Theresa Smith's Blog, page 129
July 23, 2018
Book A Day: Cloudstreet by Tim Winton
Day 8:
Cloudstreet
I’ve read most of Tim Winton’s books, the novels and the short story collections, and Cloudstreet remains my favourite. I first read it after watching the ABC’s First Tuesday Book Club, back in the days when it was still named that, and Marieke had nominated it as one of her all time favourites. To me, Cloudstreet is uniquely Australian, quirks and all, and I love it, enough to have more than one copy of it. It’s also a book that I’ve given to my Dad, and I’m pretty fussy about which books I gift to him! I am yet to watch the TV adaptation, despite having bought it when it first came out. I suppose, I’m slightly worried they may not have done it justice and I don’t want this to tarnish the magic of Cloudstreet for me. If you’ve watched it, let me know what you think please!
Cloudstreet gets the laughing while I am crying tick of approval. It has all the feels in a big Australian way.
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Winner of the Miles Franklin Award and recognised as one of the greatest works of Australian literature, Cloudstreet is Tim Winton’s sprawling, comic epic about luck and love, fortitude and forgiveness, and the magic of the everyday.
After two separate catastrophes, two very different families leave the country for the bright lights of Perth. The Lambs are industrious, united and – until God seems to turn his back on their boy Fish – religious. The Pickleses are gamblers, boozers, fractious, and unlikely landlords.
Chance, hardship and the war force them to swallow their dignity and share a great, breathing, shuddering joint called Cloudstreet. Over the next twenty years they struggle and strive, laugh and curse, come apart and pull together under the same roof, and try as they can to make their lives.
July 22, 2018
Book A Day: Coming Home by Rosamund Pilcher
Day 7:
Coming Home
A very dear friend of mine once lent me a book by an author she loved, whom I had never read, or even heard of. The book was The Shell Seekers and the author was Rosamund Pilcher. I loved The Shell Seekers, and in a moment of serendipity that seems to happen so often to me when it comes to books, pretty much as soon as I finished The Shell Seekers and decided to look for more books by Rosamund Pilcher, I found Coming Home in a discount bin at Big W. A great big brick of a book, more than 900 pages, it’s a stunning story, a real sweep you off your feet and take you to another time and place sort of story. You really don’t often get books like this anymore, which is a shame, but publishers tend to prescribe a standard 400 pages to a long novel nowadays, as opposed to the 800 to 1000 we used to be able to lose ourselves in. There are authors of course whose work is an exception to this and they still produce long novels, but generally, books have gotten shorter.
Anyway, there was more to my love of Coming Home than its number of pages. It was such an incredibly atmospheric and immersive story, spanning either side of WWII and set in Cornwall. There’s scenes from this novel that I can still vividly remember, twenty years on, and I can still picture myself switching off from Uni and losing myself for a few days in this beautiful story. I still have my original copy with the cover pictured here.
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Against the backdrop of an elegant Cornwall mansion before World War II and a vast continent-spanning canvas during the turbulent war years, this involving story tells of an extraordinary young woman’s coming of age, coming to grips with love and sadness, and in every sense of the term, coming home…
In 1935, Judith Dunbar is left behind at a British boarding school when her mother and baby sister go off to join her father in Singapore. At Saint Ursula’s, her friendship with Loveday Carey-Lewis sweeps her into the privileged, madcap world of the British aristocracy, teaching her about values, friendship, and wealth.
But it will be the drama of war, as it wrenches Judith from those she cares about most, that will teach her about courage…and about love.
Teeming with marvelous, memorable characters in a novel that is a true masterpiece, Coming Home is a book to be savored, reread, and cherished forever.
