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Book Review: Maame by Jessica George
When Maddie’s mother returns from Ghana to London, she encourages her to take a break from caregiving for her father with Parkinson’s by moving out. She does, but things don’t go according to plan.
Summary:
It’s fair to say that Maddie’s life in London is far from rewarding. With a mother who spends most of her time in Ghana (yet still somehow manages to be overbearing), Maddie is the primary caretaker for her father, who suffers from advanced stage Parkinson’s. At work, her boss is a nightmare and Maddie is tired of always being the only Black person in every meeting.
When her mum returns from her latest trip to Ghana, Maddie leaps at the chance to get out of the family home and finally start living. A self-acknowledged late bloomer, she’s ready to experience some important “firsts”: She finds a flat share, says yes to after-work drinks, pushes for more recognition in her career, and throws herself into the bewildering world of internet dating. But it’s not long before tragedy strikes, forcing Maddie to face the true nature of her unconventional family, and the perils—and rewards—of putting her heart on the line.
Review:
I picked this book up because I heard it compared to Bridget Jones’s Diary (one of my all-time favorite reads). While I don’t think that comparison is fair, I did enjoy Maddie’s much more raw story.
The comparison seems to largely exist because Maddie is a woman in London navigating her life. But, unlike Bridget Jones, which is a romcom, this is a story largely about grief, mental health, and navigating work, dating, and roommates as a Black woman.
Be warned this is a slight spoiler but important to discussing this book. The tragedy is that Maddie’s father dies from Parkinson’s complications shortly after she moves out. The book largely explores grief, and how Maddie moves through it as a twenty-something who was the primary caregiver for her father for years. As someone who also lost my father in my twenties, I found the explorations of her grief to be raw and beautiful. I read this as an audiobook, so I can’t find the exact quote, but at one point someone says that we can’t ever really understand someone else’s grief even when we’ve been through it ourselves because it’s a unique experience for each person. How true that is.
The book also explores the specific struggles Maddie faces as a Black woman. Some of these it does directly, such as how Maddie feels as the only Black woman in her workplace. But others are seen just in passing. Maddie doesn’t linger on them (this is narrated in first person) but it’s still impactful to the reader. For example, Maddie moves in with two white roommates. One of them touches her hair when it’s half-done on wash day. The other roommate immediately scolds her and tells her to never touch a Black woman’s hair without asking. The first roommate pushes back that it’s ok because they’re roommates. Maddie doesn’t say anything, but we see how she then proceeds to finish her wash day in such a way that the reader knows she’s not enjoying it anymore like she was.
Something I wasn’t expecting in this book was the three sex scenes. They’re not written in a particularly spicy manner. But they are detailed. Closed door is a personal preference to me, and I think we could have still understood the emotional impact of the sex scenes without seeing them fully. I also think two of the three are clearly not written for reader enjoyment (because Maddie herself doesn’t enjoy them), so I’m not sure what benefit there is to having them there for the reader either. Some readers may feel that one of these scenes veers in SA, in spite of the fact that Maddie herself doesn’t feel that way. I’m happy to go into more details in the comments if a reader needs to know before reading.
One thing that surprised me in a good way in this book was how Maddie’s relationship with her mother evolves over the course of the book. I was honestly expecting the relationship to fall apart. Instead, they both work to better understand and relate to each other. That was very nice to see. I also like that her mother is religious, and Maddie never mocks her mother for this. Maddie herself goes to church sometimes, even when she struggles to know exactly how she feels about her faith. It’s not the focus of the book but it’s a part of who she is, and I like that the characters are allowed to have that in a mainstream book.
Overall, this is an emotional read featuring some heavy topics. While it’s not a twenty-something romcom, it is a realistic depiction of what life can be like in your twenties for many women around the world. Recommended for readers looking to get a bit deeper in their reading, as well as those looking for own voices representation. The audiobook format is particularly well narrated.
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4 out of 5 stars
Length: 320 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: Library
Buy It (Amazon or Bookshop.org)
Book Review: How to Say Babylon: A Memoir by Safiya Sinclair
A poet recalls her childhood growing up as a minoritized Rastafarian in Jamaica with an abusive father.
Summary:
Throughout her childhood, Safiya Sinclair’s father, a volatile reggae musician and militant adherent to a strict sect of Rastafari, became obsessed with her purity, in particular, with the threat of what Rastas call Babylon, the immoral and corrupting influences of the Western world outside their home. He worried that womanhood would make Safiya and her sisters morally weak and impure, and believed a woman’s highest virtue was her obedience.
In an effort to keep Babylon outside the gate, he forbade almost everything. In place of pants, the women in her family were made to wear long skirts and dresses to cover their arms and legs, head wraps to cover their hair, no make-up, no jewelry, no opinions, no friends. Safiya’s mother, while loyal to her father, nonetheless gave Safiya and her siblings the gift of books, including poetry, to which Safiya latched on for dear life. And as Safiya watched her mother struggle voicelessly for years under housework and the rigidity of her father’s beliefs, she increasingly used her education as a sharp tool with which to find her voice and break free. Inevitably, with her rebellion comes clashes with her father, whose rage and paranoia explodes in increasing violence. As Safiya’s voice grows, lyrically and poetically, a collision course is set between them.
