I stayed up all night to read this book, finished it in two days because I couldn’t tear myself away from it. This is an enduring story about love, sacrifice, friendship, longing, and emotional strength. At the end of this novel I felt like a lifetime had passed.
October in the Earth is about two women, one, Adella, who flees from her stifling life as a preacher’s wife, and another Louisa, who is trying to find a way back home. In the mire of the Depression Era, the 1930s, these two women ride the rails as hobos, each one trying to find a way to silence the trauma of their lives. Through their travels and travails, they find paths that lead to their true selves.
Hawker writes these women as women want to be written and seen, felt, known. Adella and Louisa are fleshy, palpable characters. Hawker creates a wide emotional landscape for the reader.
This novel reminds me of another American classic of the same historical period, Ironweed by William Kennedy, and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby; there is a deep sense of melancholy that permeates the book, a kind of grey film that is simply life in its most vulnerable form. In October in the Earth the grey veil is burlap, coarse and harsh, an irritant.
I saw this book posted over and over in a subreddit I frequent, and, being a Pulitzer Prize winner, I was intrigued. The book did not disappoint, though I hesitate to say it delivered on my expectations. This is a novel that defies expectations.
Trust is an unusual book and for many reasons, not least being its format. The novel is a work in metaphor, being a novel-within-a-novel in part. Trust is divided into four part parts: the first is a novel by Harold Vanner, a romance between Benjamin Rask and his wife, Helen. Both embody the Gilded Age of New York; this is the world of Edith Wharton, one of immeasurable, incomparable wealth, culture and romance. The second is a memoir, “My Life” by Andrew Bevel, who is the man Benjamin Rask was based on. It is a far less romantic version of events. The third takes the Trust into totally different territory; this is an account by Bevel’s secretary, Ida Partenza, who comes to learn about the real individuals behind Vanner’s novel: Andrew and Mildred Bevel. The fourth section brings the reader into the present; the novel ends with Ida Partenza’s return to the Bevel mansion and the discovery of Mildred’s voice.
This is a complex novel, one woven with a very clear and meticulous vision in mind. A novel which explores several interlocking themes and multiple facets. On one level, the novel is about power, those who have it and those who do not. It is a novel about money and wealth, access, and agency; in a word, class. But the novel is also about, on a deeper level, about perspectives and performance, and the intricate dance we must all perform in order to get what we want — or, even if we do perform, how we do not get what we want anyway.
The novel is about distortion as well, and history; indeed, the distortion of history as an easily done thing.
I read in this novel a critique of history and historians, but perhaps I am biased because of my profession. History, according to Trust, is a corrupt artifact, one which is corrupted and which corrupts as it is passed down from one decade to the next. Or perhaps, Trust suggests history is in constant revision, always awaiting revision.
I read in this novel an analysis of gender, the patriarchy, and the oppression of women and voice, which crosscuts differences of class. Ida and Mildred occupy different ends of the class spectrum, but wealth does little to protect Mildred from the savagery of patriarchy.
Content alone should not persuade you to read this novel. Diaz is a sophisticated writer, one who knows their characters well and intimately; the multiple voices come through in these sections, distinct and palpable. It is brilliantly written, deserving of its praise.
ReSet: Be Good, Your Life Depends On It by (A Novel) by Savanna Loy
A horror/dystopian novel premised on a popular trope — but delivered from a novel perspective. In ReSet the world as we know it has come to an end and a new oligarchy has come into power. A committee of a few men now decide who lives and dies and the terms which everyone must now abide. Failure to do otherwise results in the collective execution of whole communities, a reset. The novel reveals all through the eyes of one of its elite families, those chosen to plan and carry out the gruesome task of resetting.
The premise is inherently intriguing, given the climate change, political and social turmoil of the American nation at present; one cannot help but wonder what consequences we may need to confront — and perhaps sooner than we would like to admit. ReSet plays on those fears. In that vein, the novel is reminiscent of Margaret Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale and the eugenically driven political world of Gilead. A central theme of the novel is the corruption of power and the terrible consequences this can lead to.