July 21, 2018
Book A Day: The Prophet by Michael Koryta
Day 6:
The Prophet
This is the one, the novel that made me become so fussy about psychological thrillers, setting the bar so high, it’s almost impossible that another one will ever meet it, much less surpass it. The Prophet is insanely brilliant and truly terrifying. Atmospheric in its setting with authentic small town characterisation and a complex plot that is entirely faultless. It’s also the only psychological thriller that has brought me to tears, and by tears, I mean heaving sobs that had me putting the book down and cursing Michael Koryta for his blinding brilliance. As the story builds to its conclusion, there’s a raw pain that lifts from the page and settles onto the reader’s shoulders, leaving you bereft for these characters and all they’ve had to endure.
I’ve gifted The Prophet several times since its 2012 publication. Making it one of my book a day picks urges me to read it again so I can review it properly.
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Adam Austin hasn’t spoken to his brother in years. When they were teenagers, their sister was abducted and murdered, and their devastated family never recovered. Now Adam keeps to himself, scraping by as a bail bondsman, working so close to the town’s criminal fringes that he sometimes seems a part of them.
Kent Austin is the beloved coach of the local high school football team, a religious man and hero in the community. After years of near misses, Kent’s team has a shot at the state championship, a welcome point of pride in a town that has had its share of hardships.
Just before playoffs begin, the town and the team are thrown into shock when horrifically, impossibly, another teenage girl is found murdered. When details emerge that connect the crime to the Austin brothers, the two are forced to unite to stop a killer – and to confront their buried rage and grief before history repeats itself again.
July 20, 2018
Bingo! Five Years From Now by Paige Toon
It’s bingo Saturday once again – that rolled around fast! The square I’ve filled for this entry is:
A book with a number in the title
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I’m so pleased to be able to work this novel into one of my challenges and have the opportunity to highlight it once again.
It’s not all about love in Five Years From Now. It’s also about obligation and circumstance and who you need to love more at that point in time. Nell and Vian are a terrific pair of characters and their story was a rollercoaster ride for my emotions but I loved every single second of it. I was more than happy with the ending; the hopeful, bittersweet, tinged with nostalgia outlook appealed to me greatly and I felt this lifting as I finished, a kind of rare feeling I get when I’ve read a novel that I know will stay with me for the long haul. My edition of Five Years From Now is destined to become well thumbed as I return to it over and over.
This year I’m playing book bingo with Mrs B’s Book Reviews. On the first and third Saturday of each month, we’ll post our latest entry. We’re not telling each other in advance what we’re currently reading or what square we’ll be filling next; any coincidences are exactly that – and just add to the fun!
Follow our card below if you’d like to join in, and please let us know if you do so we can check out what you’re reading.
Now I’m off to check out what square Mrs B has marked off for this round. See you over there!
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July 19, 2018
Book Review: Book of Colours by Robyn Cadwallader
About the Book:
London, 1321: In a small shop in Paternoster Row, three people are drawn together around the creation of a magnificent book, an illuminated manuscript of prayers, a book of hours. Even though the commission seems to answer the aspirations of each one of them, their own desires and ambitions threaten its completion. As each struggles to see the book come into being, it will change everything they have understood about their place in the world. In many ways, this is a story about power – it is also a novel about the place of women in the roiling and turbulent world of the early fourteenth century; what power they have, how they wield it, and just how temporary and conditional it is.
Rich, deep, sensuous and full of life, Book of Colours is also, most movingly, a profoundly beautiful story about creativity and connection, and our instinctive need to understand our world and communicate with others through the pages of a book.
My Thoughts:
“…let all of life be there in the book, from high to low, animal and monster, story and joke, devotion and dance, for God the Great Artisan made it all.”
Book of Colours by Robyn Cadwallader has been widely reviewed by Australian Women Writers Challenge participants since its release in April of this year, and as it fits into the historical fiction category, my editorial area, I’ve had the privilege of reading all of these glowing reviews. I was determined to read this novel, sooner rather than later, and I am so glad I did. It’s taken me longer to read it than what is my norm, four nights instead of two, but I can offer two reasons for this:
1. Despite being only 350 pages, the type is very small so it’s actually a much longer novel than the standard large font novels that typify commercial fiction.