Review:
I picked this memoir up because I was interested in learning more about Rastafarianism. I was a religious studies minor in university, but Rastafarianism wasn’t something we’d touched on. The beginning of this book really delivered on educating me about the faith.
The memoir starts with a little introduction to Rastafarianism along with a brief history of Safiya’s father’s childhood and her mother’s childhood and what led each of them to convert to Rastafarianism. The religion sprang up in the 1930s as a faith of the most oppressed peoples in Jamaica. There is some disagreement as to whether Rastafarianism is a sect of Christianity or a separate faith entirely. Most Rastas believe that the Ethiopian Emperor Ras Tafari was the second coming of Christ. (In spite of him directly telling Rastas when he visited Jamaica that he was not Christ. Rastas felt that’s something Christ would say.) Just as with all faiths, there is a spectrum of beliefs and observances among Rastas. But there are three that are common.
First that the hair should not be cut, instead left in its natural state, leading them to dreadlocking it. Second, reggae as spiritual music. Third, smoking marijuana for spiritual experiences. Many Rastas are vegetarian, some are strict vegans. (Read more.) Something I found really beautiful was how Rastas adjust their speech, specifically how they will say “the I-and-I” as a reminder that God is indwelling in them. Safiya’s father will sometimes say “the I-man” to clarify when it was something limited to just him, and not him and God. The only thing I knew about Rastafarianism before I read this book was that it was common in Jamaica, so I learned a lot in an easy, beautiful way. The author didn’t just rely on her own childhood understanding of the faith but also interviewed Rasta elders and did some additional reading for the book. And it shows. To me, this was the strongest part of the book.
I thought when I picked this up it was a memoir of religion, but I think after reading it would be more accurate to say it was a memoir about an abusive father/daughter relationship that was at least a bit entwined with religion. So the focus was the abuse, not the religion. But it was necessary to understand the religion in order to understand some of where her father was coming from. Safiya’s father was on the more conservative end of the spectrum with regards to Rastafarianism. (He was also a reggae musician who kept running up against bad luck.) The family were strict vegans. He was more patriarchal and quite concerned about keeping his daughters safe from “Babylon” (the outside influence and dangers) in a way he wasn’t so much about his son.
But there are things that surprised me given the clear conservative lean of the family. The children all go to school. The daughters are encouraged to excel just as much as the son is. (The author even gets into an elite private school on scholarship, something that makes her parents very proud.) The children are allowed to continue living at home, even when they do things that go against the Rastafarian way. For example, the author models and cuts off her dreadlocks. I also was surprised to learn that Rastas were treated poorly in Jamaica while the author was growing up. She’s ridiculed due to being Rasta, and it wasn’t possible for her to pass as no one else seemed to have dreadlocks.
The abuse, though, is quite brutal. I was expecting from the book’s description emotional/spiritual abuse. Those do exist. But serious physical abuse does as well. One chapter titled “The Red Belt” made my chest ache to read. Any reader going into the book should be aware of this. I think some readers will relate to how Safiya deals with her father, and others will struggle to understand it.
The author is primarily a poet. Her work in poetry is what helped her achieve her goal of emigrating from Jamaica. Her poetic skills are evident in this book. I’m sure a reader who loves poetry will connect with this more than I did. I struggle to connect with poetry and so, even though I saw the beauty in the words, I struggled for them to move me. Similarly, while I always love to hear people talk about what they love doing, I didn’t connect with the author’s connection to poetry the way I would if I loved it similarly.
Overall, this is a book that will mean a lot to a reader who loves poetry and is able to read passages about physical and emotional abuse. Readers who like to root for someone to pivot into a life entirely different from how they grew up.
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3 out of 5 stars
Length: 352 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: Library
Buy It (Amazon or Bookshop.org)
Book Review: The Woman in Me by Britney Spears
Two years after her conservatorship ended, pop star Britney Spears tells her story.
Summary:
In June 2021, the whole world was listening as Britney Spears spoke in open court. The impact of sharing her voice—her truth—was undeniable, and it changed the course of her life and the lives of countless others. The Woman in Me reveals for the first time her incredible journey—and the strength at the core of one of the greatest performers in pop music history.
Written with remarkable candor and humor, Spears’s groundbreaking book illuminates the enduring power of music and love—and the importance of a woman telling her own story, on her own terms, at last.
Review:
I think it’s important you know what sort of perspective you’re getting in my review. So let me be clear: I am a Britney Spears fan. From the moment I heard the first four notes of …Baby One More Time’s mp3 playing through the tinny speakers on my family’s pc when I was 13 years old, I was enamored – and I hadn’t even seen the music video yet! (And I didn’t for a while.) When I did finally start seeing Britney and not just hearing her, it got even better. Her fashion sense was, to me, spot on. I wanted nothing more than to wear those jeans and bare my midriff like her. (Although, I did not have the body confidence to do so.) Her eyeliner, her music videos, her sound.
