Hours very much deserves to be seen. It offers not only an uplifting, engaging tale of empowerment, but an homage to one of the greats of American literature, and long-form praise of the power, the importance, the necessity of reading. I am sure we can all see the value in that.

“Q: Did you set out to write a novel so deeply rooted in women’s empowerment? How did it evolve to include time travel?”

“A: I started to think about The Scarlet Letter and how modern-day issues for women are not that foreign from issues in that time period. I’m not certain I realized when I first read Nathaniel Hawthorne’s great novel what the deeper meaning of his heroine’s situation is—she has no say over her body or her choices and yet, she does make her own choices. It’s a very brave book.
I’ve always wanted to time travel and been drawn to books about time travel. I think during the time of Covid, when I was writing this, more than ever I want it to be in another time period.”
– from A Conversation with Alice Hoffman, an appendix in the book

Review posted – 12/22/23

Publication date – 8/15/23

This review is cross-posted on my site, Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

=======================================EXTRA STUFF

Links to the author’s personal, Instagram and FB pages
Profile

Other Hoffman books I have reviewed:
—–1999 – Local Girls
—–2003 – Green Angel
—–2004 – Blackbird House
—–2005 – The Ice Queen
—–2011 – The Red Garden
—–2011 – The Dovekeepers
—–2017 – Faithful
—–2017 – The Rules of Magic
—–2019 – The World That We Knew

Interviews
—–Salon – “I want to believe”: Alice Hoffman is always seeking magic, practical and otherwise by Alison Stine
—–Shondaland – Alice Hoffman Talks Her Latest Novel, ‘The Invisible Hour’ by Sandra Ebejer
—–Harvard Review – An Interview with Alice Hoffman by Christina Thompson

Song
—–Agnes Obel – Brother Sparrow – relevance to the chapter title

Item of Interest from the author
—–Salon – Alice Hoffman: Five amazing tips to help you write your novel

Items of Interest
—–Wiki on Nathaniel Hawthorne
—–Wiki on Johnny Appleseed, mentioned multiple times
—–Gutenberg – full text of The Scarlet Letter
—–Good Will Hunting – Howdaya like dem apples?
—–Wiki on the QAnon Shaman

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Filed under Fantasy, Feminism, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction, Religion

The Bee Sting by Paul Murray

book cover

In the next town over, a man had killed his family. He’d nailed the doors shut so they couldn’t get out; the neighbours heard them running through the rooms, screaming for mercy. When he had finished he turned the gun on himself.
Everyone was talking about it – about what kind of man could do such a thing, about the secrets he must have had. Rumours swirled about affairs, addiction, hidden files on his computer.
Elaine just said she was surprised it didn’t happen more often.

For months now she has been having the same dream Of a flood that sweeps through the house Carries off clothes from the wardrobes Toys from the cupboards Food from the table In the dream she is trying to stop it She is wading around, pulling things out of the water But there’s too much to hold in her arms and it overcomes her The current grows stronger Pulls away the appliances the kitchen island tiles from the floor paint from the at the edge of the water watching her go Staring down as she’s swept past In their eyes she is old Her youth is gone too It has all been washed away by the water

The Barnes family is having their problems. It is 2014 in small-town Ireland. We follow Dickie, Imelda, his wife, PJ, their son, and Cass, a high school senior, through a range of travails. Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina opens with, Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. Guess which category the Barnes family fits into.

PJ is almost a teen, so will have a lot of growing-up to do, but he is faced already with challenges that are plenty daunting. Coping with bullies at school is no fun, if a particularly usual checklist item in coming-of-age stories. But he is also beset by the thug teen child of one of his father’s customers, who feels his family has been cheated by Dickie. Beatings happen, and more are promised if he does not pay up. And these are the lesser of the challenges he faces. On the upside, he likes spending time hanging out with his father, working on a project in the woods behind their house.

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Paul Murray – image from the Hindustan Times – shot by Lee Pelligrini

Cass has teen-angst aplenty, coping with her social status, her newly-ripening sexuality and her attraction to a promiscuous friend. She is trying to define who she is. (which is not exactly a wonderful person when we meet her.) A part of that is seeing herself as separate from her family. She would definitely not want to be associated with those people. She is particularly hostile to her father, blaming him for the demise of the family business, and the collateral social impact that is having on her. She is not a stunner like her mother, which does not help. The prospect of heading off to college in Dublin offers a concrete escape route, the sooner the better. She is besties, I guess, with Elaine, who is as amoral and unfeeling as she is beautiful.

Imelda came from a working-class family. Rough around the edges would be a kind description. But she was born a knockout. It was always going to be her ticket out. She falls in love with the town’s football superstar, Frank. They are to be wed. Frank stands to inherit a successful family business, and should be able to provide nicely for her. Problem is a literal crash and burn, and buh-bye Frank. She winds up marrying Frank’s older, smarter, but not-golden-boyish brother, Dickie.

Dickie had the brains for college, and attended, for a few years, until an unfortunate event derailed his collegiate career and he headed home. He may have been the smarter of the brothers, but Frank had the gift of salesmanship, and was a better fit to take over the car dealership. But when Frank dies, it falls to Dickie to step in. He manages, but it is not work he exactly loves.

These days, he is spending time in the woods behind their home, building a defense against Armageddon, spurred on by a troll-like employee who exhales conspiracy theories and seems to be looking forward to the coming end-times. He has a lot of time on his hands. The car-dealership is in the crapper. Along with plenty of other businesses, suffering not only from a global economic downturn, but massive flooding in the town. Dickie’s father, Maurice, retired, but still the owner, swoops in to try to fix things, blaming Dickie for the difficulties. Dickie is not entirely faultless here. But there are serious complications with him.

We follow these four for over six hundred pages, getting to know them intimately. We learn their secrets, see them change, see them cope with relentless stressors, see them grow, or not. This is the greatest power of the novel. Each is faced with decisions, moral choices, that define their character, that define their changes, maybe their failures. If that were all, it would be an outstanding piece of work, but Murray offers a very rich palette of content as well, raising it to another level.

There are many notions that run throughout The Bee Sting’s considerable girth. Space has been reserved to handle them all. The core, of course, is family. Not exactly the most functional, the Barnses. Parents who have been raised to hide their emotions have no natural ability to make a happy home.

You couldn’t protect the people you loved – that was the lesson of history, and it struck him therefore that to love someone meant to be opened up to a radically heightened level of suffering. He said I love you to his wife and it felt like a curse, an invitation to Fate to swerve a fuel truck head-on into her, to send a stray spark shooting from the fireplace to her dressing gown. He saw her screaming, her poor terrified face beneath his, as she writhed in flames on the living-room carpet. And the child too! Though she hadn’t yet been born, she was there too. All night he listened to her scream in his head – he couldn’t sleep from it, he just lay there and sobbed, because he knew he couldn’t protect her, couldn’t protect her enough…

On top of which, secrets abound. They are all trying to find a way out, except for PJ, who is mostly interested in seeing things returned to the way they were before the dealership miseries began, and radiated outward. Murray shows how dysfunction and damage can carry forward from one generation to the next, the brutality of Imelda’s family, the emotional absence of Dickie’s. But all has not been destroyed.

When Dad was fun everything was fun. Not just holidays, not just Christmas. Going to the supermarket! Cutting the grass! At bedtime they had pyjama races, they read Lord of the Rings cover to cover, they put a torch under their chins and told each other ghost stories…

Family connection is important, mostly in the desire of most to sever it. Dickie was desperate as a young man to get away, get an education, do something other than sell cars for the rest of his life. Imelda came from a toxic family (not all of them) and also struggles with her connection to the family she is in, for current-day part of the story. Cass wants out, ASAP. Tethers are cut, but some are also sewn. The tension between these struggles is fuel for the story.