2. It’s what I like to call ‘linger worthy’. Not only was I slowing my pace and taking my time, I was going back to re-read sections, particularly the passages that make up Gemma’s book, The Art of Illumination, which I found to be particularly fascinating and insightful.
“Now, day by day, as she painted in the book of hours, she thought over the words she needed, then added a little more to the pages of her book. She was glad it would be hers alone. Her thoughts, her knowledge, her years of experience.”
Passages of Gemma’s book, The Art of Illumination, head each chapter in a subtle, yet telling, manner. As I already mentioned, these were a fascinating insight into not just the processes of illumination, but the actual art of it, the appreciation of it. Intended initially for her daughter, but later given to her son, Gemma’s intent is to pass on all she has learnt about being a limner, even though her gender prevents her from actually trading as one or bearing the title. As a mark of protest, she signs her name to the book, labelling herself as the author, before gifting it to her son, breaking with custom that places women into the roles of helpers rather than authors and artists. Despite the Book of Colours being set in the early 14th century, I felt such a kinship to the two women of this story. This is not because Robyn has modernised their experiences, not at all, but rather, it’s because she has captured that commonality between women that stretches over the centuries. Fitting creative careers in around other jobs and responsibilities, often receiving less acknowledgement and remuneration for these creative efforts; working under the shadow of men who are attributed as having greater talent and knowledge of relevant matters on account of merely being male. I’m not intending to draw direct comparisons between our society today and that of 14th century London. I’m merely noting this affinity I felt for the women within this story, how tangible their struggles to be taken seriously were and how this struck a chord with me. Both Gemma and Mathilda, despite being poles apart in terms of class, were more alike than each would have realised. Gemma running her husband’s business without credit and Mathilda running her husband’s estate without credit. Each of them chafing at the dismissal and the discrimination that prevented them from being their own masters.
This is not only a story about women though. It’s also a story about class, and trade, and persevering in the face of personal failings. Will and John each had to overcome their burdens, to accept their weaknesses and press on. I admired how Robyn wove these struggles into the creation of the artwork for the book of hours. She demonstrated the deep personal connection an artist has to their work, and how this can reach out and connect artists to each other. This is very much a novel that reveres art and books, and Robyn’s descriptions of the illuminations were so vivid, it made me really wish Book of Colours came illustrated itself. Despite books being largely hidden from the masses and reserved for the wealthy, the artists illuminating the pages believed in the beauty of their work and in the value they added to the words scribed within. To illuminate a book was a privilege reserved for the best artists, and that reverence for working on a book was evident within each of the characters within this novel.
“After a time I began to think about the little girl digging the book out of the ashes and opening it, seeing it for the first time like I did. It’s as if she rescued it, that damaged book.”
With a touch of fantasy in the form of a gargoyle shadowing one of the characters, Book of Colours is a richly layered story that brings to life the ancient art of illumination against the volatile background that was London in the early 14th century. Robyn informs gently, weaving detail into her story with a masterful ability to unconsciously teach you so much, while still maintaining the entertainment value that distinguishes a novel of historical fiction from a book of historical fact. Robyn Cadwallader first came to my attention through reviews of her previous novel, The Anchoress, which I am yet to read. Having enjoyed Book of Colours as much as I did, I won’t be leaving The Anchoress to languish on the tbr pile for too long. Book of Colours is a unique novel of quiet perfection, with a satisfying ending that steers away from fairytale happy ever afters and remains grounded in reality. I lingered over this novel, savouring its magnificence and appreciating Robyn’s enormous talent as an author.
July 18, 2018
New Release Book Review: A Month of Sundays by Liz Byrski
About the Book:
For over ten years, Ros, Adele, Judy and Simone have been in an online book club, but they have never met face to face. Until now…
Determined to enjoy her imminent retirement, Adele invites her fellow bibliophiles to help her house-sit in the Blue Mountains. It’s a tantalising opportunity to spend a month walking in the fresh air, napping by the fire and, of course, reading and talking about books.