Britney’s music was a perpetual backdrop to my rough teens and twenties. I laughed when Oops! I Did It Again mentioned the necklace in The Titanic. I got teary-eyed singing Lucky in my bedroom. I played I’m a Slave 4 U both because I liked it and because it drove my mother insane. I was terrified of snakes, and Britney DANCED with one while performing. I was a closeted bisexual, and when she kissed Madonna, I lost my mind. When she had kids, I was in college. I didn’t understand why she was so excited to be a mom, but I loved that she knew what she wanted so much. Blackout dropped my senior year, and I belted out Piece of Me on study breaks. I listened to Womanizer to make myself feel better when I was lonely in grad school Circus is still on my #GirlBoss playlist I listen to to help hype myself up when I’m doing something that feels scary in my various careers. (I’m on my second.)
When her conservatorship started, I didn’t understand what it meant. I thought she had trouble with her finances, and someone was helping her out. My husband took me to see her at her Vegas residency. I was so excited I threw up in our hotel room right before the show. I feel badly now knowing what she was going through (I did not know then), but I am here to tell you she still put on a phenomenal show for us fans in spite of all that.
When the #FreeBritney movement really started to take off, and I came to understand what a conservatorship actually meant, I joined in calling for her to be freed. I explained to anyone who would listen what was wrong with a conservatorship. And I believe this for anyone, not just for Britney. No one deserves to have their adult agency taken away, regardless of their mental abilities and/or mental health. Anything else is just ableist.
Anyway, that is who is reviewing this memoir for you. A fan who loves Britney for who she is.
The ghostwriters did a very good job of leaving Britney’s voice clearly in-tact throughout the book. It sounds like her. The story is told mostly chronologically from her childhood forward, although there is sometimes some jumping back and forth in some places. If you have read Britney’s Instagram captions, then you have some idea of the general tone of the book. But it has been edited so it is clearer than those. (And with less run-on sentences, and no emojis except in the Afterword.)
What stood out to me the most about the book was these things. First, Britney expresses that being put in the conservatorship caused her to regress sometimes. Essentially, treating her like a child made her act like a child. This is excellent insight, and a reason to not inflict conservatorships on people of any ability level. Everyone deserves to be treated with respect and like an adult. (I’d argue children deserve to be treated with more agency than they are, but that’s another topic for another blog post.) Second, Britney is of the opinion that what happened to her would never happen to a male pop star. How she was infantilized and not allowed space to be weird and creative was largely because she was a woman. Third, Britney feels part of why what happened to her did was because she tries so hard to be a “nice girl” that people end up walking all over her. She talks a bit about Madonna and how, “she demanded power, and so she got power.” (page 101) But that’s not part of Britney’s nature.
Fourth, Justin Timberlake broke up with her via text message then used the break-up to make her into the bad guy and spur on his solo career. Reminder to those who maybe weren’t around at that time – cell phones at that time didn’t let you write long messages. A break-up in a text message would have been necessarily character-limited. It makes it even worse. It seems that Britney was well and truly heart-broken and betrayed and society really piled on her on top of it. I didn’t realize that the paparazzi laws have changed since the early 2000s. I obviously wasn’t a celebrity but I remember how it was. You could see the paparazzi swarming celebrities constantly even in their own photos and videos. I used to wonder how they could stand it. (The answer is: a lot of them couldn’t.) The media was also incredibly cruel. I still have the internalized messages from just being a young woman at that time – and I wasn’t their target.
The magazines seemed to love nothing more than a photo they could run with the headline “Britney Spears got HUGE! Look, she’s not wearing makeup!” As if those two things were some kind of a sin–as if gaining weight was something unkind I’d done to them personally, a betrayal.”
The book makes it abundantly clear that the instigators of the conservatorship were her family. They swept in, claiming to be worried about her but actually wanting to control her. At the beginning of the book, she talks about her family history. How her father’s dad was abusive to him. This same grandfather also locked away her grandmother as “crazy” and left to rot there. The same thing her father tried to do to her. The intergenerational trauma gave me chills.
Ok, so why four stars instead of five? There were a few places where I wanted more. Not about any of her traumas. She has every right to only tell as much as she wants to tell. But some of the business stuff. I wanted to know more. I loved how she told us about what it was like to shoot her first music video and to dance with the snake at the awards show. I wanted more of that. What was it like to kiss Madonna? Why did she? (She says it was her idea, that they didn’t rehearse that way, but not much else.) I wish the ghost writers had nudged her a bit more to put more of those types of anecdotes in the book. Or when they came up to say more. (She says she threw a party with Natalie Portman but essentially nothing about what the party was like.) I wanted to know more about this part of Britney. Her successes, not just her traumas.
A question I was asked when I was seen reading the book was if I think Britney is really mentally unwell. My answer is this: this is a book written by a traumatized person. Britney was traumatized by her family, by the media, by various romantic partners, by the conservatorship. I don’t want to diagnose anyone. But I will say that trauma often leads to C-PTSD. And C-PTSD can often be misdiagnosed as other mental health conditions. So I hope people will keep these things in mind when looking at Britney and give her some grace. I do also think Britney is a simple, trusting person. Those type of people often end up being taken advantage of.