Murray looks at the impact of the environment on peoples’ lives. The story is set at the tail end of the recession from the Celtic Tiger boom that had preceded. The economic environment was still pretty tough and we see how this impacts the family.

It will come as no shock that a major, unusual, flood impacts Dickie’s already sinking business, with talk of liquidation, that a water leak in the Barnes house carries omens, and that Imelda dreams of being washed away, as she is forced to cope with losing the luxury level lifestyle to which she thinks her incredible beauty entitles her. Cass’s collegiate prospects and social standing are endangered. Other players in the story are challenged as well. PJ is fast out-growing all his clothing, but does not want to be a burden on the now-struggling family, so keeps quiet and castigates his feet for growing too much. There is a stream involving the presence of gray squirrels in Ireland. They are an invasive species, as of a century back, and carry a disease that is fatal to the native red squirrels. Are they the only locals in danger of being wiped out?

Another stream is the notion of returning, coming back from the dead, in particular.

Some people might say that the key problem is with coming back from the dead specifically. Because obviously death is a pretty serious step with all kinds of long-term effects that you’re not going to just shake off. But lately you’ve noticed it with other things too, that even though they never actually died, when they came back from where they’d gone they were still completely changed.

Imelda keeps looking for the ghost of Frank to show up at her wedding to Dickie. Dickie is definitely not the same after returning from Dublin. Same for Cass and PJ. Other characters, a maid, a mechanic, a patriarch, return as well, with mixed results.

…is it worth taking the risk? Sometimes? If you could still sort of see the person they were and you thought maybe there was still enough time, if you knew what to do or say?

Bees get a bit of attention, if a bit less than expected. The bee sting of the title is inflicted on Imelda, on her way to her wedding to Dickie. Her face was in no condition to be seen, so every wedding picture of her is through her veil. There is another passage about the mating habits of bees. It does not end well for the males.

…the pesticide the farmers use on plants contains a neuro-toxin that destroys their memory so they forget their way home, can’t make it back to the hive where they live, and that’s why they’re dying out. When they looked in the hives they found them not full of dead bees, but mysteriously empty. Maybe that’s what happened to Cass, you think. Maybe air pollution in the city has damaged her brain and now she’s forgotten her home. Though really you know it started way before she came here.

The impact of stinging on the stinger is also considered.

There is even a bit of magic as Imelda’s Aunt Rose has a particular gift, sees things that others cannot, says sooths, a family thing, but not one that Imelda has ever manifested.

Murray writes in differing styles. Most of the book is presented as third-person omniscient, describing the actions and peering inside to reveal the characters’ thoughts and feelings. Standard stuff. The final section, The Age of Loneliness, is written in the second person. We alternately assume the POV of the main characters, as each races toward the stunning climax. Imelda gets a breathless, minimally formatted structure. There is a sample in the second quote at the top of this review.

I wrote Imelda’s section, and I knew she was on her way to this dinner… I wrote that first line like she, well, she needs to use the bathroom really urgently. And I put commas in and a full stop. And it did not feel right at all. The only way to write it was without the punctuation, and I wanted it to feel like you’re in her head. She doesn’t parse things in the same educated way that Dickie or indeed the kids would do. She just thinks in this much more immediate, intensive way. When you go from the kids’ sections into Imelda’s section, I wanted it to feel like, woah, there’s a change in gear here. Like there’s something’s going on that hasn’t been apparent up until now. At this moment in her life, but maybe at every point in her life, everything feels extremely precarious. She’s on this knife edge, all the time. She always feels like everything’s going to collapse, the floor is going to disappear from under her and she’s going to just tumble down into the past with her abusive dad and the poverty and the grimness and stuff. – from the. Hindustani Times interview

It would not be a Paul Murray novel if you did not come away from the reading without a few more laugh lines in your face. He takes the most liberty with this in the teens’ sections, the most reminiscent of the grand, rude humor of Skippy Dies to be found here. For example

Nature in her eyes was almost as bad as sports. The way it kept growing? The way things, like crops or whatever, would die and then next year they came back? Did no one else get how creepy that was?

or

Behind him, another boy, not as tall but slightly droopier, had started kissing Elaine. It was distracting; it seemed like she could hear it even over the metal, a squelching noise like walking on frogspawn.

or

It feels weird reading a prayer off his phone, where he has looked at so many unreligious things. He hopes the Virgin Mary knows it’s meant for her, that he’s not praying to e.g. Candy Crush or Pornhub.

You get the idea. Love this stuff.

So what’s not to like? Nothing, nothing at all. This is a wonderful, engaging, risk-taking, funny, moving, horrifying, engaging, biting, human triumph of a novel. You may feel stung by elements in this great tale, but you will come away with a literary trove of honey.

Ireland is a place where people are very good at talking. People are so funny and have such brilliant stories, and it’s a way to disguise what you’re actually feeling. The reason, I think, is because this is a place where very terrible things have happened and the way we deal with them is by not addressing them. So I feel like the ghosts are alive and they’re active. The past is affecting what you’re doing in a very real way. And if you don’t address the issues, then the darkness just grows, and the damage gets passed down from one generation to the next, like in the book. – from the Guardian interview

Review posted – 12/8/23

Publication date – 8/15/23

The Bee Sting was short-listed for the Booker Prize

I received an ARE of The Bee Sting from FSG in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks, and thanks to NetGalley for facilitating.

This review is cross-posted on my site, Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

=======================================EXTRA STUFF

Links to Paul Murray pages on Wikipedia and Goodreads

Interviews
—–Hindustani Times – Paul Murray – “Climate change is something I worry about all the time” by Saudamini Jain – READ THIS ONE
—– The Guardian – Paul Murray: ‘I just dumped all my sadness into the book’ by Killian Fox
—–The Booker Prizes – A Q&A with Booker Prize 2023 shortlisted author Paul Murray – video – 4:08

My review of an earlier book by Murray
—–Skippy Dies – one of the best books EVER!

Items of Interest from the author
—–New York Magazine – 3/15/23 – Who is Still Inside the Metaverse?
—–The Guardian – Paul Murray: ‘How the banks got rich off poor people would be a painful read without comedy’ on The Mark and the Void
—–Boston College Libraries – Fall 2022 – How to Write a Novel – video – 1:20:05 – Paul from 7:45 – On the book from 18:25 – well, sort of – Largely about why it took so long between novels – and his experience with screenwriting – Wicked funny, too.
—–Outlook India – Excerpt

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Filed under Fiction, Literary Fiction, Reviews

You Are Here by Karin Lin-Greenberg

book cover

…it’s hard to remember sometimes that no one is only who they appear to be at the moment. It’s hard to remember sometimes all that goes into a life, all the different versions of a person, throughout the years, all the ways in which people are capable of changing.

…sometimes he is utterly exhausted by being an adult, by being someone, expected to explain the world to younger people, as if he’s in possession of the right answers.

Jackson Huang is nine years old. He dreams of being a professional magician. His mom, Tina, does hair at the mall salon in suburban Albany. She is amazing at it. Jackson spends a lot of his afterschool time there. Kevin manages the mall bookstore. He enjoys dressing up in many story-appropriate costumes to read to children at the store. His wife does not understand why he does not complete his ABD (All but Dissertation) doctorate. They live in a tiny house on her mother’s property. Maria is a beautiful seventeen-year-old high school senior. She works at Chickadee Chicks in the food court. Maria wants to become an actress, so is applying to schools with theater programs. Ro is a ninety-year-old widow who still gets around pretty well. Her rep is that of the neighborhood bigot, and there is some truth to that. Ro comes in to see Tina once a week for a bit of work.