For all its unique perspective, I found the narrative arc of the story predictable and the peak of the novel, its crescendo, slightly disappointing and less explosive than promised. The drama of that moment is confined to a small circle, decreasing the visibility of its larger impact on society. Given the drastic shift in culture that the apocalypse created, I expected a greater dramatic backlash or swing in equal measure. The ending suggests a sequel, and perhaps this is where the novel leads — rather than to a terminal ending.
On the whole, the novel was well-written, though there were some parts which unfolded in confusion — deliberately, I suspect — which detracted from the flow of the novel for this reader. Nonetheless, this is a minor complaint. Likewise, characters are well-developed and tangible, though some better than others. On the whole, an intriguing read for readers who enjoy dystopian possibilities.
This is not your average haunted house story. It is your better than average haunted house story. Readers of literary fiction will absolutely love this spin on the haunted house trope for its deep character development and character-focused orientation.
The novel is simple enough in its premise: a couple invite pandemonium into their house when they have a television crew for a “ghost hunter” style show come to their home to document their haunting. The events take place around this misfit cast of producers, camera operators, show staffers, the homeowners, and the carious psychics they call on to flesh out the dramatics of the show. It is the interplay of their individual needs, desires (met and unmet) that form the basis for this novel. Underlying all this is the omnipresent question: Is the haunting real? Or a figment of everyone’s desires? Every actor here has a vested interest in the reality of this haunting, leading the reader on a pursuit for the truth and an authenticity which may be impossible to find. This is, after all, the premise of such television shows.
Fussner’s prose was also an incredible appeal; it is literary in its language, its unfolding. Fussner’s choice of words draws a performative veil over the novel, intriguing this reader at least. I was hooked from start to finish.
Night Side of the River: Stories by Jeanette Winterson
I thoroughly enjoyed this collection of ghostly tales, but then, I may be biased; I’m a sucker for a good haunting. Of course, I did have my favorites.
I especially enjoyed “A Fur Coat”, “App-Arition” and “The Spare Room”, primarily because the haunted in these stories isn’t necessarily the living, but the dead haunting themselves or one another. Indeed, that was the attraction for me in Winterson’s tales: they challenged the concept of haunting, yet remained authentic to the trope of the traditional ghost story. Readers shouldn’t expect to be thrown into a new genre here; this is not speculative horror, but tried-and-true revised into immersive stories.
And, of course, the revelations in these stories are more about the living than the dead, which is ultimately the mark of a good short story.
The collection as a whole is fantastic, and follows through on this tightrope balance between showing the reader something novel and satisfying their hankering and expectations of the “ghost story” trope. In some stories, Winterson brings in an element of the contemporary through technology and devices we use today, in other cases, it is the characters’ quotidian lives in the present — marred somehow with an encounter with death and the dead — that makes it clear to the reader there is an anachronistic meeting of time here.
Winterson’s writing is superb, well-suited to the genre of the short story form. With few words wasted on exposition and an emphasis on characters’ thoughts, Winterson quickly immerses the reader in the story. It is everything a reader wants from this short form.
Halloween has passed, but Winter is upon us; put this on your list for this year’s gloomy, deathly season.
This novel moved me to tears, which is a rare occurrence — and more than once. One Last Waltz takes the reader on a journey of several lifetimes. This novel is a rich emotional experience for the reader.
One Last Waltz is set in a retirement community/home for the elderly, The Acorns, and the stories of its residents are told through the eyes of one of its employees, a caregiver, Angie Tomlinson (Ang, to her clients and friends.) These are the days of their lives, as their lives arrive at their terminal point. The novel highlights their small moments and casual conversations, but this is not a quotidian experience for them or the reader; it is in these small, personal interactions that the most intimate exchanges are made. This is a novel about the depth that exists in the ordinary and mundane.