I’m assuming most fans have either already read the book or are (im)patiently waiting for their copy. If you’re on the fence, to you I say, this book is worth the read to explore intergenerational trauma and to dive down into late 90s/early 2000s culture. To be reminded (or learn) how misogynistic it was, even to women who were succeeding by its own rules.
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4 out of 5 stars
Length: 288 pages – average but on the shorter side
Source: Library
Buy It (Amazon or Bookshop.org)
Two 1980s Horse Girl Books Face Off
Will The Horse that Came to Breakfast or Maggies Wish win?
I’m doing something a little bit different this week. I’ve been going through my bookshelves to determine what to keep and get rid of. If it’s a book I don’t really remember very well, I’m re-reading it to help decide. As a person born in the 1980s, I just so happened to have two middle grade horse girl books first published in the 1980s on the shelf. I didn’t remember anything about them. So I re-read both of them. Each re-read took about an hour. Let’s get into it.
First up we have The Horse that Came to Breakfast by Marilyn D. Anderson, first published in 1987. I picked this one up first because how could I not with that title? I was intrigued! The first sentence didn’t exactly draw me in because it referred to their home as a “house trailer.” I grew up with friends who lived in trailer parks, and my dad lived in one in the last few years of his life. I’ve never heard anyone call them a “house trailer.” The only thing I can think, based on the strong horse presence in the rest of the book, was the author mainly thought of horse trailers when she heard the word trailer and so thought she needed to differentiate. But really it’s the other way around. Trailer (where people live) and horse trailer (what you use to move horses).
Anyway, the basic plot of this book is that this little girl really wants a horse but her parents just got divorced, her dad is now completely out of the picture, her mom had to move them to a trailer, and money is very tight. But one day (in literally the first page of the book) a horse shows up in their yard. It’s a miracle! But her mom points out this horse must have an owner and makes her look for it. It turns out the horse is from a struggling horse riding instruction place. The little girl ends up collecting cans on the side of the road to pay for lessons on the horse. There’s a mean girl who shouldn’t get to ride the horse. The horse’s life is in danger. The little girl has to save him. Etc…
While I was skeptical of this book at first, it really did draw me in. In spite of certain aspects being dated (like how often this little girl was completely unsupervised and doing things like collecting cans along the side of the road or performing chores for random strangers she just met), the overall plot was thoughtful and heartwarming. There was no judgment of her mother for the divorce or the current financial situation, but it also empathically depicted how difficult it can be for kids to adjust to new life situations. It also highlighted caring for your neighbors and building a sense of community. Plus, there’s a happy ending for the girl and the horse. What more can you ask for?
Next up is Maggie’s Wish, first published in 1984. I’ll be honest. I didn’t notice until right now that the author is the same as for The Horse that Came to Breakfast! It felt like two totally different people wrote these books.
The basic plot of this one is that Maggie lives on a working farm with her mom and dad. She’s been asking for a pony to no avail. But one day her dad says the farm is getting something she’s going to really enjoy. She thinks it’s going to be a pony but it turns out to be two large draft horses for working the farm. The dad thinks this will be more fun than tractors. Maggie is disappointed but grows to love the draft horses only for her dad to sell them and ultimately buy her a pony.
The overall message of this book was bizarre. I’m still not sure what it was. Only when you learn to love the disappointing thing will you get what you really wanted? Don’t worry, when your father makes one poor financial decision he’ll continue to make them meaning you’ll ultimately get your pony one day? The family in this have a not great dynamic. The mother is kind of constantly making fun of the father. Of course, it’s a little hard to blame her for being frustrated when he really is making poor financial decisions with the family business without consulting her (his business partner) at all first. But those conversations should be had away from the daughter and not through passive-aggressive comments. I’m also having a hard time understanding how a farmer in 1984 could possibly think using two draft horses would be better than using a tractor. There’s also a scene where the dad spanks his daughter and her cousins (not his own kids) for running off unsupervised and almost getting hurt when he sends the dog to find them who then spooks a cow who almost runs them over. If you know you have a farm with cows who are spooked by dogs and you’re not sure where the children are, why would you send a dog after them? I understand spanking had a different cultural understanding in the 1980s but it’s hard to sympathize with the dad here when he was at least partially responsible for the whole near death experience.
The winner is…..
The Horse that Came to Breakfast! This is the one I decided to keep. Maggie’s Wish went to the local Little Free Library.
This is a great example of how one author can grow and change over time. Anderson’s characters acted with much more logic, even when making mistakes, in her later book. The overall plot was also more complex with elements I didn’t get into for the sake of space here. The message was clear and sound, backed up by memorable characters and intertwining plots. Maybe if the first book you pick up by an author is from early in their career, consider picking up one of the later books just to see.
Somewhat infuriatingly, I will note when I went to get the purchase links, Maggie’s Wish is available both digitally and as new printings. But The Horse that Came to Breakfast is only available as used vintage copies. Why? Why?
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Length The Horse that Came to Breakfast: 96 pages – novella/short nonfiction
Length Maggie’s Wish: 96 pages – novella/short nonfiction
Buy The Horse that Came to Breakfast (Amazon, not available on Bookshop.org)
Buy Maggie’s Wish (Amazon or Bookshop.org)
Source: I’ve owned both books since childhood.
