"The Mortifications", by Derek Palacio - Book Review

It’s 1980, and if you’re familiar at all with Florida, you remember well the Mariel boatlift, or at least the aftermath.  In case you’re not acquainted, it was an outpouring of over 100,000 Cuban refugees to Florida via harrowing seafaring voyages - dangerous and horrifying for those braving the conditions. But perhaps it was less so than remaining under the Castro regime in Cuba.

The Mortifications begins with a mother, a son, and a daughter making this trip, leaving behind their rebel father; seeking a better life in America - in Connecticut. Soledad becomes an accomplished stenographer at the county courthouse, rising through the ranks. Twins Ulises and Isabel attend catholic school; Ulises an awkward, bookish type, and Isabel poised and godly.  Soledad begins a long romance with Dutch tobacco farmer, Henri, for whom Ulises eventually works, managing his fields and laborers.

This tale encompasses the mysticism of the Encarnación family: Soledad’s insatiable sex drive during illness; Ulises’ dedication to Latin and farming; and Isabel’s unwavering loyalty to God, which she twists to conform to each unique situation in which she finds herself; and Uxbal, the father still in Cuba. It has all the makings of an epic family drama, including the weighty return to their homeland, with Henri, in search of each other and their father. All of which is where, author Derek Palacio tries to take us.

However, with all the theater and well-written prose, the story seemed lifeless, flat.  There was a third dimension - perhaps emotion - that was missing. I could neither connect with nor suspend my disbelief for each character’s unique supremacy. There were some poignant moments in the book, nonetheless - thoughtful musings at the right moments occasionally surfaced. In the end, I was left disappointed, yearning for the incontrovertible mysticism of Gabriel Garcia Marquez or perhaps I’ll try something else altogether. 

Published: 2016
Publisher: Tim Duggan Books / Crown Publishing

Vickie’s rating: 2.5 stars 

Falling Flat with "The Loney", by Andrew Michael Hurley - Book Review

About The Loney, Stephen King wrote, “It’s not just good, it’s great. An amazing piece of fiction.”

The judges who awarded it the Costa First Novel Award wrote, “We all agreed this is as close to the perfect first novel you can get.”

I seriously wonder how it is possible we all read the same book.

It is touted as a thriller. I was never thrilled. It is supposed to be haunting and suspenseful. I found it to be neither. One reviewer suggested any reader would suffer sleepless nights.

Any sleeplessness this book caused in me related to my inability to figure out how it was so highly regarded.

The Loney
By Andrew Michael Hurley

The story is set in a gloomy coastal hamlet somewhere in the British Isles. The main character, his family, and a priest, return there to carry out an annual ritual aimed at curing his brother of his muteness.

While on their pilgrimage this time, the boys find a gun. They keep it. Some creepy locals appear. They are strange and do strange things. The boys meet an odd couple with a very pregnant teenage daughter. Some arguably supernatural – or maybe just unnatural - things occur. I couldn’t say for sure.

Perhaps the value of this book is in a subtlety too refined for my logical mind. But I read a lot of books and I feel that if I missed the point, so will many others.

Either way, The Loney’s purported genius was lost on me. My two thoughts when I finished the book were, first, what did I just read? Second, why did I just read it?

Published: 2016
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

Elizabeth's rating: 1 star

A Disappointing Follow Up in "The Heavens May Fall", by Allen Eskens - Book Review

Book reviews are of course, subjective. They are relative too. Relative to what is on the recent reading list, genres, and to other work by the same author. The Heavens May Fall is fine, with a decent plot, suspense, and an unexpected twist. So this crime drama from Allen Eskens is fine. However, after a stretch of reading that included literary heavyweights Anthony Marra, Colum McCann, and Amor Towles…. Well, it’s all relative, right?

Perhaps it’s also the comparison to Eskens’ last book, The Guise of Another, reviewed here last year. Quite good, and memorable as a rather fun crime drama - one with a likable, if not completely innocent, protagonist. But his latest release The Heavens May Fall basically does fall, short of my expectations.  The general plot is hackneyed, but strong, and Eskens’ own legal experience successfully helps develop the storyline. But I couldn’t connect with the character I felt I was supposed to connect with most. And the best I can say about the writing, is that it was concise. 

The Heavens May Fall
By Allen Eskens

Our two leading characters are Max Rupert, a homicide detective haunted by his wife’s unsolved death years prior, and Boady Sanden, a scarred defense attorney that has come out of retirement to represent his former law partner and friend who’s been accused of murder. There are several threads of old grudges, long time alliances, and previous wrongs that intersect to make the story interesting. And naturally, there is the accused, Ben Pruitt, the high powered attorney and father accused of murdering his wife. Then there are supporting characters that showed promise to be the troublemakers we love to hate - the deceased’s sister, the state’s prosecuting attorney - but neither were developed enough for me to care. There was a big wind up with no pitch.