I was very interested in showing people who are all different from one another, so I sat down and brainstormed a bunch of different people, who might be working at the mall or go to the mall. I wanted these people to be those whose lives would not otherwise intersect with one another. I also thought about conflict and tension; I have these characters who are extremely set in their ways and believe one thing so strongly. When you put them in scenes with each other, you can see what might happen. It’s also about questioning: are they going to stay static, or is there room for growth? If there is room, how much would feel realistic? With the multiple narrators, I enjoyed being able to get into each of their perspectives. A character might seem a certain way and be really frustrating in one chapter, when viewed through someone else’s thought process. In a later chapter, you might get their own thought process—they might still be frustrating, but you could at least understand why they believe the things that they believe. – from the Electric Lit interview

With the impending closing of the mall as the unifying thread, we get to know each of these five as they work their way through individual conflicts, over ten months, from September to June. Jackson gets hassled at school. Tina, her skills being what they are, can probably get another salon gig when the mall closes, but she has always wanted to be an artist. Maria has a boy who is quite odd interested in her maybe a bit too much. Kevin really needs to decide what he wants to do with his life, whether or not to complete his degree work or something else. He has a scheme for a border collie business that sounds impractical. Ro, after a lifetime of pushing people away, has come to her senses, and is eager to reconnect, to make some amends, regretting her long misanthropy.

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Karin Lin-Greenberg – Image from her Goodreads profile

With alternating chapters, we get to know each of these five, and a bit of the supporting cast as well. Some interact solely at the mall. With others, there is connection beyond. Kevin and his family, for example, live very close to Ro. Maria helps Jackson with a school performance. A friend of Maria’s helps Tina with her artistic hopes.

The promotional material for the book compares You Are Here to Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge. That seems a fair comparison.

I wanted there to be ten chapters in the span of ten months, leading up to the mall’s closing. While writing these stories, I was thinking a lot about Olive Kitteridge and Olive Again, by Elizabeth Strout, and how those circled around a particular place, which was a small town in Maine.

As with Strout, Lin-Greenberg offers us a cast of regular people, but finds what is interesting in each of them. I would add Kent Haruf to the comparables list. As in the work of Strout and Haruf, KLG, using the mall, gives us a look at a place, a time, a community, by looking closely at some of the lives it contains.

It is a novel of personal, very human hopes, of dreams. No one here is looking to save or conquer the planet, or even the nearest mall. But some of those hopes and dreams are secret. Tina is a very practical single-mother focused on taking care of her son, drawing on odd scraps of paper when opportunity presents. Some encourage her to take art classes, but she resists, fearing that dreaming too big might endanger her main role as provider. Jackson tries to keep his magical interest on the down-low with Tina, fearing her disapproval. Kevin has feelings about academia that he does not feel free to share with his wife. Ro has been secretive for almost a century. Old habits die hard.

The book has a very quiet timbre to it, one of the things about it that reminded me of Haruf.

“People who often get the most attention are the loudest, but people who are the quietest often have a lot going on inside. I wanted to explore that in this book. Many of the characters I write about are isolated and lonely. Many are not living the lives they had once wished for. As a writer I can explore the interiors of these people. I can go into their minds and show what they’re thinking and how they’re feeling.” – from the Times-Union interview

My first impression was that this was not so much a novel but a book of linked stories. KLG is an award-winning writer of short stories, so this seemed a natural progression.

I had my first sabbatical during the 2018-19 school year, and that’s when I wrote the first draft of my novel. I tricked myself by saying, ‘It’s not a novel. It’s a series of linked stories.’ – from the Times Union interview

It may at first have the feel of a linked short story collection, but the five-strand plaiting of the main characters, the consistent concern with a singular place and its impending demise, and consistent thematic concerns ensure that it is indeed a novel, and a bloody good one. There is a tragic event that occurs toward the back end of the tale. Some repercussions of that are shown.

Over the lead-up to the closing of the mall, we switch among the five main characters as they approach having to decide what they will do with themselves when it does. With their interactions, they form a small community of their own.

You Are Here was not KLG’s first title for the book.

I can’t take credit for it; my agent came up with it. My original title was Those Days at the Mall, which is a character’s line in the very last chapter. Obviously, the mall map says “You Are Here.” But it’s also so much about place and where people spend their time. So, the question behind the title was thinking about where we spend our days. -from the Electric Lit interview

This is a novel that is both incredibly sad and softly uplifting. KLG offers us a look at five ethnically and chronologically diverse ordinary people, ranging in age from nine to ninety, and delivers insightful, empathic looks at them all. (Well, some more than others, of course) We can appreciate both their challenges and their dreams. Even when their obstacles are self-driven, we can see how they came about, and maybe catch a glimpse of what might be possible ahead. You will feel for them, even if some might make you wince a bit at their decision-making. You will want Jackson to have a magical debut on stage. You will want Tina to find a way to respond to her muse. You will want Kevin to figure out what he wants to do with his life. You will want for Maria to get into the theater program of her dreams. You will want Ro to sail past her long-stout boundaries and realize her dream of human connection in the time left in her life.

KLG made her mark, and won awards as a writer of short stories, but when you read You Are Here, you will be exactly there, at the very beginning of what promises to be a long and wonderful novel-writing career.

She stares at her son, willing him to look at her and tell her about the magic tricks he’s been practicing. She wants him to invite her to his school talent show. She wants him to tell her about the videos he’s been watching. But he just keeps reading. Tina looks down at the desk, sees her sketch of the goose, peeking out from under some menus. Jackson shuffled around, and she grabs the sketch, balls it up, and drops it into the garbage can finish the desk. As the crumpled paper falls from her hand, she thinks it’s not just that Jackson is hiding something from her; it’s that he is imitating her. He’s keeping secret something that’s important to him, maybe because he’s afraid he’s no good or it’s silly or she’d be disappointed to know he cares about such a thing. She feels certain he has learned to be quiet and secretive, and to not allow himself to talk about impractical dreams from her.

Review posted – 8/25/23

Publication date – 5/2/23

I received a copy of You Are Here from Counterpoint in return for a fair review, and promising not to shut my doors for good. Thanks, folks.

This review is cross-posted on Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

======================================EXTRA STUFF

Links to Karin Lin-Greenberg’s personal, FB, Instagram, and Twitter pages

Profile – from Wikipedia

Karin Lin-Greenberg is an American fiction writer. Her story collection, Faulty Predictions (University of Georgia Press, 2014), won the 2013 Flannery O’Connor Award for Short Fiction[1] and the 2014 Foreword Review INDIEFAB Book of the Year Award (Gold Winner for Short Stories).[2] Her stories have appeared in The Antioch Review, Bellevue Literary Review, Berkeley Fiction Review, Epoch, Kenyon Review Online, New Ohio Review, The North American Review, and Redivider. She is currently an associate professor of English at Siena College in Loudonville, New York. She has previously taught at Missouri State University, The College of Wooster, and Appalachian State University. She earned an MFA in Fiction Writing from the University of Pittsburghin 2006, an MA in Literature and Writing from Temple University in 2003, and a BA in English from Bryn Mawr College.