Book Review: The Burnout by Sophie Kinsella
Sasha’s GP prescribed three weeks off for her burnout leads her to return to the seaside resort she loved as a child in the off-season.
Summary:
Sasha has had it. She cannot bring herself to respond to another inane, “urgent” (but obviously not at all urgent) email or participate in the corporate employee joyfulness program. She hasn’t seen her friends in months. Sex? Seems like a lot of effort. Even cooking dinner takes far too much planning. Sasha has hit a wall.
Armed with good intentions to drink kale smoothies, try yoga, and find peace, she heads to the seaside resort she loved as a child. But it’s the off season, the hotel is in a dilapidated shambles, and she has to share the beach with the only other a grumpy guy named Finn, who seems as stressed as Sasha. How can she commune with nature when he’s sitting on her favorite rock, watching her? Nor can they agree on how best to alleviate their burnout ( manifesting, wild swimming; drinking whisky, getting pizza delivered to the beach).
When curious messages, seemingly addressed to Sasha and Finn, begin to appear on the beach, the two are forced to talk—about everything. How did they get so burned out? Can either of them remember something they used to love? (Answer: surfing!) And the question they try and fail to ignore: what does the energy between them—flaring even in the face of their bone-deep exhaustion—signify?
Review:
I love Sophie Kinsella’s romcoms and have read most of them (haven’t made it through the whole Shopaholic series yet). So when I saw she had a new book coming out this summer, I put it on my holds list at the library. This was a witty one with more surfing than I would have expected for a British book.
As usual for me in a Kinsella book, I was pulled in right away by the description of one of Sasha’s average days with her looming burnout. Her actual burnout breakdown scene was hysterical, but I must admit I was drawn a bit out of the world when I saw everyone’s reaction to it. She sees her GP who says she needs three weeks off of work, and he workplace just gives it. I know logically that the UK has a better work culture than here in the US, but seeing it spelled out like that was a bit jarring. I have suffered from burnout myself in the past, and there was no nice GP telling work “oh, she needs three weeks off” with work just saying “okedoke!” So the, there’s no other way to say it, jealousy, about Sasha’s culture’s way of handling her burnout kind of dampened the lightheartedness of the book for me. It’s like how sometimes people joke Breaking Bad could only happen in the US because of our healthcare system. Only it’s not actually a joke.
The setting at the seaside resort that’s kind of falling apart and poorly run was delightful. Each character was well-written, even minor ones. I especially enjoyed the Gen Z concierge who embroiders her side-business while at the desk and who reminded me of a particular Gen Z-er I know in real life. Sasha’s mother pretending to be her PA and calling in silly requests to help her meet the demands of a self-help app she installed on Sasha’s phone was hysterical, and the perfect set-up for the miscommunication trope between Sasha and the love interest, Finn. It’s easy to see how Finn dislikes Sasha at first, because she’s so bad at asking for what she actually wants that she lets herself look like a semi-demanding health nut.
The mystery at the seaside wasn’t too hard to solve, but it was just the right amount of mystery for Sasha and Finn to work on together. It gave them something to do and the book a nice subplot without detracting from either the romance or the will Sasha sort out her life plots going on.
One thing that I didn’t like is that Sasha of course makes a mistake. That’s fine. She eventually needs to own up about this to Finn. But she only discusses the issue that bubbled up as a result of it. She doesn’t confess to what she did. That soured the relationship for me, because I really felt she should have confessed fully. I love a good solid confession in a romance novel, where the other character forgives easily and it ends up not being the big deal the other character worried it would. This book had the set-up for that but then not the full follow-through. Other readers might feel differently and think Sasha has nothing she needs to confess, though.
Overall, this was an enjoyable romcom with a fun setting that was a light-hearted read.
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4 out of 5 stars
Length: 416 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: Library
Buy It (Amazon or Bookshop.org)
Book Review: The Cuban Heiress by Chanel Cleeton
Two women aren’t exactly what they appear to be on a cruise from NYC to Cuba in 1936.
Summary:
In 1934, a luxury cruise becomes a fight for survival as two women’s pasts collide on a round-trip voyage from New York to Havana in New York Times bestselling author Chanel Cleeton’s page-turning new novel inspired by the true story of the SS Morro Castle.
New York heiress Catherine Dohan seemingly has it all. There’s only one problem. It’s a lie. As soon as the Morro Castle leaves port, Catherine’s past returns with a vengeance and threatens her life. Joining forces with a charismatic jewel thief, Catherine must discover who wants her dead—and why.
Elena Palacio is a dead woman. Or so everyone thinks. After a devastating betrayal left her penniless and on the run, Elena’s journey on the Morro Castle is her last hope. Steeped in secrecy and a burning desire for revenge, her return to Havana is a chance to right the wrong that has been done to her—and her prey is on the ship.
As danger swirls aboard the Morro Castle and their fates intertwine, Elena and Catherine must risk everything to see justice served once and for all.
Review:
A delightful and unique mystery set in 1936 against the backdrop of the actual SS Morro Castle whose last cruise ended in tragedy.