But these aren’t just any books: each member has been asked to choose a book which will teach the others more about her. And with each woman facing a crossroads in her life, it turns out there’s a lot for them to learn, not just about their fellow book-clubbers, but also about themselves.
A Month of Sundays reminds us of the joy, the comfort and the occasional challenge we can find in the pages of a book.
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My Thoughts:
I’m sure it will come as no surprise to any of you that a book about reading books was always going to be a winner for me. Liz Byrski’s latest novel, A Month of Sundays, proves just what I’ve believed for my whole life: that books are therapy. If you read the right book at the right time, it can change your life. And so it was for Ros, Adele, Simone and June, each at an individual crossroads, coming together to meet in person for the first time, each armed with a book that told the others something important about themselves.
“She can feel the warmth of the fire in front of her and the comforting presence of the other women, and knows she is in the right place…
…And she sees that this is where she might mend herself, where she will stitch together the seams that are strained or have already come apart.”
This is very much a novel about the joy of reading, what we draw from books, why we read, and the many ways in which it connects us to others and the world around us. I loved how each woman not only realised things about themselves while discussing their own books, but also through reading the ones put forward by the others. As their time together progressed, they realised that not only were each of them at an individual crossroads, but collectively, as a group, they needed to consider where they would go from here, as they had all grown rather fond of each other’s company. The book discussions were of course the highlight for me with this novel, but I also drew a lot from the emotional journeys each woman traversed. I loved the connectivity and parallels they made between their chosen books and their own lives. I also appreciated the dissemination of the individual responses to the books read, particularly when there was contention between these responses. It made me think of my own reading and reviewing, and the reviewers that I follow, and all the different reactions we usually have to the same books.
“Ros stares down at the book on her lap, thinking about what’s been said about liking or not liking a book. ‘I suppose that this is part of the magic of books, you can read something you don’t actually like but still be impressed or moved by it. And even something that is quite distasteful can strike some profound note within you, so you still read on. Liking or not liking is not always the most important thing about a book, is it?’”
A Month of Sundays is the perfect novel to curl up with on a winters day; just make sure you do so with a big cup of tea – the ladies are always drinking tea in this story. Liz Byrski has crafted a glorious celebration of reading to mark her tenth novel, and I assure you, it’s a story that will warm your heart.
“This is us, this is what we do. We talk about books, we make them work in our own lives: walk through the doors they open for us, cross the bridges they lay out for us, and pick and choose what we need to take away from them.”
July 17, 2018
Behind the Pen with Belinda Castles
I recently read the outstanding new release from Belinda Castles, Bluebottle. I enjoyed this novel so much I rather stalked Belinda’s publicist for an interview and I’m thrilled to announce that persistence pays as I welcome Belinda to Behind the Pen today. Over to you Belinda!
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Where did Bluebottle come from? What was the inspiration behind it?
A few things were buzzing around in my head at the same time. I was thinking about the character of a difficult father whose children suspect him of something terrible. I also wanted a big summer storm to bring chaos and for events to unfold over one day. (My last novel stretched over a century and I wanted to compress the action this time.) And as I walked around the place I live the events started to map themselves onto those settings. I did most of the writing while I was away in the UK for a few years, and the place and colours intensified in my mind while I was away from them.
How would you describe Bluebottle if you could only use 5 words?
Coast, weather, tension, family, secrets.
What influenced you with regards to the setting? It was such an atmospheric location for the story to unfold. Is this a place you have spent time in over the years?
I’ve lived in the area for several years on and off, and previously in similar landscapes on the Hawkesbury and Central Coast. These places where the suburbs meet a kind of natural wildness are very evocative. They seem like natural settings for secrets and the unearthing of drama.
Was there any particular character whose voice came through to you the strongest?