Interviews
—–Times Union – Siena’s Karin Lin-Greenberg breaks into new novel, ‘You Are Here’ by Jack Rightmyer – May 10, 2023
—–The Southern Review – A Writer’s Insight: Karin Lin-Greenberg – primarily about her short-story writing
—–Zyzzyva – Q&A WITH KARIN LIN-
GREENBERG, AUTHORCOF ‘YOU ARE HERE’
by VALERIE BRAYLOVSKIY
—–Electric Lit – The Last Days of a Dying Mall in Upstate New York by JAEYEON YOO

Items of Interest from the author
—–LitHub – excerpt
—–Lin-Greenburg’s site – Links to other on-line work she has published
—–Read Her Like An Open Book – Karin Lin-Greenberg, author of YOU ARE HERE, on patience and publishing

Kent Haruf books we have enjoyed
—–2015 – Our Souls At Night
—–2013 – Benediction
—–2004 – Eventide
—–1999 – Plainsong

My reviews of books by Elizabeth Strout
—–2021 – Oh William!
—–2019 – Olive, Again
—–2008 – Olive Kitteridge

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Filed under Fiction, Literary Fiction

Looking Glass Sound by Catriona Ward

book cover

The sea whispers, faint. It sounds like pages shuffling. A seal barks. I lick a finger and test the breeze. The wind is in the east. A moment later it comes, mournful and high. The stones are singing and I feel it, at last, that I’m home. I listen for a time, despite my tiredness. I think, if heartbreak had a sound, it would be just like this.

She can smell him the way wild animals smell prey.

The visions don’t frighten me anymore. I can usually tell what’s real and what isn’t.

Don’t get comfortable.

Wilder Harlow has returned to the cottage where he stayed as a teen, to write the book he had started over three decades before. He is not entirely well. We meet him in 1989, via his unpublished memoir, which tells of the momentous events of that Summer. He was sixteen. His parents had just inherited a cottage from the late Uncle Vernon, and opt to spend a summer there before deciding whether to sell. It is on the Looking Glass Sound of the title, near a town, Castine, in Maine. Beset in prep school, for his unusual features, particularly pale skin and bug eyes, Wilder is ready for a novel experience. (“I’m looking at myself in the bathroom mirror and thinking about love, because I plan on falling in love this Summer. I don’t know how or with whom.”)

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Catriona Ward – image from Love Reading

The sound has an unusual…um…sound.

The leaves of the sugar maple whisper—under it, there’s a high-pitched whine, a long shrill note like bad singing…it sounds like all the things you’re not supposed to believe in—mermaids, selkies, sirens…’What’s that sound?’ It seems like it’s coming from inside of me, somehow. Dad pauses in the act of unlocking the door. ‘It’s the stones on the beach. High tide has eaten away at them, making little holes—kind of like finger stops on a flute—and when the wind is in the east, coming over the ocean, it whistles through.’

Sure, dad, but the wind-driven whistling is not the only sound that haunts in these parts.

It does not take long for Wilder to make two friends. Nathaniel is the son of a local fisherman, his mother long gone. Harper is English, her well-to-do parents summer there. Wilder’s relationships with these two will define not only this Summer and the one after, but the rest of his life. Harper is a flaming redhead, with issues. She has been kicked out of many schools, for diverse crimes. So, of course, Wilder is madly in love with her at first sight. Nat, a golden boy in Wilder’s eyes, has a way of describing fishing with a harshness that is unsettling. The three form their own tribe for a time.

Pearl is named for her mother’s favorite jewel. She was only five when mom disappeared. They had been staying at a B&B in Castine. But Pearl’s mother is far from forgotten.

Sometimes her mother talks to Pearl in the night. She learns to keep herself awake, so she can hear her. It always happens the same way. Rebecca’s coming. It starts with the sound of the wind roaring in Pearl’s head, just like that day on the mountain. And then Rebecca’s warm hands close over her cold ears.

The area has a local creep. Dagger Man is the name assigned to whoever is responsible for a series of break-ins of homes occupied by Summer people. He takes photos of kids sleeping. Then sends the polaroids to the parents.x The images include a dagger to the throat. Adding to the creepiness, there is a history of women going missing here. And a legend of a sea goddess luring people to a dark end.

The second summer in Castine, there is an accident in a secret cave, involving Wilder, Nat, and Harper. It leads to a very dark, traumatic discovery, upending their worlds.

When Wilder heads off to college, soon after, he is intent on becoming a writer, but, while there, his closest friend, Sky, steals his story, going on to publish a wildly successful novel using it. Wilder is never able to get past this, thus his final return to the source a lifetime later, to have one last go at writing his true version.

Ward employs some of the usual tricks of creating a discomfiting atmosphere. The sounds emanating from the bay are strong among these. Even underwater I can still hear the wind singing in the rocks. And I hear a voice, too, calling. In describing Harper, Wilder notes Her hair is deep, almost unnatural red, like blood. And The wet sand of the bay is slick and grey. It’s obscene like viscera, a surface that shouldn’t be uncovered. (Well, ok then. Which way to the pool?) Nat describing how his father kills seals is pretty chilling.

Ward has had some eerie experiences,

I suffer from hypnagogic hallucinations. They started when I was about 13, taking the form of a hand in the small of my back as I was falling asleep, shoving me out of bed really hard. I knew there was someone in the room and I knew they didn’t mean me well. With the information I had at the time – pre-Google as well – there was no other explanation for it, was there? I think it’s probably the deepest chasm I have ever looked into. There’s nothing comparable to it in the daylight world. – from the 9/26/22 Guardian interview

which find their way into the story.

So, there are two presenting mysteries, Dagger Man and the missing women. And a bit of magic in the air, whether it is a dark siren luring some to a watery grave, mysterious noises and notes, or teens fooling around with witchy spells. Are the kids just being imaginative, or is there something truly spectral going on?

A feeling of powerlessness is core to the horror genre. The main characters here share a deep sense of vulnerability. This is very much a coming-of-age novel. Adolescence is a prime vulnerable state, a transition between childhood and the mystery of adulthood. Not knowing who you are. Trying on different roles, names, behaviors, hoping for love, of whatever sort, always susceptible to rejection and/or betrayal, and/or disappointment. There is added vulnerability with their families. Any teen going through changes would benefit from a solid base of parental constancy. Wilder’s parents are going through more than just a rough patch. Nat does not seem particularly close to his only parent. Harper refers to a pet dog that protects her from her father. There are enough secrets in the world. Bad families, bad fathers. Pearl’s mother, like Nat’s, is long gone. In addition to whatever else assails them, there is self-harm.

The Dagger Man is wandering about. People disappear. The bay has disturbing aspects to engage all the senses. There are a few more stressors, as well. That certainly sets the stage for an unsettling horror tale. That would all be plenty. But wait, there’s more.

Some books have unreliable narrators This one has an unreliable ensemble, existing in unreliable worlds. Looking Glass Sound is not your usual scare-fest. The terrors here lie deeper than a slasher villain or a vengeful ghost. In addition to the external frights, these have to do with existential concerns, about identity, who, what, where, and when you are. Offering the sorts of thoughts that can interfere with a restful night, with the legs to disturb your sleep for a long time. This would be more than enough, but wait.

This is also a book about writing. A pretty common element in many novels, it’s on steroids in this one, cruising along in the meta lane.

Writers are monsters, really. We eat everything we see.

The book is a mirror and I am stepping through the looking glass.

‘Writing is power,’ she says. ‘Big magic. It’s a way of keeping someone alive forever.’

I think about our three names, us kids, as we were. ‘Wilder,’ I whisper to myself sometimes. ‘Nathaniel, Harper.’ We’re all named after writers. It’s too much of a coincidence. Harper. Wilder. Harlow. The names chime together. The kind of thing that would never happen in real life but it might happen in a book.

‘You wanted to live forever,’ Harper says gently. ‘You both did, you and Wilder. That’s all writers really want, whatever they say.

She also gets into the morality of story ownership. When does your personal tale become a commodity? Who has the right to tell your story?

I cannot say I have ever read a book quite like this one. It is not an easy read. Despite some surface technique that places it in the gothic/horror realm, there is a lot more going on here. You will have to be on top of your reading game to keep track, but it will be worth your time and studied attention. There should be surgeon general’s warning on this book. Stick with it and you will get a very satisfying read, and endure many nights of unwelcome wondering.