The mystery is told in alternating pov’s of Catherine and Elena. I liked both women, and so enjoyed both pov’s. Elena is Cuban, and Catherine (“Katie”) is Irish-American. We know right from the beginning that Catherine isn’t the heiress she’s pretending to be, and that the world thinks Elena is dead when she really isn’t. What we don’t know is precisely why. Catherine seems at first to be running some sort of scam, and she’s an engaging and likeable scam artist. Elena is more of the strong and silent type, and it at first seems like she might be working on something tied to smuggling from Cuba. But it is clear that whatever she is doing has some non-self-centered motivation. Both characters are well-done and each get their own romances, although Catherine’s is much more fleshed-out. (This is a closed door romance.)
The time period is reflected in the settings and dialogue without overshadowing the main mystery. The mystery itself is really only a mystery because key pieces of information are withheld from the reader. That’s my least favorite type of mystery, so I was a bit annoyed by that. Since the boat is only docked for one day in Havana, we don’t get to see much of Cuba, and I would have liked to have seen more. Perhaps in a flashback, since Elena is originally from Cuba.
Overall, this is an enjoyable historic mystery with a dash of romance in a luxury setting of a 1936 cruise ship that still manages to make both of its main characters relatable and likeable. Recommended for those who like historic mysteries and romance.
If you found this review helpful, please consider tipping me on ko-fi, checking out my digital items available in my ko-fi shop, buying one of my publications, using one of my referral/coupon codes, or signing up for my free microfiction monthly newsletter. Thank you for your support!
4 out of 5 stars
Length: 336 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: Library
Buy It (Amazon or Bookshop.org)
Book Review: The Haunting of Alejandra by V. Castro
Alejandra, deep in the throes of postpartum depression, starts to see the specter of the Mexican folk demon La Llorona.
Summary:
Alejandra no longer knows who she is. To her husband, she is a wife, and to her children, a mother. To her own adoptive mother, she is a daughter. But they cannot see who Alejandra has become: a woman struggling with a darkness that threatens to consume her.
Nor can they see what Alejandra sees. In times of despair, a ghostly vision appears to her, the apparition of a crying woman in a ragged white gown.
When Alejandra visits a therapist, she begins exploring her family’s history, starting with the biological mother she never knew. As she goes deeper into the lives of the women in her family, she learns that heartbreak and tragedy are not the only things she has in common with her ancestors.
Because the crying woman was with them, too. She is La Llorona, the vengeful and murderous mother of Mexican legend. And she will not leave until Alejandra follows her mother, her grandmother, and all the women who came before her into the darkness.
But Alejandra has inherited more than just pain. She has inherited the strength and the courage of her foremothers—and she will have to summon everything they have given her to banish La Llorona forever.
Review:
The concept for this book is super original. A family with a genetic predisposition to postpartum depression is also haunted by an interdimensional being who takes advantage of that among the first-born daughters. It tackles both intergenerational trauma (especially of the colonized) and postpartum depression through a speculative lens. This speculative horror book also shows the main character going on a healing journey.
I particularly appreciated that the postpartum depression wasn’t a mere symptom of the haunting. Alejandra has postpartum depression. The being essentially targets the negative things Alejandra’s brain is already telling her. An example from the very beginning of the book is Alejandra is crying in the shower because she is so sad, and the being shows up and starts suggesting her family would be better off without her. An idea Alejandra has probably already had, but now she’s hearing it from this being that she thinks only she can see. This strategy becomes clearer when we see the flashbacks to Alejandra’s ancestors. The being also sometimes takes advantage of physical ailments but it primarily targets mental ones. I appreciated how this meant the story still took the reality of postpartum depression seriously while also tackling the issue of the multi-generational haunting. The story is told both in the present and through extended flashback chapters to previous generations.
The main character is Chicana married to a white man. In the flashbacks to the previous generations we see the racism her grandmother endured in the 1950s, and we also learn some about Mexican history (both recent and in immediate colonization by the Spanish) through two ancestors further back. The main character is bisexual, and there is a significantly important trans side character in a historic time period flashback. I particularly appreciated seeing a trans person represented in a historical time period.
The writing was at times a little clunky, especially towards the end. It just felt like I was reading a book, as opposed to getting lost in it, and it felt like different characters sounded the same. Again, this wasn’t throughout the book but limited to occasional scenes especially toward the end of the book. I also found it an odd choice to inform the reader the present-day was 2020 and then never acknowledge any of the 2020 issues. (For example, expected the mother with postpartum depression to end up dealing with distance learning for her two school-age children. But nothing ever came up.) Everything else could have stayed the same and been in 2019, so I’m not sure why it wasn’t 2019. I also felt that the husband character was treated in a two-dimensional way, as was the marriage. Marriage is very complex and yet complexity was only allowed to the postpartum depression and not the marriage. While I enjoyed this read, I did prefer the author’s previous book, The Queen of the Cicadas / La Reina de las Chicarras (review). One reason that is also evident in the title, was that book had more Spanish in it, which let me practice my Spanish more.