Jack was always very clearly known to me. His panic in response to the volatility of his father, his own gentleness and his connection to the landscape were always present in the drafts of the novel.
Can you tell us a little bit about Charlie? He was larger than life, bursting off the page, and I can’t help but wonder if he was easy to write or challenging?
Like Jack he was vivid to me from the beginning, but there were some challenging aspects of him to convey. I wanted an off-kilter character whose oddness feels real and not necessarily reducible to illness. At the same time, I wanted him to be something of a mystery to his family, and I also wanted to convey the sense that his attention is something they crave. All of those elements seem credible, but it was difficult not to make him too mysterious. My agent and editors pushed me on this and I’m grateful. I really didn’t want him to be just an appalling man.
Do you read your book reviews? Do you appreciate reader feedback and take it on board, even if it is negative? How do you deal with negative feedback after spending so much time writing your book?
I skim them quickly for the gist and reread them more slowly if they’re not too spiky. I generally stay away from Goodreads – it can be a bit of a minefield for writers and really it’s a place for readers to speak freely to each other – unless someone tweets a positive review at me. I’m not usually too aggrieved by critical feedback after publication. You can’t please everyone and what’s to be done at that stage? As far as I know no one’s ever done too much axe-grinding at my expense in any case. The difficult (but rewarding) job is responding to editorial feedback during the revision process. There’s a whole cycle of avoidance, resistance and (partial) submission to work through there!
Where do you normally write? Is it in the same place every day or are you an all over the place writer?
I like that phrase. Yes I am an all-over-the-place writer. Once upon a time I had grand plans of an immaculate desk in a well-appointed study, but with kids and earning a crust in various ways you take your opportunities where you find them or the writing won’t get done. I’ve been on a few writing retreats and those really are ideal conditions (at least for someone who usually does everything on the fly). Quiet, grand settings, a solitary room, lots of writing and walking and thinking time. Total bliss.
Is there any one particular season on the year that you find more creatively inspirational than the others?
It’s become summer, because I teach in universities, and term-time is often too busy to get into a good routine. Really – whenever I can steal some time from the rush of life and get myself back into that other world…
Bluebottle:
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With sea-salt authenticity, Belinda Castles sets the Bright family in the sprawling paradise of Bilgola Beach. But darkness is found both in the iconic setting as well as in the disturbing behaviour of one of the family.
As he tilted the blinds she saw her mother in her tennis whites, standing at the kitchen bench, staring out into the dark bushland that bordered their houses. That was what Tricia did these days, looked into the bush as though it would attack one of them.
On a sweltering day in a cliff-top beach shack, Jack and Lou Bright grow suspicious about the behaviour of their charismatic, unpredictable father, Charlie. A girl they know has disappeared, and as the day unfolds, Jack’s eruptions of panic, Lou’s sultry rebellions and their little sister Phoebe’s attention-seeking push the family towards revelation. Twenty years later, the Bright children have remained close to the cliff edges, russet sand and moody ocean of their childhood. Behind the beautiful surfaces of their daily lives lies the difficult landscape of their past, always threatening to break through. And then, one night in late summer, they return to the house on the cliff… Gripping and evocative, Bluebottle is a story of a family bound by an inescapable past, from the award-winning author of The River Baptists and Hannah and Emil.
July 16, 2018
New Release Book Review: Baby Teeth by Zoje Stage
About the Book:
Your husband thinks your daughter’s an angel. You know different. She’s a monster.
On the outside it looks like Suzette has it all. A stunning ultra-modern home, designed by her handsome Swedish husband. A beautiful, but silent, seven-year-old daughter who is fiercely intelligent. But under the shiny veneer, the cracks are all too clear.
For her daughter Hanna isn’t just clever, she’s dangerous. Her behaviour is carefully calculated. She adores her father, yet wants Suzette to disappear. And as Hanna’s tricks become increasingly sophisticated – from tampering with her mother’s daily medication, imitating a rabid dog, to setting Suzette on fire – it’s increasingly clear that there is something seriously wrong with their little girl.