I wake to the sound of breath. No hand caressing me, this time. Instead I have the sense that I am being pummeled and stretched, pulled by firm hands into agonizing, geometrical shapes. I scream but no voice comes from my throat. Instead, an infernal scratching—horrible, like rats’ claws on stone, like bone grinding, like the creak of a bough before it breaks. Or like a pen scratching on paper.

Review posted – 7/21/23

Publication date – 08/08/23

I received an ARE of Looking Glass Sound from Tor/Nightfire in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks, and thanks to NetGalley for facilitating. Can you please turn down the volume on that thing?

This review is cross-posted on Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

=======================================EXTRA STUFF

Profile – from Wikipedia
Catriona Ward was born in Washington, D.C. Her family moved a lot and she grew up all over the world, including in the United States, Kenya, Madagascar, Yemen, and Morocco. Dartmoor was the one place the family returned to on a regular basis. Ward read English at St Edmund Hall, Oxford. Ward initially worked as an actor based in New York. When she returned to London she worked on her first novel while writing for a human rights foundation until she left to take an MA in creative writing from the University of East Anglia. That novel, Rawblood (distributed in the United States as The Girl from Rawblood), was published in 2015. Now she writes novels and short stories, and reviews for various publications.[1] Ward won the August Derleth Award for Best Horror Novel in 2016 …and again in 2018 for Little Eve, making her the first woman to win the prize twice.
Her most successful novel has been The Last House on Needless Street.

Links to Ward’s FB and Instagram pages

Interviews
—–The Guardian – 9/26/22 – Catriona Ward: ‘When done right, horror is a transformative experience.’ by Hephzibah Anderson
—–The Guardian – 3/13/21‘Every monster has a story’: Catriona Ward on her chilling gothic novel by Justine Jordan
—–Lit Reactor – Catriona Ward: Learning to Fail by Jena Brown
—–The Big Thrill – 8/31/2021 – Up Close: Catriona Ward by April Snellings
—–Tor/Forge – Catriona Ward – What Was Your Inspiration for Looking Glass Sound?
—–Books Around the Corner – Catriona Ward by Stephanie Ross
—–Quick Book Reviews – Episode 206 – April 24, 2023 – Books! Boks! Books! from 26:06 to 42:30

Items of Interest
—–The Novelry – 10/2/2022 – Catriona Ward and the Power of Writing Horror
—–NHS – Charles Bonnet syndrome

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Filed under Fantasy, Fiction, Horror, Literary Fiction, Mystery, psycho killer, Suspense, Thriller, Thriller

Sisters of the Lost Nation by Nick Medina

book cover

The spirit of a chief, you see, is a powerful thing. The skull became a head again when it was lifted from the grave . . . resurrected.”
“Resurrected?” she echoed.
“Alive again,” he said, his voice measured and grievously low, prolonging every word. “But not like it was before. Not like the old chief. It’s angry now that it’s been ripped from its rest. And ravenous. Hungry for revenge. It’ll eat anyone it encounters. It’ll tear flesh from bone.”
“How?” she said.
“It rolls, gathering mud and moss on its decaying flesh.”

Black bark to her sides and ash beneath her feet, she smelled the earthy odors of dirt, mud, burnt wood, and something so vile her stomach turned. It was the same smell the wind had wafted her way on the nights she’d been chased. Only the odor was stronger now. Inescapable.

Seventeen-year-old Anna Horn is terrified of two things. The first a magical, carnivorous head that gets around by rolling, and is possessed of a set of very nasty teeth. She believes it is determined to eat her. This is the result of a tale her Uncle Ray had told her ten years ago. Her terror about the rolling head permeates, as she fears its arrival every time there is a rustle in the bushes, the main difference in her experience of it being that she can flee faster at seventeen than she could at seven. The second is that she will never see her sister again. Fifteen-year-old Grace has joined the growing list of Native women gone missing.

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Nick Medina – image from Transatlantic Agency

Anna is in the throes of that perennial challenge of the teen-years, (for some of us, this challenge can go on for decades) figuring out who she is. She is way more mature than most of us were at that age, for sure. She does not exactly dress to impress, favoring her father’s old clothes, and sporting a very unfashionable short haircut. She loves the stories of her tribe, the fictional Takodas, to the point of wanting to start a historical preservation society, to save Takoda history, myths, and traditions for future generations. The considerate and kind classmates at her mostly white school completely understand and support her efforts at self-discovery. As if. They make her school experience a living hell, taking it further than unkind words. Grace is a very different sort, desperate to fit in, wanting attention, focusing on her looks and pleasing others in order to grease the way to hanging with the cool kids. Acquiring a cell phone is the key to her potential rise, and she will do whatever she can to get the money for one.

The story flips back and forth in time, moving forward from Anna’s Day 1 in showing how events came to be, and from the day of Grace’s disappearance, showing the investigation and results. Chapters are labeled in reference to days since Anna’s story begins. Grace does not go missing until well along in those days. Chapters looking at the search for Grace are also labeled with the number of hours since her disappearance.

Medina wanted to highlight the epidemic of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (WWIMG) that has been devastating Native communities for a long time. He shows the all-too-familiar problems residents of tribal lands face when someone goes missing, a viper’s nest of overlapping legal jurisdictions, inadequate police funding, and official indifference among them, not to mention racism. Speaking of which Medina portrays people of all shades as less then admirable. Even the Native manager of the casino assigns Native workers based on their skin color. Fox Ballard, nephew of the tribal leader, is young, handsome, flashy, sculpted, and not at all to be trusted.

Medina pays attention, as well to the impact of modernization on traditional values. The Takoda nation has been significantly changed by the opening of a casino on the reservation. The most obvious contrast is that of Anna (traditional) vs Grace (modern). The new road offers up a steady supply of splatted frogs, a pretty clear image of the cost of replacing treasured values with treasure. Income from the casino is making its way to all the people on the rez, although it is also clear that some Takoda are more equal than others.

As explained in the Author’s note that follows the book, the inspiration for the carnivorous rolling head came from actual Wintu and Cheyenne legends. It reminded me of the relentless ungulate in Stephen Graham Jones’s The Only Good Indians, except that the elk in Jones’s tale is seeking revenge, while the head, though our only real look at it is through Anna’s terrified eyes, seems a more open opportunity attacker. Frankly, scary as it seems to her, it cannot hold a candle to Graham’s hoofed-slasher. It may have been scary to Anna as a character, but did not cause me any lost sleep as a reader.

I did feel at times that this book read more like a YA story than a fully adult one, an observation, not a black mark. The greatest strength of the novel is Medina’s portrayal of his lead, Anna. It is in seeing her social challenges, following her passions, tracking her investigative efforts, admiring her bravery, and rooting for her to mature to a point where she is comfortable in her own skin, that we come to care about her. That alone makes this a good read. The added payload, about the core issue of the book, Missing and Murdred Indigenous Women, about the impact of modernization on traditional values, about gender identity, and about the impact of story on our lives, gives it a far greater heft.

This is Medina’s first novel. He refers to it as a “thriller with mythological horror.” It is an impressive beginning to what we hope is a long and productive career.

She said Frog exemplified transformation. He entered life in one form and left it in another. From egg to tadpole, to tadpole with legs, to amphibian with tail, to tailless frog, he was never the same. He began life in water, only emerging once he was his true self. He symbolized change, rebirth, and renewal, and his spirit could bring rain.
Anna stared down at the ill-fated frog. The reservation was transforming. The asphalt beneath her feet was evidence of that. And yet the very symbol of change had become a victim of it. The absurdity didn’t escape her.