Overall this is a really unique read that explores postpartum depression and intergenerational trauma through a speculative lens. It’s a plot that will keep you guessing and intrigued.
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4 out of 5 stars
Length: 272 pages – average but on the shorter side
Source: NetGalley
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Book Review: The Villa by Rachel Hawkins
When Emily’s on-again off-again best friend (who also just so happens to be a power of positive thinking influencer) invites her to spend the summer at an Italian villa, she’s surprised to discover it’s the same villa famous for a murder in the 1970s.
Summary:
As kids, Emily and Chess were inseparable. But by their 30s, their bond has been strained by the demands of their adult lives. So when Chess suggests a girls trip to Italy, Emily jumps at the chance to reconnect with her best friend.
Villa Aestas in Orvieto is a high-end holiday home now, but in 1974, it was known as Villa Rosato, and rented for the summer by a notorious rock star, Noel Gordon. In an attempt to reignite his creative spark, Noel invites up-and-coming musician, Pierce Sheldon to join him, as well as Pierce’s girlfriend, Mari, and her stepsister, Lara. But he also sets in motion a chain of events that leads to Mari writing one of the greatest horror novels of all time, Lara composing a platinum album––and ends in Pierce’s brutal murder.
As Emily digs into the villa’s complicated history, she begins to think there might be more to the story of that fateful summer in 1974. That perhaps Pierce’s murder wasn’t just a tale of sex, drugs, and rock & roll gone wrong, but that something more sinister might have occurred––and that there might be clues hidden in the now-iconic works that Mari and Lara left behind.
Yet the closer that Emily gets to the truth, the more tension she feels developing between her and Chess. As secrets from the past come to light, equally dangerous betrayals from the present also emerge––and it begins to look like the villa will claim another victim before the summer ends.
Review:
Told in both the 1970s and the present, this thriller highlights the similarities and differences of fame and near-fame for women.
The present-day perspective is that of Emily, a moderately successful cozy author going through a nasty divorce. While she’s able to make a living entirely off her writing, her success pales in comparison to her sometimes best friend Chess. Chess has a positivity influencer brand that includes publishing power of positive thinking style books (think The Secret merged with Girl, Wash Your Face.) The 1970s perspective is that of Mari, the girlfriend of one of the musicians who stayed at the villa in the 1970s. Both she and her stepsister found fame after the murder. Mari in the form of a horror book. Her stepsister in the form of an insanely popular singer/songwriter album.
The book’s central premise is that the men in these women’s lives are holding them back from finding their own artistic expression, fame, and success. The question is, are the women’s reactions justified? Put another way, are the women using self-defense (of their art) to an appropriate level given the threat? Another secondary question is can two women ever really fully support each other’s art or is someone always getting the short end of the stick?
The book isn’t heavy-handed in exploring these questions. Indeed, I was primarily wrapped up in the two mysteries going on. The first being who committed the initial murder in the villa in the 1970s. The second being why has Emily been suffering from a mysterious medical condition and does Chess have ulterior motives to having invited her to the villa? That’s a lot of mystery for one quick thriller, and it works.
I was impressed at the amount of backstory and extra information the author had to consider in putting together the two timelines. We have snippets of Mari’s book, a horror best seller by a woman in the 1970s that rivaled The Shining (my review) in this imaginary version of the 1970s. There are excerpts from that book in this one that the author had to write in a completely different tone and manner than her own writing and in a way that would make sense for the 70s. There’s also snippets of Chess’s brand, basic characters and plot for Emily’s cozy series, an excerpt from a podcast episode about the murder, Mari’s writing about her summer at the villa, and lines from her stepsister’s songs from her most famous album. That’s a lot of different voices and moving parts to keep straight, and the author does a great job of that. I found myself wishing there was more found items in the book, like another podcast episode or something. That’s not a critique. I enjoyed it so much I wanted more.
There were two things that I didn’t love about the book. These are both spoilers, so consider yourself warned! First, Emily’s illness is repeatedly brushed off by doctors as in her head. This is very frustrating and relatable for anyone who’s dealt with a mystery illness. However, by the end of the book it’s revealed that the illness is indeed psychosomatic. Even talking to her husband on the phone makes Emily sick. So the stress of being with him has been making her ill. I found this to be a really disappointing depiction. Yes, chronic illness can improve when a stressor is removed. But that wasn’t the situation in this book. Emily was only sick because of being so stressed out about her marriage. Once that’s removed, she’s better. A disappointing perspective to see in the book. Second, Chess and Emily decide to kill Emily’s soon-to-be-ex-husband since he’s dragging Emily to court for partial rights to her cozy series and threatening to do that for anything else she writes, as well as is blackmailing Chess. That’s a fine twist that makes sense. The issue is, the book shows them inviting him to visit them in the villa and reveals that he drowned and that the local police ruled it an accidental drowning. But it doesn’t show us how Emily and Chess did it. Nor is it really believable that they would be cleared so quickly in the death given the nasty divorce proceedings Emily was current undergoing. She would obviously have been a serious suspect, not brushed off so easily as one. Unless they did something with the murder that made it impossible to suspect her at all. But, again, this isn’t shown in the book. It was a short book with very little time dedicated to this murder, and I think it would have benefited from that.