Over the course of three years, the novel takes us and the residents of the Acorns, to various locations. A field day for them is as much a field day for the reader. There is indeed, a final waltz, and it is a beautiful, inspiring thing to witness as a reader.
One Last Waltz is also gorgeously written. With few words — Scholes applies an economical approach to writing — he creates an emotive landscape and breathing characters. Readers should not expect verbose visual descriptions, rather, a starkness here allows the reader to fill the visual gaps with emotion; it is their joy and pain, regret and worry, contentment and satisfaction, that is the reward of this novel. Scholes handles chronological leaps easily, taking the reader back in time to witness the events of the elderly residents lives and the meaning these have had for them. Of course, their journeys are really for our benefit as readers, as we traverse the course of our own lives, parallels to theirs.
For readers at any stage of life, Our Last Waltz is an uplifting (yet deeply solemn) and profound novel well-worth the tears it will bring to the eyes.
This was, by far, the most imaginative novel I have read this year. This is speculative fiction at its very best. Perilous Times will keep you hooked from start to end.
The novel opens with a strange awakening. Kay, an Arthurian knight emerges from the earth, no longer a corpse, but alive and tasked with a mission to save Britain – only he has no clue what this means or what he has to do. Immediately, he becomes entangled with a young woman, Mariam, who is on her own mission: to rid the world of corrupt corporate leaders who are poisoning the world and leading its few remaining inhabitants closer to environmental ruin.
The novel is set in the near future, when our climate has been so altered that most of Britain is now underwater and our environment is a grey wreck. Small bands of people live in squatter-like conditions and even smaller bands of rebels have formed to bring order to the world.
Fracking and profit-greedy corporations run public operations. A magical cadre operates on the highest level of corruption and government, and they have a secret weapon: King Arthur and the immortal knights of his roundtable.
But… this all it seems? This is a world stripped of romance and chivalry, and the knights of this mythic time are no less human than those they are tasked to save.
I will leave my description there. If this has not intrigued you yet, well… Hmph.
The ending will also put you in a spiral.
Lee also delivers the story with tremendous skill, the right dollop of humor, and the perfect dry drip of British snark. This novel is a joy to read on multiple levels.
As with several other indie novels I’ve reviewed, I found this one through a FB group I am in.
The synopsis of the The Foreboding intrigued me. Here is the description from its Amazon webpage:
Destination drawn unceremoniously from a hat, quiet, bookish Shiloh leaves her cliché life and all the expectations that went with it without any intention of looking back. Upon arrival in her new city, a dark past lurks in her musty apartment and invades her subconscious. She is quickly enveloped into an unbelievable plot that turns her assumptions about the world upside down. When personal tragedy and evil unmask a long-standing plot for power and dominance, Shiloh is forced to confront the unharnessed potential of the human mind and the interconnectedness of the world she worked so hard to learn about in school. Through the painful introspection of early adulthood and eye-opening discovery of scientific truths beyond her wildest dreams, Shiloh must learn to trust her own instincts and an unlikely group of comrades to fight the power of obsession and control threatening to obliterate all she holds most dear.
The novel has a strong start. I was especially impressed with the quality of writing in the Author’s Note — and the novel premise of its story. However, and sadly for this reader, while the novel did deliver a story that bends and challenges our conceptions of physics and nature, the novel failed to engage me emotionally and create a landscape of possibility beyond the microcosmic world of its characters.
My personal preference is for character-based literary fiction, stories in which the human connection is the fulcrum around which the rest revolves. The Foreboding lacked the character development I wanted. Shiloh came through as a distinct, fleshy voice, a strong presence as the novel’s lead protagonist, but Margaret and the others felt flattened, making it difficult to understand their motivations and purpose in the novel, especially in their interactions with Shiloh. In some parts, the dialogue — even Shiloh’s — felt contrived; likely as a result of a lack of character development, their words sounded hollow, conveying the author’s voice and intent more than their own.