Review posted – 6/23/23

Publication date – 4/18/23

I received an ARE of book name from publisher in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks. Can you get that thing to stop chasing me? And thanks to NetGalley for facilitating.

This review is cross-posted on Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

=======================================EXTRA STUFF

Links to the author’s personal, Instagram, and Twitter pages

PROFILE – from The Transatlantic Agency

A Chicago native, Nick Medina is an author and college professor of public speaking and multicultural communication…Nick’s first short story was published in 2009 and he has since had dozens more published by West Pigeon Press, Dark Highlands, and UnEarthed Press, in addition to outlets in the U.S. and the U.K., such as Midwest Literary Magazine, The Washington Pastime, The Absent Willow Review and Underground Voices.

Interviews
—–Paulsemel.com – Exclusive Interview: “Sisters Of The Lost Nation” Author Nick Medina – e-mail interview
—–#Poured Over – The B&N Podcast – Nick Medina on Sisters of the Lost Nation – by Marie Cummings – video – 48:04
—–Murder by the Book – Special Prelaunch Q&A: Nick Medina Presents “Sister of the Lost Nation” by Sara DiVello – video – 33:31
—–FanFiAddict – Author Interview: Nick Medina (Sisters of the Lost Nation) by Cassidee Lanstra

Items of Interest from the author
—–Tor.Com – Excerpt
—–CrimeReads.com – EXPLORING SOCIAL ISSUES THROUGH HORROR

Items of Interest
—–Medina said that his initial inspiration for the novel was from an AP article published in the Chicago Tribune. Here is the article as published by AP – #NotInvisible: Why are Native American women vanishing? by Sharon Cohen
—–CBC – MMIWG cases continued at same rate even after national inquiry began, data shows
—– First People: American Indian Legends – The Rolling Head – A Cheyenne Legend

For horror grounded in the Native experience, I can recommend
—–Stephen Graham Jones – Mongrels
—–Stephen Graham Jones – The Only Good Indians
—–Stephen Graham Jones – My Heart is a Chainsaw
—–Stephen Graham Jones – Don’t Fear the Reaper
—–Cherie Dimaline – Empire of Wild

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Filed under Fantasy, Fiction, Horror, Mystery, Native Americans, Suspense, Thriller

The Last Chairlift by John Irving

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Think of your first good kiss. Was it life-changing, or was it no big deal? Do you remember how old you were? Did it matter, at the time, who gave it to you? Do you even remember who it was?
I’ll tell you this: when you’re thirteen and your mother gives you your first good kiss, you better hope someone matches it or eclipses it—soon. That’s your only hope.

Autobiography just isn’t good or bad enough to work as fiction… Unrevised, real life is just a mess.

The overall format is one of a frame, with Adam Brewster opening by letting us know that this is the story of his life and times, then returning to turn out the lights when the tale has been completed. It is a family saga of Irving’s era, 50’s 60s, (Vietnam) 70s, 80s (Reagan, AIDS) et al, to the mad, reactionary violence of the 21st century. Adam Brewster, a writer and screenwriter, is our narrator for a look at the sexual politics of a lifetime, from his birth in 1941 to his later days some eighty years on.

Adam’s mother, Rachel Brewster (Little Ray), was a nearly-pro ski nut, who spent large parts of every year on the slopes, settling for work as an instructor. That left Adam in the hands of his grandmother for much of his upbringing, assisted by a passel of relations. He would hunger for time with his only known parent for much of his life, a core element of the novel.

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John Irving – image from Outside Magazine

Readers of John Irving will recognize much that is familiar, from his prior work and his life. The novel is set in Exeter, New Hampshire, Irving’s home town; includes a benign stepparent teaching at Phillips Exeter (as his actual stepfather did); includes the narrator as a student there. Yep, Irving attended. There is wrestling, of course. Bears are limited to a kind of snowshoe shaped like their paws. A hotel figures large. There is an absent biological father, (Irving’s father was in the US Army Air Force. He never met him.); a mother with too many secrets; there is also reference made to an inappropriate relationship between an adult woman and an underage boy. (something Irving himself experienced); considerable attention is directed to feeling like, to being, an outsider.

”That’s just who you are, Adam,” my older cousin said. “There’s a foreignness inside you—beginning with where you come from. The foreignness is in you—that’s just who you are. You and me and Ray—we’re outliers.”

In fact, Irving turns the tables here, as Adam, as the only straight among the main characters, is the outsider in his own family, always the last to get things, he is nonetheless loved and supported by his sexually diverse relations.

His mother’s lifelong lover, Molly, effectively his stepmother, tells Adam, “There’s more than one way to love people, Kid.” It serves as a core message for the book and for Irving’s oeuvre. One of the main characters is transgender. He first wrote a sympathetic trans character in The World According to Garp, in 1978. So, when his son, born many years after the book was published, came out to his parents as trans, she knew her father would be completely supportive.

The politics of divergent sexuality through time manifests in diverse venues. Raucous comedic material performed at a comedy club in one era is considered too much for a later sensibility, a new puritanism of correctness. Safety for being different is a concern. Adam is very worried when his stepfather is out in their town dressed as a woman, even trails him sometimes in case a backup is needed. Reagan’s unwillingness to address AIDS until six years into his presidency is noted. Acceptance increases over time, but increased acceptance sparks increased resistance. A performer of material deemed unacceptable to some becomes a target for violence in a more disturbed climate.

In addition to the overarching theme of looking at sexual politics, sexuality is shown as far less important than the connection between people. Things that may seem sexual actually have a lot less to do with sex than connection. For instance, Adam and his mother often sleep together, in the slumbering, not biblical sense, well past the age where that is generally deemed ok. There is another relationship in which a straight man and a gay woman share a bed, sans fooling around.

There is hilarity aplenty, not least with Adam’s young sequence of damaged or damaging lovers. Lots of cringy LOL material there. I counted a dozen “LOLs” in my notes, some for entire chapters.

And then there are ghosts. Irving calls this a ghost story. I refer you to a piece on his site that addresses this directly.

Ghosts don’t just warn us about the future; they remind us of what we’ve forgotten about the past. All this is to say, I have a history of being interested in ghosts. And here come the ghosts again. In my new novel…the ghosts are more prominent than before; the ghosts, or hints of ghosts, begin and end the novel.

We all have ghosts we live with, but the ones here are visible, well, to some, anyway. They hang out in large numbers at a hotel in Aspen, but also turn up at home. The spectres are historical and familial, with some able to interact with the physical world (sometimes with LOL results) sometimes condemned to remain non-impactful. They do indeed, as noted above, remind us of the past, sometimes darkly so, but some offer direction and comfort. And Irving uses his behemoth of a novel to keep generating new ones. They pass over in a wide range of ways; lightning, murder on a stage, sudden avalanche, cancer, suicide, murder in a hotel, falling from a chairlift, leaping from a chairlift, death in war, et al. Falkner famously said “The past is never dead. It’s not even the past.” I guess it could be said for many characters in The Last Chairlift that even the dead are never entirely dead.

Adam’s profession offers ample opportunity for Irving (winner of a National Book Award AND a screenwriting Oscar) to present a wealth of material about writing, both for the screen and for print.

“My life could be a movie,” you hear people say, but what do they mean? Don’t they mean their lives are too incredible to be real—too unbelievably good or bad? “My life could be a movie” means you think movies are both less than realistic and more than you can expect from real life. “My life could be a movie” means you think your life has been special enough to get made as a movie; it means you think your life has been spectacularly blessed or cursed.
But my life is a movie, and not for the usual self-congratulatory or self-pitying reasons. My life is a movie because I’m a screenwriter. I’m first and foremost a novelist, but even when I write a novel, I’m a visualizer—I’m seeing the story unfold as if it were already on film.