Overall, in spite of two plot points I either didn’t appreciate for chronic illness representation issues or felt didn’t make much plot sense, I still enjoyed the read. It was a unique merging of a period piece thriller and a modern thriller featuring an influencer and female friendship. Recommended to thriller readers looking for a book rich in female characters who also enjoy the arts and the 1970s.
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4 out of 5 stars
Length: 279 pages – average but on the shorter side
Source: NetGalley
Buy It (Amazon or Bookshop.org)
Book Review: The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty
The book that came before the classic horror movie featuring a little girl who may or may not be possessed by a demon and the priest struggling with his faith called upon to help her.
Summary:
Actress and divorced mother Chris MacNeil starts to experience ‘difficulties’ with her usually sweet-natured eleven-year-old daughter Regan. The child becomes afflicted by spasms, convulsions and unsettling amnesiac episodes; these abruptly worsen into violent fits of appalling foul-mouthed curses, accompanied by physical mutation. Medical science is baffled by Regan’s plight and, in her increasing despair, Chris turns to troubled priest and psychiatrist Damien Karras, who immediately recognises something profoundly malevolent in Regan’s distorted fetures and speech. On Karras’s recommendation, the Church summons Father Merrin, a specialist in the exorcism of demons . . .
Review:
I’d seen the classic horror movie and, while I thought certain shots were gorgeous and the soundtrack was beautiful, I felt rather ho-hum about the story overall. Imagine my surprise when I found the book version simultaneously thrilling and intellectually engaging. A difference even more interesting since Blatty wrote both. (It’s more common for a different author to write the screenplay adaptation of a book.)
From the beginning of the book, there are three story threads. First there’s Chris, the divorced, wealthy, actress mother who is an atheist and her daughter who starts acting funny. Second, there’s Father Karras, a psychiatrist and a priest who is having a crisis of faith. Third, there are recent desecrations in a local church that a detective is investigating. These three threads merge by the end of the book. But their separate developments kept me simultaneously intellectually engaged and thrilled.
While there absolutely is the thrilling aspect of what is wrong with Regan and can she be healed/saved from it, I was drawn in by the exploration of faith. How it presents in different people, even those we assume must have a very strong faith or none at all. What it means to have faith. How having faith impacts people. How evil forces can use someone’s doubts and misunderstandings against them. (This part of the book reminded me of a more subtle version of The Screwtape Letters.)
I really felt both for Father Karras and for Regan. For the former, I understood how adult life had slowly worn down his youthful faith. How it was easier for him to believe in things when he was young than it was now in middle-age. And I also felt for Regan, whose mother left her completely unequipped to protect herself against forces of darkness. The fact that her mother forbid the nanny to mention God to her but also simultaneously allowed her to play with a Ouija board. If she’s so atheist as to not want a child to even know the concept of God, shouldn’t she also ban all religious items, including ones used for witchcraft, from her home? I don’t view this as a writing flaw but rather an accurate assessment of how often atheism attacks the concept of God but not of other supernatural forces. Indeed, I think demonstrating this was probably a part of the point.
The book does a good job of leaving it up to the reader to decide if Regan was actually possessed by a demon or having a psychosomatic experience in response to the trauma from her parents’ divorce. I’m sure you can tell from my review that I fall on the she was possessed side. You can see from the book how much more traumatic the 1970s viewed divorce for children than we do now. The 1970s brought no-fault divorce, and so the divorce rate went up, but there was still social stigma. So even though for the modern reader a simple, relatively amicable divorce with a bit of an absent father is nowhere near enough trauma for a child to have a psychotic break, for the audience in the 1970s with the stigma still fresh, it was. And the scientific side of why they think this might be is well-explained. It’s just to me it’s very clear this is a demon.
My experience of the book being about faith matches what Blatty said in interviews in his life. It’s interesting how that has been overshadowed by the cultural experience of the movie as a horror classic. Perhaps the book can be both. Indeed, theological horror is a genre.
The reason it’s not a full five stars for me is I felt like the last third of the book wasn’t as strong as the first two-thirds.
Let me leave you with my favorite quote from the book.
I think the demon’s target is not the possessed; it is us … the observers … every person in this house. And I think—I think the point is to make us despair; to reject our own humanity, Damien: to see ourselves as ultimately bestial, vile and putrescent; without dignity; ugly; unworthy. And there lies the heart of it, perhaps: in unworthiness. For I think belief in God is not a matter of reason at all; I think it finally is a matter of love: of accepting the possibility that God could ever love us.
page 345
Overall, this is a complex book of theological horror. It keeps the plot moving forward with multiple threads and compelling scenes while also taking the time to contemplate big questions about faith. Well worth the read, even if you have seen the movie, as it is a different experience altogether.
If you found this review helpful, please consider tipping me on ko-fi, checking out my digital items available in my ko-fi shop, buying one of my publications, using one of my referral/coupon codes, or signing up for my free microfiction monthly newsletter. Thank you for your support!
4 out of 5 stars
Length: 403 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: Library
Buy It (Amazon or Bookshop.org)
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