And Max Rupert - poor Max. I wanted to root for him, to fall for him, to respect him.  Well, he achieved the latter at least, and perhaps his character is closer to reality than I gave him credit for, but I’m not reading this for reality. I want - I expect - a hero. I didn’t get one. The Heavens May Fall was a needed break from some of the intellectually substantial and emotional stories I’ve been reading of late, but I’m ready to move on to the next heady creation. 

Published: 2016
Publisher: Seventh Street Books

Vickie’s rating: 2.5 stars 

Continuing the Legacy in "Everybody's Fool", by Richard Russo - Book Review

DISCLAIMER: Because of my complete Richard Russo adoration, this review could suffer from some bias.

Everybody’s Fool is the sequel to Russo’s 1993 novel, Nobody’s Fool. Since the latter goes down as my top book of all time, I approached this one with some trepidation. It was all for naught. In my mind, the new book is virtually flawless.

Set in the imaginary town of North Bath in upstate New York, Everybody’s Fool tracks most of the same characters from the first novel. This one, however, shifts the focus from Sully, who was front and center in Nobody’s Fool, and places it on Doug Raymer, the dense town cop who was routinely the butt of Sully’s shenanigans in book one. The transfer of power is appropriate, though, as Sully has mellowed in his twilight years and Raymer matures into the man he is supposed to be in book two.

Everybody's Fool: A novel
By Richard Russo

Russo’s story telling remains beyond reproach. And while everything in the book is threaded together, some chapters are so well written and self-contained they could stand alone as novellas or short stories. Take, for instance, the chapter about Rolfe Waggenengneckt (AKA Boogie Woogie) and the snakes. Without giving spoilers, know this is a rollicking side story that will have you simultaneously laughing and wondering how Russo comes up with his ideas.

The book is about everything and nothing. It follows regular people living out their lives in a small northeastern town. It touches on racism, but with gentle strokes rather than the brash in your face-ness seen so often recently. It has all the trappings of a classic tale. There is love, heartache, a villain, revenge, forgiveness, and redemption.

Didn’t read Nobody’s Fool? Doesn’t matter; although, you would do yourself a favor to do so. Russo lays enough groundwork in Everybody’s to make reading Nobody’s optional. In fact, after more than twenty years, I find it difficult to remember much of the original one. I just remember that I loved it. I loved this one too, and did a happy-sad cry at the end during that moment of bliss when a book ends just as it should.

Published: 2016
Publisher: Knopf

Elizabeth's rating: 5 stars

A Lack of Depth in "First Comes Love", by Emily Giffin - Book Review

Having been a dedicated Emily Giffin reader since her first book, Something Borrowed, I anxiously awaited the arrival of her new one, First Comes Love. Despite reading it in only a few days, I was sorely disappointed in this one.

First Comes Love follows the Garland family after the loss of their eldest son, Daniel. This is not a giveaway since you learn about his death in the first chapter. The book primarily focuses on his two younger sisters, Josie and Meredith, and how they sort through their lives after he’s gone. While the book starts with a flashback to his death, the story is set fifteen years afterwards.

The problems with this book are numerous. First, neither Josie nor Meredith is particularly likable. Josie is a former theater actor turned high maintenance lawyer who hates her job and her life, for the most part, even though it is one to be envied. And this is not a case of deep seated clinical depression gone untreated. She’s just dissatisfied and ventures out to determine why.

Josie is a self-centered elementary school teacher wallowing over failed relationships and the fact that she is fast approaching forty with no baby of her own. So, taking matters into her own hands, she begins investigating insemination despite sorely lacking maturity to be a mother.

While Giffin usually excels at character development and ferreting out the good in her otherwise flawed characters, in this book, the development feels hurried and shallow. Even as she tries to have Josie and Meredith become more self-aware and less rigid respectively, she does so with such quick strokes it isn’t believable.

Also, though many of Giffin’s books have some things left unresolved at the end, in this one, it feels as though she just got tired of writing. She tries to wrap up major life issues for the characters with a few short chapters and it simply doesn’t ring true. If her intent was to leave it open for a sequel, she failed to present an Act I worthy of warranting an Act II.

To me, the book felt as though Giffin was under the gun to get something out. She may have accomplished her goal but she gave us a book that falls well short of the standard we have come to expect. 