Imagining the stories you want to write, and waiting to write them, is part of the writing process—like thinking about the characters you want to create, but not creating them. Yet when I did this, when I was just a kid at Exeter—when I thought about writing all the time, but I never finished anything I was writing—this amounted to little more than daydreaming.

you don’t see with hindsight in a first draft. You have to finish the first draft to see what you’ve missed.

Fiction writers like what we call truthful exaggeration. When we write about something that really happened—or it almost happened, could have happened—we just enhance what happened. Essentially, the story remains real, but we make it better than it truly was, or we make it more awful—­depending on our inclination.

There are many more—it is a very long book—but this last one in particular speaks very directly to Irving’s process. As noted up top, he returns to familiar themes and situations. In interviews he says that he begins with the same life experiences, but then changes where they go, how they morph, as if his creative process was to take the stem cells of his experiences and direct them to grow into a wide range of possible pieces. Same source, different outcomes.

It is not just the characters and situation that have morphed, it is the form as well. As Adam is a screenwriter as well as a novelist, and as this story is Adam’s, it is fitting that how he perceives the world makes its way into how he presents his story. There are long chapters that are written in screenplay format, complete with fade-ins, fade-outs, off-screen narration, closeups, wide-shots, the whole toolkit. It is an interesting tactic. I found it off-putting, but it does allow for a different approach to the material.

He does not just talk about writing per se, but incorporates into the novel considerable attention to his favorite book of all time, Moby Dick. (he has the last line of Moby Dick tattooed on his left forearm) This book opens with My mother named me Adam…, which resonates with Call me Ishmael and no less with …I am born from David Copperfield, Dickens being a particular Irving favorite. He sees himself as more of a 19th century novelist than a 21st century one.

…because those novels have always represented the model of the form for me. I loathed Hemingway. I thought Faulkner was excessive. Fitzgerald was ok, but lazy at times. I was enamored of the kind of novel all of my classmates at school despised.

References to Melville’s masterpiece (sometimes hilariously), Dickens, Ibsen, and plenty of others abound.

It is pretty clear that John Irving has had an interesting life. Eighty years old at the time of publication, he does not see The Last Chairlift as his last hurrah. In fact, he signed a three-book deal with Simon and Schuster, of which this was merely the first. He promises, though, that the next two will be a lot shorter.

Until then, this one will certainly suffice. Irving has lost none of his sense of humor. This book was more than occasionally laugh-out-loud funny. He has lost none of his feel for writing relatable humans. While some of the supporting cast are painted in broad strokes, to illustrate this or that sociopolitical issue of a given time, the main ones, and even hordes of second-tier characters are drawn with fine lines, and deep sensitivity. He has lost none of his vision, seeing clearly the currents of the eras considered, and how those have impacted social and political possibility for rounded humans who do not fit the square holes of a boilerplate majority. For all that Irving writes about people who are different, he makes it eminently clear that in matters that count we all share the same needs, to be loved, seen, and respected for who we are. Here’s hoping it will not be another seven years until we get to enjoy another of John Irving’s marvelous works.

…the dead don’t entirely go away—not if you see them on the subway, or in your heart.

Review posted – February 17, 2023

Publication date – October 18, 2022

I received an ARE of The Last Chairlift from Simon & Schuster in return for a fair review. Thanks, folks, and thanks to NetGalley for facilitating.

This review has been cross-posted on GoodReads. Stop by and say Hi!

=======================================EXTRA STUFF

Irving’s personal and FB pages

Interviews
—–CBS Sunday Morning – John Irving: A Writer’s Life with Rita Braver – a delight – Sees himself as a 19th century writer
—–Late Night with Seth Meyers – John Irving Doesn’t Write a Book Until He Knows How It’s Going to End
—–Freethought Matters – Freethought Matters: John Irving
– video – 28:08 – with Ann Laurie Gaylor and Dan Barker – Interview begins at 2:57 – focus on chairlift begins at about 18:00
—–NPR Podcasts – Book of the Day – ‘The Last Chairlift’ is John Irving’s latest novel on sexual politics with Scott Simon – Audio – 10:26
—–Hazlift – ‘Hope is an Elusive Quality’: An Interview with John Irving by Haley Cunningham
—–Toronto Star – Hugging us back in the dark: John Irving on making us care about his characters, sexual politics, and the ghosts in his new book ‘The Last Chairlift’ by Deborah Dundas

Items of Interest from the author
—–Here Come the Ghosts Again on ghosts in his novels
—–CBS News – excerpt
—–Lithub – excerpt

My review of another book by Irving
—–In One Person

Items of Interest
—– Moby Dick – Full text – with annotations
—–David Copperfield – Full text – with footnote annotations

Items of Interest from the author
—– Here Come the Ghosts Againon ghosts in his novels

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Filed under Feminism, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction, Reviews

A Thousand Steps by T. Jefferson Parker

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1968 was certainly an interesting time. Laguna Beach was an interesting place, an artist colony and tourist destination of about 13,000 residents, and, these days anyway, about six million visitors a year for a current local population of a bit over 20,000. So, even with a temporal discount it had to have been a lot back then too. T. Jefferson Parker lived there for a stretch. It inspired his first, very successful, novel, Laguna Heat, so he knows the territory into which he places his young hero.

Sixteen-year-old Matt Anthony is a hard-working, pretty decent kid. Holds down a paper route for money, building muscle and character on his Schwinn Heavy-Duti bike. Single mom, Julie, holds down a crappy job at a Jolly Roger restaurant. (Might be better named Davey Jones’ Locker?) His older brother, Kyle, is a short-timer in ‘Nam, terrified that something will happen to him in his remaining weeks. Their father, Bruce, a former cop, has been mostly out of the picture for years, but maintains occasional contact. Mom has issues with substances, which are dramatically available in southern Orange County, and her issues are growing more alarming. Matt’s body is going through some changes, which is always a joyous experience. And then his sister, Jasmine, a recent High School graduate, gorgeous, straight-A student, in-crowd, rebellious toward the usual authorities, goes poof! Stayed out overnight (not alarming in itself) but has remained MIA and the local fuzz are uninterested.

I was fourteen-years old in 1968 so I experienced the strange, beguiling world of Laguna Beach as a very impressionable, wide-eyed, wonder-struck boy. When it came time to create a hero/protagonist for A Thousand Steps, I just aged myself—that fourteen-year old boy—into a sixteen-year old on the cusp of getting his driver’s license, and let him take off in his mother’s hippie van! – from the Mark Gottlieb interview

Bill Furlong personifies that disinterest, a large officer, with an interest in Julie for things other than possession of illegal substances. Brigit Darnell is the good cop, young, a mom, willing to listen to Matt. It may or may not matter. He knows his sister. Does not accept that she had simply run off. And one more piece. Bonnie Stratmeyer, 18, missing two months, posters proclaiming the fact up all around, has just been found at the bottom of the stairs at the Thousand Steps Beach. (Last time Parker actually went up, or down, or both, he counted 224, but the number changes with each attempt. It’s 219 in the book.) Bonnie had not taken the usual route down. Thus Matt’s panic about Jazz.

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T. Jefferson Parker – image from Laguna Beach Independent – photo by Rita Parker

The thousand steps of the title is a notable waterfront location, but it might also be what Matt sets himself to take on, in the absence of official interest. The plot is Matt continuing to search for his missing sister, continuing to turn up clues, continuing to pester the cops to do their job, while trying to cope with chaos at home, and while coming of age, physically, socially, and emotionally. Although it may be less of a journey for Matt than other teens. He is a pretty grounded kid. And then there is the local color. A holding pen of new agers, con-men, regular crooks, a biker gang, drug dealers, drug abusers, and feckless teens. There are enough shady goings on here to blot out the California sun.