Because what kind of child wants to kill their own mother?
My Thoughts:
Thrillers and I have a complicated relationship. I don’t read them often, but when I do, my expectations are quite high. Baby Teeth, the debut novel by American author Zoje Stage, totally exceeded my expectations and then some. I sat gripped by this novel, barely putting it down, devouring it in one long night, pushing myself towards 2am in order to finish it. Once you begin it yourself, you’ll know exactly why I sacrificed sleep to this chilling novel.
There was a certain element of disbelief attached to this novel for me, although the deeper I got into it, the more credible the story became. Told in alternating perspectives, this story is downright creepy and utterly captivating. Hanna is seven years old, she doesn’t speak but extensive medical tests have proven there is nothing physiologically wrong with her. She is home schooled and cared for full time by her mother Suzette, an intelligent and creative woman who is sadly a prisoner to a debilitating illness, severe Chrohn’s disease. Hanna idolises her father and hates her mother. She hates her mother so much, that she deliberately hurts her when her father is not home. But her manipulations, mind games and physical attacks go beyond a naughty child, even beyond a child with special needs. Hanna is deeply disturbed, as bat shit crazy as they come, and my face was in a permanent shocked expression for the entirety of this novel.
At first, I found Hanna’s sections suspended my belief somewhat. While her actions were consistent with a seven year old, some of her thought processes seemed too adult. However, as the novel progressed, I became more convinced of the validity of these thoughts in relation to someone in her mental state. More light was cast on this later in the novel by Hanna’s child psychologist, and once you begin to regard her as nothing like a regular seven year old child, everything becomes more credible, and a whole lot more terrifying. Hanna’s brain is wired differently, she’s incapable of normal emotions, devoid of empathy. Even her love for her father is odd, more obsessive fantasy than real emotion. Hanna’s sections were written so cleverly, showing how much of a child she was in equal measure against the very un-childlike true nature she was harbouring.
“Daddy left early. Hanna had set the soft chimes of her alarm, because she and Marie-Anne had some thinking to do before Mommy woke up, and she heard him going down the stairs. It was a tremendously good sign and bode well for her plan: it might take time for Mommy to bleed to death.”
I’m not going to tell you who Marie-Anne is. But suffice to say, Marie-Anne in itself is evidence of the extent of Hanna’s flimsy grasp on reality. The most utterly terrifying thing about Hanna was how intelligent she was, smart enough to fool her father for so long, and smart enough to realise later on that she would need to fool others down the track as well.
I tried very hard initially to dislike Alex for how much Hanna had him wrapped around her little finger but I couldn’t maintain this at all. It was entirely credible that he would think the best of his daughter. His contact with her was limited to evenings between dinner and bed and weekends where he spent much time with her without Suzette, Hanna’s preferred and ideal situation. But as Hannah’s attempts on her mother’s life escalated, along with her displays of violent behaviour towards others, Alex was in a position to begin to doubt his daughter, a painful process that was well documented by Zoje Stage. Likewise, Suzette grappled with so much guilt over Hanna; had she inadvertently done something to Hanna in her formative years, had she not loved her enough, or loved her too much, had her own illness influenced her parenting of Hanna in a negative way; the guilt for Suzette was crushing and she was well past the point where she was capable of seeing herself as blameless. Her self-worth was shattered, it was deeply sad, and I admired Alex in his role as husband to Suzette, he was devoted to her and unwavering in this, despite his inner turmoil over Hanna.