For this reader, the story required smoother introductions into its concepts and more nuanced context to both bring the landscape around its events to life, and highlight its events as a singular. The world Foley suggests is an unique and intriguing one, but this quality is obscured by a too-casual framing of those events.
All this said, The Foreboding delivers on other points. First, it is technically well-written. There are few, if any, typographical errors. Its syntax, grammar, structure, and organization are largely correct, and were clearly considered with care. Second, the author has an interesting, original, and creative premise. There is a story here worth the telling, even if this reader found its delivery lacking.
As such, my overall review is mixed. Readers should read The Foreboding themselves, as they may find their experience of it to differ from my own. The novel can be purchased on Amazon here. The paperback is $16.83, the hardback $27.43, and the ebook is available on Kindle Unlimited and for purchase for $3.99.
The Hidden Secrets of NOLA: Stories by Laura Daleo, Fern Miller, Savanna Loy, Rhonda Bobbitt, & Preston Allen
This was the perfect Halloween read and one that I’d been looking forward to for several weeks! I saw the book in one of the FB groups I’m in and I put in a pre-order for the ebook (something I rarely do). It did not disappoint! This anthology of five tales set in New Orleans conjures the mystique and history of that city’s famous French quarter; the stories force the reader to reconsider their notions of the supernatural, to wonder if darkness is really the evil we assume it is. Laura Daleo’s short story about what happens when Death meets an innocent is one of these tales which gets the reader wondering about the nature of evil and compassion, how they are two sides of the same coin. Rhonda Bobbit’s tale delivers the shivers; two sisters, Rose and Lydia are haunted by a family heirloom and an inheritance they did not expect. Fern Miller, a romance writer, takes us in another direction, trading on the lust and romance of New Orleans. It is a place where lovers escape to — or attempt to escape each other –but fate always has its plans for us. Preston Allen’s story, Crossed at the Cafe, was my favorite of the five; a story revolving the hoodoo that NOLA is famous for. Powerful curses and malevolent witches deliver the shivers in this tale. Savanna Loy’s Borrowed Bayou was my second favorite story here. This was a dark tale as well. The Laguerre family hides a terrible secret; they’ve made a pact that must be kept, or thousands might lose their lives.
This is a diverse collection of tales. Readers are sure to find at least one which appeals to them. They are, on the whole, well-written and conceived. Each one evokes a different characteristic of the city: its dark history, its romance, its mystery, its portals into the underbelly of humanity. These tales record the bargains we must make; here, these are the bargains New Orleans extracts from all who visit it. Some of pacts deliver unexpected happy endings. Certainly all of the stories here make the reader wonder what they might do in the same situation.
Believe Me is the kind of novel that defines its genre. It is the perfect psychological thriller, with all the twists and turns and impossible possibilities that make readers clench their teeth while reading.
The novel begins with an explosive arrest; Carrie is carted off while doing her weekly shopping. She is accused and then convicted of murdering three young children in the woods. But did she really do it? The novel revolves around the psychiatric report ordered for her parole hearing several years later, and the investigation Dr Quinn, her appointed psychiatrist, discovers he must conduct to properly write his assessment of her.
Did she do it? Why? Where are their little bodies buried? These are the questions that haunt the compassionate doctor — and the reader.
For readers who enjoy psychological thrillers in the vein of Tana French or Sue Grafton, Believe Me will deliver abundant satisfaction. I found myself comparing Garcia’s novel to Margaret Atwood’s Alias Grace, though this novel is set in the contemporary moment, and a far shorter read. Believe Me is a compact 184 pages, and very well-written. I found myself especially drawn to Garcia’s dialogue. The characters come alive through their conversations; their voices are clear and distinct. Garcia’s prose was smooth and evocative. This reader could feel the tension between Dr Quinn and his patient, between the doctor and the staff at the prison where Carrie is an inmate. The mood Garcia creates is a veil obscuring the truth, one the doctor and the reader will claw at.
Believe Me kept me tilting on the edge throughout its 184 pages — and the ending! What a twist!
Dr JoAnn LoSavio 