Mystic Arts World is a bookstore/head-shop/local institution that offers classes on meditation, among other things. Johnny Grail, the owner, is a bit of a local legend, a slippery sort, well able to keep a step or two ahead of the police, (who are desperate to catch him holding or doing anything illegal) to the delight of area residents. The whole New Age thing was not particularly popular with the constabulary. Go figure. But despite their clear prejudice, they actually may have something. Johnny is about as clean as a public crash pad.

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Mystic Arts World (1967-1970), a head shop in Laguna Beach, was ground zero for psychedelic culture in southern California during the late 1960s and early 1970s. It was there that a loosely organized group of artists interested in alternative culture, mystical experience and the transformation of society, “The Mystic Artists”, congregated and exhibited their art. Their artistic expression ranged from Beat assemblage to figuration to psychedelic art. – image and text from The Brotherhood of Eternal Love site

Local color extends to the presence of Timothy Leary, offering lectures at the MAW, and a Swami who has attracted a bit of a following. He offers increasing levels of instruction to his followers. Some reside at his compound, a former seminary. Matt and his brother used to play there when they were kids and it was unused.

The town hosts an annual tableaux vivants, i.e. classic paintings brought to life with people dressed up as characters in the works, and sets made to bring the paintings to life. A few characters in the novel are in it. Matt likes this. He is a budding artist and draws a passel of scenes from his experiences to help police in their frail attempts to look for his sister, and address other crimes. He is particularly fond of the work of Edward Hopper.

Working class life contrasts with the lifestyles of the rich, corrupt, and horny. We get a peek at some excusive locations hosting some very dodgy goings on. Matt fishes less for recreation than for a supply of protein, which mom cannot always provide. They live in a clapboard rental, for which Mom struggles to make rent, Matt sleeping in the garage. But we see great wealth on display as well. There is a part of town called Dodge City, for its casual relationship with the law, general run-down-ness and general hostility toward people toting badges. Get out of Dodge? Sure, ASAP. But up-slope and down-slope have plenty of criminal intent in common.

So what happened to Jazz? Is she still alive? As the days pass the odds seem worse and worse. Is Matt’s mom serious about stopping her drug use? He gathers help where he can, and pedals on, but we wonder if he might be wasting his time. Why does Mom want to move to Dodge City? Will his father ever show up to help? He keeps promising. And even if he does, would he be more hindrance than help? Is the Swami as nice and wise as he seems? Girls are becoming more a part of his life, and maybe even some activities that often accompany such associations. Will Matt’s permanent crush on Laurel ever go anywhere?

I am roughly the same age as Matt, so can relate to being a teen in that era. It never hurts to add that into the reading enjoyment mix. On the other hand, my east coast experience was quite different from his Cali life, including the degree of drug exposure. My older brother was in the army too, but not in Viet Nam. My father was around. My mom’s drugs of choice were Tareytons and tea. But still, we all go through adolescence, so there is the coming-of-age element to relate to. Sounds like Matt skipped the parts where your voice goes to hell, your face resembles a moonscape, and embarrassing body parts pop up for no discernible reason, for all to see. Whatever. It is impossible not to love Matt. There is one gripe I have about him, though. For someone who was so smart and intrepid about tracking down his sister, he is startlingly blind about some items, which I will not spoil here, that were jumping up and down and screaming from the pages. Yeah, he is just an unworldly teen, so could easily miss some things, but he seems pretty sharp about other stuff, so it rankled.

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Matt’s bike – image from TJP’s Twitter cache

Parker has been at this for a while. Steps is his 27th book. His first, Laguna Heat, was an instant success, and was brought to the screen by HBO. His work includes multiple series, and has earned him THREE EDGAR AWARDS! So, no slouch. He started his writing career as a cub reporter. In the Internet Writing Journal interview Parker was asked how his journalism background informed his writing.

The best thing about journalism is that it teaches a young person how the world works. It’s not the writing itself, because that is fairly straightforward and desirably formulaic. It’s the exposure that’s valuable. When I was 23 I was covering cultural events, movies, books, city hall, school board, fires, police — everything but sports and business. It was a crash course on civics, human nature, bureaucracy. It was also a crash course on how the press and the government and business all interact. Those relationships are at the core of what we are as a republic.

He knew he was not a journalistic long-timer, but being a reporter did hone his skills, and also allowed him a venues in which he could collect plenty of details to include in his fictional writing. His craft has grown as well. Keep an ear out for the soundscape Parker has incorporated. It enriches the reading experience.

I read this one at bedtime, 20-30 pps a night, sometimes more, sometimes less, depending. Every day I was reading this book I was eager, very eager to tuck my lower half under the covers, (also good for hiding the cloven hoofs) crank up the laptop for my notetaking, switch on the lights to make reading my hardcopy ARE possible, and reveled. You all know that feeling when you are truly enjoying a book, and look forward to getting back to it every day. Well, presuming that you do not just scarf down the entire thing in one ginormous gulp. I prefer to spread out that joy. So, a couple weeks, and it delivered every night.

Bottom line is that I totally enjoyed this book. Appreciated the portrait of a time and place well known to the author, loved the lead character, and had fun trying to figure out who had committed (was committing?) which crimes, how, and why. A few of those will quickly succumb to your investigative instincts, but the rest will keep you guessing. Mystery, suspense, thriller, coming-of-age? Use whatever adjective suits or mix and match. Doesn’t matter. Whatever you call it, A Thousand Steps will remain a pretty good read. You will not need any LSD or opiated anything to get off on or get into this book. Go ahead. Be a tourist in Laguna Beach for a bit. It’s a trip you won’t want to miss.

Review posted – January 7, 2022

Publication date – January 11, 2022

This review has been cross-posted on Goodreads. Stop by and say Hi!

I received an ARE of A Thousand Steps from Macmillan’s Reading Insiders Club program in return for a couple of hits of that sweet product. Righteous, man.

=======================================EXTRA STUFF

Links to the Parker’s personal, FB, GR, and Twitter pages

What does the T. stand for?
Not a thing. No, really. Nada. Zip. Nothing. Jeff’s mom always explained it by saying she thought the T. would look good on the President’s door.
– from the Bookbrowse interview

Interviews
—–Mark Gottlieb Talks Books – Three-Time Edgar Award-winner and New York Times Bestselling Author T. Jefferson Parker
—–2007 – Bookpage – Only in California by Jay MacDonald
—–The VJ Books Podcast – T. Jefferson Parker – A Thousand Steps by Roger Nichols
—–2018- Bookbrowse – An interview with T Jefferson Parker
—–The Internet Writing Journal – A Conversation With T. Jefferson Parker by Claire E. White
—–2002 – Orange County Register – THE VIEW FROM ELSEWHERE by Amy Wilson

Songs/Music
—–The Rollingstones – Satisfaction
—–Cream – Tales of Great Ulysses
—–Cream – Sunshine of Your Love
—–Jimi Hendrix – Foxy Lady – Hendrix performs in front of an audience of the sitting dead in Miami
—–The Byrds – Mr. Tambourine Man

Items of Interest
—–The Brotherhood of Eternal Love – their site
—–Brotherhood of Eternal Love – Laguna Beach – Wet Side Story – a bit of Laguna Beach history
—–All That’s Interesting (ATI) – An interesting article about the BEL in the 1960s
—–Wiki on Timothy Leary
—–Wiki on the Pageant of the Masters, an annual event held in Laguna Beach, featuring tableaux vivants, i.e. classic paintings brought to life with people dressed up as characters in the works, and sets made to bring the paintings to life. A few characters in the novel are in it. Here is a nifty video promoting the event today.

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Filed under Fiction, Historical Fiction, Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Thriller