In as much as Baby Teeth is a psychological thriller, it’s also a deeply moving domestic drama about two parents coming together at a crisis point within their family, recognising the need to unite, even if it means severing from their own daughter. There were some interesting themes explored around mental health, and how as parents, we need to consider what’s best for the child without mitigating real concerns for public safety. The question is raised, that if a child needed treatment for cancer, would a parent hesitate, yet with a mental illness, there is a reluctance to take the extreme pathway to committal in an institution. In many ways, Baby Teeth elevates itself out of the flash pan of entertainment that thrillers often fall into, asserting itself as a chilling, yet entirely thought provoking read on parenting a dangerous child. I reserved all judgement for Suzette and Alex; in fact, I’m still amazed Suzette didn’t leave, or worse, kill Hanna. Baby Teeth is a crackling good read, an incredible debut from an author to watch.
“She couldn’t tell him how the day had turned her thoughts toward the apocalyptic. The walls were crumbling. Hanna would shake the house until Suzette lay beneath the rubble, buried alive. And the word psychopath had come from Alex’s own lips, like maybe it was a thought he harboured, even as he defended his daughter. Maybe it was too late. Maybe no one could help Hanna. But what did that mean – for any of them?”
July 15, 2018
New Release Book Review: Return to Roseglen by Helene Young
About the Book:
A moving and insightful family drama about three generations coming to terms with the family matriarch facing her final days.
At times like these families should be coming together, not tearing each other apart.
On her remote North Queensland cattle station, Ivy Dunmore is facing the end of her days. Increasingly frail, all she holds dear is threatened not just by crippling drought, but by jealousy and greed – and that’s from within her own family.
Can Felicity, who’s battling her own crisis as her fiftieth birthday approaches, protect her mother and reunite her family under the homestead’s faded iron roof? Or will sibling rivalries erupt and long-held secrets from the past break a family in crisis?
From award-winning Australian author Helene Young comes a story about family fractures and feuds in later life – and about loved ones being there for each other when it matters the most.
My Thoughts:
I feel incredibly lucky right now, our Australian women writers are producing so many excellent novels that I really am spoiled for choice. Return to Roseglen, the latest release by Helene Young, is no exception to this. It’s quite rare for me to read a nearly 400 page novel over the course of one afternoon and evening, but with Return to Roseglen, not only could I not put this novel down, there was no way I was going to bed without knowing how the story was going to pan out. It’s a brilliant novel, one of the best contemporary stories I have read in a long time.
Helene explores several issues relevant to older women within Return to Roseglen, the most pertinent of these being elder abuse. Right from the first page, my heart was being squeezed over Ivy’s predicament with her son Ken. As the novel progressed, and Ken’s liberties stretched into obvious abuse, I was so angry and overcome with sadness for Ivy.
“The thought that had been growing, building like a thunderhead, reared up again. She had become powerless. It was a terrifying feeling. It wasn’t just about leaving a home she loved, or losing her independence or any of the other things she complained about. It was far more elemental. She was terrified of no longer making decisions for herself, no longer controlling her world.”
Helene has a special way of giving an authentic voice to each of her characters. With Georgina and Felicity, I felt very much a part of their stories just as I did with Ivy. In particular, I found myself completely invested in Felicity’s challenges as an older woman facing divorce and the prospect of having to start over so late in life. I also really felt such a well of sympathy for Georgina with regards to her strained relationship with Ivy. Helene portrays the history between Ivy and Georgina with truth and understanding, with neither woman blameless nor completely at fault. Ella, Felicity’s daughter, completed the picture of the women in this family to perfection. The dynamics between each of the women were fresh and realistic, giving a true bird’s eye view of a regular family struggling to deal with major changes.
In the background of this story is a family secret that has the power to unleash a whole lot of pain, not only for the members of this family but also for the community they are a part of. The foreshadowing of this was woven neatly into the plot with precise reveals throughout. Helene deftly demonstrates with this storyline the devastating repercussions family obligation can have on not only those immediately affected, but on subsequent generations as well. I also appreciated the way Helene broached the issue of the roles of women on the land, challenging age old perceptions about women inheriting the land and the notion that women are farmer’s wives, not the farmers themselves. I’m seeing this issue crop up in rural fiction more and more and it’s a valid issue that deserves as much attention as it can get.