Published: 2016
Publisher: Ballantine Books

Elizabeth's rating: 2 stars 

Escaping the Past in “Transformations”, by James Foley Smathers – Book Review

My friend’s dad, who is very large in stature and personality, gave me Transformations with the instruction to ‘read it.’ Out of respect and a sense of obligation, I did as told with little expectation. This is the first book for James Smathers, a retired marine and Vietnam veteran, and I was pleasantly surprised. I read it in two days.

The story tracks two main characters, Helen Warner and Jackson Andrews, who have a chance encounter in the Bahamas after their respective marriages fall apart.

Transformations
By Mr James Foley Smathers

The manner in which those marriages fall apart is fairly pedestrian. The ensuing levels of revenge in which the jilted lovers engage is not. Knowing that Smathers is happily married for decades makes one wonder where he came up with his ideas but, hey, that is what fiction is all about, right?

Smathers’ dialogue is a bit stilted with run-ons and hazy transitions which sometimes requires back tracking in order to figure out which character is actually speaking. And his attempt to replicate the local Bahamian accent is overwrought and feels more like a nod to southern slaves in the 19th century, although you do get the point. There are also some punctuation errors which are typical in a self-published book. 

Those things aside, the story telling is sound and the book moves along at a fast clip. Smathers demonstrates vast knowledge on the Bahamas, marlin fishing, addiction recovery, small aircraft flight and maintenance, and bearer bonds. Whether those insights are personal or based on research, they add texture to a classic story line of love lost and new love found.

Fun summer vacation read.

Published: 2016
Publisher: Self Published, James Foley Smathers

Elizabeth’s rating: 3 stars

Who Are the Good Guys in “The Director”, by David Ignatius - Book Review

Taking a page from Sara’s post asking authors of children’s books to stop underestimating their audience…Dear writers of political suspense novels: please stop slighting women. These novels have a wider audience than the dudes they’re targeted to. Spies, politics, and suspense are subjects a lot of women love as well. And with a generation of pretty sharp young women entering the work force and reading adult fiction, you may be pushing this audience away, as well as portraying women in a subservient light with men.

The Director: A Novel
By David Ignatius

How does this relate to The Director?  We’ll get to that. In the meantime, I’ll start with how much I did enjoy this cyber-espionage thriller. I tend to gravitate to rather heavy subjects and need to remind myself to pick up some intellectual candy every once in a while. This fit the bill perfectly. David Ignatius is a well-respected, experienced journalist with the Washington Post. He’s written several political thrillers; one made into the film, Body of Lies. He’s a skilled writer and digs deep into his subjects.

The Director takes on the thorny and very prevalent subject of cybersecurity and highly proficient hackers. The story begins with a new CIA Director, Graham Weber. Weber is an anomaly in the intelligence community - an outsider from the business world and outspoken about government abiding by its laws. His idealist philosophy immediately comes into conflict with safeguarding the nation his very first day on the job. Weber struggles with maintaining his own beliefs and morals, how far to bend them for the good of the country, and staying alive. But he has a mole within the CIA, and he has to catch him red-handed. Who does he trust in the den of spies, hackers, and politicians? As the story unfolds, we’re taken to secret hideouts, shell companies, embassies, safe houses, and the White House. 

All of this equates to a well-constructed plot and a very fun read. Here’s where my issue is, which is not exclusive to Ignatius (see my post on Leaving Berlin). The leading female character, Dr. Ariel Weiss, is beautiful, sexy, and wicked smart. She’s a cyber expert with the CIA and knows how to work the system. She essentially has to play double agent, spying within her own agency, while balancing the politics and secrets amongst the hackers, the CIA Director, and Director of National Intelligence. But for all her education and training as a secret agent, she’s amazingly vulnerable. And quite frankly, some of the scenes including Weiss are wholly ridiculous. Perhaps, geared to a male audience, Ignatius believes this is what they want to read. Or perhaps he’s simply playing into the male fantasy of women who are smart and sexy, yet still cannot fully succeed without a man’s helping hand. Well, maybe it’s still true.  

Despite this annoyance, I do recommend The Director. It’s incredibly interesting to read about international cyber warfare, along with our own country’s political cover. Ignatius bases his subjects on a certain amount of fact. Which leaves the reader to wonder how much of it is reality. Regardless, engage your suspension of disbelieve, and give it a shot.

Published: 2014
Publisher: W.W. Norton

Vickie’s rating: 3 stars 

Debut Novel, “The Girls”, by Emma Cline - Book Review

I’ll begin with a line from The Girls, when thirty-something year old main character Evie is thinking about a teenager in love she’s met and from whom she feels a familiar hunger: “Poor Sasha. Poor girls. The world fattens them on the promise of love. How badly they need it, and how little most of them will ever get.”