All in all, you would be hard pressed to find a better contemporary Australian story than Return to Roseglen. It’s an engaging family drama that taps into some serious and highly relevant social issues that so many people would be able to relate to. Be warned though, once you start reading, you’ll find it a challenge to stop!
July 14, 2018
New Release Book Review: Invitation to a Bonfire by Adrienne Celt
About the Book:
A seductive, sensual and sinister love triangle set in 1930s America and inspired by the infamous Nabokov marriage.
Zoya Andropova, a young Russian refugee, finds herself in an elite New Jersey boarding school. Having lost her family, her home and her sense of purpose, Zoya struggles to belong, a task made more difficult by her new country’s paranoia about Soviet spies.
When she meets charismatic fellow Russian émigré Leo Orlov – whose books Zoya has obsessed over for years – everything seems to change. But she soon discovers that Leo is bound by the sinister orchestrations of his brilliant wife, Vera, and that their relationship is far more complex than Zoya could ever have imagined.
My Thoughts:
“My mother told me to take cues from my betters. Learn their habits, and track them like deer in a live wood. Keep watch of their movements, and, if it helps, imagine you’ve tied a line of bright yarn to one ankle to make their path clear.”
There’s a very definite Talented Mr. Ripley feel to this novel, and while I will acknowledge it was clever in its execution, for me, it didn’t quite reach the suspense and sophistication of this great predecessor.
The novel itself is told in the form of a journal, written by Zoya, who is clearly working her way towards a heavy confession. But she takes so long to get to the point, giving us her entire life story, painting a picture of a naive, yet morally corrupt young woman, an orphan and refugee of the Russian revolution of the 1920s. We were over halfway through the novel before she even meets the object of her desire, Leo, an author she admires who seduces her with little effort. That he was married didn’t faze Zoya at all, a character flaw that could be added to her many others. She was a passive person, relishing bodily harm inflicted upon her by others, yet oddly obsessive, particularly when it came to Leo’s wife, Vera. Zoya encountered Vera a single time when they were girls still in Russia, at a scout meeting. They never saw each other again until meeting over Leo, they never even properly spoke during this one time, and yet Zoya seemed convinced they had a connection, a lasting bond. She was an intensely insular woman, and from the impression I formed from reading her journal, I was not convinced she had the smarts, nor the gumption, to pull off the heist that she did. Perhaps this was part of the manipulation; was the journal merely a tool for misdirection in place of the confessional tome she led us to believe it was from the start? This seems unlikely, but you never know (and I probably never will!).
Interspersed with these journal entries were a series of letters from Leo to his wife Vera, displaying a level of passion towards his wife, almost a reverence, that was inconsistent with the impression he gave to Zoya. But Leo was a liar, as all people who cheat on their spouses are, so perhaps he was lying to both women: to Zoya in person and to Vera in the letters; most likely he was. A third narration was offered via public documents, presenting an investigative feel to the novel. In terms of its arrangement, I enjoyed the way this novel was set up. It was a unique form of story telling and gave me plenty of opportunity to test my doubts. Adrienne Celt writes very well and I particularly enjoyed Zoya’s recollections of Russia and the way of life within the midst of the revolution in the 1920s.
“The market, chaotic and jumbled as the best of them are, was also a good place to find back-alley action if you knew where to look. You might see, for instance, people trading secrets, people handing off illegal goods or evading tariffs, a whispered conversation followed by a man reaching into a pile of potatoes and pulling out a bottle of scotch. Illicit texts sewn into the spines of Party histories, photographic proof of murders tucked into the pocket of a tailored coat.”
All in all, Invitation to a Bonfire was an entertaining read. My lack of faith in Zoya as a credible mastermind is no reflection on my opinion of the author’s ability to create an engaging drama of volatility, despair and desire. Many will find this to be an excellent read. Enjoy and judge for yourself!