The Girls is a new release from Emma Cline - her first novel. And it’s quite impressive. The story is loosely based on the Manson Family cult of the late 1960’s in California. It revolves around Evie Boyd, a 14-year old only child to divorced parents. Of some wealth and education, Evie is not particularly impressed with school, the other girls, nor with her mother’s boyfriends. She drifts into a friendship with Suzanne, who is wild, unencumbered, and has little care in the world. Suzanne is part of a “family” of sorts - a group of mostly teen girls, let by the enigmatic Russell. They live in poverty and filth, steal their food, and beg for anything else they need. They’re high most of the time - booze, pot, or any drug they can get their hands on. Capitalism is bad. Sharing and love is all that matters. And Evie is free to come and go as she pleases, but regardless of the environment, she prefers to be with Suzanne.

The Girls: A Novel
By Emma Cline

There is something about Suzanne that makes Evie feel as if she matters. She is self conscious, invisible, wanting, desperate for meaningful connection. With Suzanne, Evie becomes someone of significance - sweet Evie. So eager to please and belong. Finally, there is someone that truly knows her. Where they’ve come from and where they’re going doesn’t matter. And even as they lure her deeper into their deviant orbit, she feels it’s generally harmless, buying more and more into their distorted sense of justice.

The book is told from Evie as an adult, revealing the series of events in flashbacks to 1969. It movingly calls out the insecurities and insubstantial role many girls and women have borne. “I knew just by being a girl in the world handicapped your ability to believe in yourself.” But Cline does not at all present a feminist tome; simply a version of coming of age that crosses cultures, and doesn’t ignore the common threads we have, often continuing into adulthood.

Cline’s sensitivity and expression of girls and women is remarkable, considering she is a mere 25-years old. She provides a rare prescience along with a powerful writing style that had me paying attention to every word.

Published: 2016
Publisher: Random House

Vickie’s rating: 4 stars 

Intensely Intimate With “Thirteen Ways of Looking”, by Colum McCann - Book Review

Colum McCann is truly a master of his craft. This is my first read of McCann’s library of work, but his evocative nature begs further discovery. In the midst of writing Thirteen Ways of Looking, McCann himself was attacked while trying to help a woman who had been assaulted, after which he suffered a broken cheekbone and teeth. He writes in the book’s Author’s Note, “Sometimes it seems to me that we are writing our lives in advance, but at other times we can only look back. In the end, though, every word we write is autobiographical, perhaps most especially when we attempt to avoid the autobiographical”. When you read the book, you’ll understand how poignant this statement is.

Thirteen Ways of Looking includes a novella and three short stories. The title is based upon the poem, Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, by Wallace Stevens, of which McCann includes a stanza of the poem at the beginning of each section of the novella. The stories are quite different from one another, but the unifying theme is a strong sense of yearning and loneliness, vividly told.

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“Your Heart is a Muscle the Size of a Fist”, by Sunil Yapa - Book Review

The World Trade Organization negotiations in Seattle of 1999 were memorable for their controversy, protests, and stark violence that took place. Delegates from around the world tried to gather to discuss free trade agreements amongst nations, while thousands (40,000+) of protesters halted the opening day ceremonies through acts of civil disobedience. Months of planning took place by opposition groups to influence or halt the talks, culminating in violent clashes with police. It was a very dark event, that went out of control.

Author Sunil Yapa has written his debut novel from the perspective of those attending these WTO events. Part historical fiction, part  political commentary, Yapa’s retelling of the opening day deftly moves from person to person, with vivid descriptions of each attendee’s viewpoint. We hear first from a runaway teen who had no intention of getting involved in the protests, but somehow got swept up in it; from two protestors and their own fears, joys, and sense of purpose; three police officers, including the Seattle Chief of Police; and finally, a Sri Lankan delegate attending the meetings.  Each chapter moves to a different character, checking in with them throughout the day - from the peaceful and festive atmosphere of early morning, to forceful clashes between police and protestors chained together to block streets from passage; of tear gas, police brutality, and the combination of cruelty and love that can exist simultaneously in our hearts.

There is subtext for each of the characters as well, including the source of anger behind an officer’s venom, our runaway’s search for deep meaning in life in the face of his mother’s death and his father’s cynical view of the world, and the delegate’s recognition of his place as merely a cog in the world stage wheel.  Here is where you’ll find the true interest in the story, and where I imagine the title of the book is born - the heart is not a simple vessel, but one of complex emotion capable of great affection and equal devastation. 

Yapa’s book is a quick read and illuminated for me what my memory of the event had long lost. My only disappointment was the consistent and extensive flowery style - descriptions lasted paragraphs, verging on rants. Though this shouldn’t be a reason not to pick this one up.

Published: 2016
Publisher: Lee Boudreaux Books

Vickie’s rating: 3 stars