Review: The Briar Club (by Kate Quinn)

 My Rating: 4.5 stars

 

As I continue to work my way through my toppling summer reading TBR, I’ve been trying to prioritize works by my favorite authors first and foremost.  Last week, I finished the latest new release by Liz Moore (which I loved) and this week, it’s Kate Quinn’s turn.  I’ve read and loved most of Quinn’s 20^th century historical novels and her newest work, The Briar Club, is of course no exception.  This time around, Quinn takes on 1950s America at the height of McCarthy’s Red Scare, with both the Korean War as well as the aftermath of WWII playing minor roles in the backgrounds of a few of the characters.  At the center of the story is the Briarwood House, an all-female boardinghouse in Washington D.C., where, on Thanksgiving Day 1954, a murder has just taken place and the police are on-site investigating.  As the police get ready to interview witnesses (of whom there are many – the tenants of the boardinghouse as well as various friends and relatives), we are taken back through the past 4 years leading up to this point, starting from the day that mysterious widow Grace March moves into the closet-like room on the top floor and starts a Thursday night supper club that ends up drawing her eclectic mix of neighbors together.

 

The structure of the story is a unique one – in between a narrative that alternates between the perspectives of each of the characters where we learn their varying backstories, there are short interstitial sections that return us again and again to the present storyline in 1954, each time revealing more clues about the murder currently being investigated.  All these threads converge into an unexpected plot twist in the end that actually had me going back through some of the chapters trying to understand how I missed some of the clues that were staring me in the face. Also, one of the things I found different about this novel compared to Quinn’s previous ones is that the historical elements were more subtle, blended seamlessly into the various characters’ backstories to the point that you kind of have to pay close attention in order to notice them.  In this regard, Quinn’s Author Note – which she deliberately puts at the end of the book because it reveals spoilers from the story – is a must-read, as it provides much of the historical context for both the story as well as the characters.

 

Those who’ve read Quinn’s previous historical novels will notice that she went in a slightly different direction with this one (both story and structure-wise), but one aspect that’s a constant with her works is the focus on strong yet flawed female protagonists and the friendships (as well as rivalries) that are formed as the story progresses.  It is also worth mentioning that the tone of this novel overall is much lighter than that of Quinn’s past works, with some subtle humor interspersed throughout the story that is not usually present in her other novels.  The biggest indication of this, in my opinion, exists in the interstitial sections from the “present” 1954 timeline, which are all told from the perspective of the Briarwood boarding house (yes, you read that right – the house actually narrates those portions of the story) in contrast to the rest of the chapters which are told from the actual characters’ perspectives.  I found this narrative structure quite interesting and in this case, it worked well for the story that Quinn was trying to tell.

 

I definitely enjoyed this one, though admittedly, it’s not my favorite of Quinn’s novels (which has more to do with me than her, as this particular historical setting – 1950s America, specifically Washington D.C. amidst McCarthyism – is one that I’ve never been too keen on).  With that said, the writing is brilliant (as expected), but what blew me away the most is how Quinn wrote her characters – every single character has a distinctive personality as well as a unique backstory to match, yet the way the characters interact with each other when they come together as a group felt so natural.  These are characters that, when I got to the end of the story, I honestly did not want to part with and would’ve absolutely been happy reading more about them -- if Quinn ever decides to continue any of these characters’ stories in future works, I am totally there for it!

 

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: The Twilight Garden (by Sara Nisha Adams)

My Rating: 4 stars

I had read Sara Nisha Adams's debut novel The Reading List for book club over a year ago and really enjoyed it.  During the author talk for that book, Adams mentioned that her next book would be about a community with a shared garden, which of course, turned out to be this book, her sophomore novel entitled The Twilight Garden. While I have to admit that I enjoyed her debut much more, I still found quite a few things that I liked with this new book, with the first and foremost of those being the characters.  I couldn't help loving the entire Stoke Newington community and all its interesting residents — it felt like it would be a dream to live among them and to be able to share in such a beautiful garden (though minus the foxes please).

Told in somewhat of a dual timeline format (though also divided into 4 parts based on the seasons), the story alternates between the perspectives of Winston and Bernice starting in 2018 — the neighbors live in Numbers 77 and 79 in a townhouse complex on Eastbourne Road (in Stoke Newington, London).  The two houses have a garden that is shared among them (a non-negotiable written into the housing contract).  The garden is in a state of disrepair after being neglected for years, which might as well be fine since the two neighbors can't seem to get along anyway and are constantly arguing with each other.  Winston is an immigrant from India who came to London hoping to fulfill his parents' dream for him to be successful and happy, but instead, he quit his steady job in finance and works instead for his neighbors Sal and Angela in their shop (though they treat him lovingly, like their own son); on top of that, Winston's relationship with his partner Lewis is on shaky ground.  At the same time, he is forced to deal with his bossy new neighbor, Bernice, who just moved into the house next door with her 10 year old son Sebastian, finally on her own after separating from her ex-husband Simon.  The two neighbors seem to be at odds from the start, arguing over everything under sun, but especially over the shared garden;  one day, when Bernice tells Winston off and tries to claim the garden for herself, he decides to start clearing the garden and tending to it out of defiance.  Bernice's son Seb slowly gets to know Winston and soon enough, he is helping his new friend in the garden (much to Bernice's chagrin).  Over the course of a couple months, as Bernice joins her son in helping out with the garden, she begins to understand Winston better and they eventually become friends. Interspersed throughout the Winston-Bernice storyline is a narrative that flashes back to 40 plus years prior, starting in the 1970s, with the story of Maya and Alma, who were the previous residents of Numbers 77 and 79. Maya and her husband Prem are also of Indian descent, but arrived to London from Kenya, where most of their family still reside.  Alma is an interesting character — someone whom all the residents love and fear at the same time. Maya and Alma — two women with such opposite personalities (and also from vastly different backgrounds) become fast friends and even turn their shared garden into a community garden where all their friends and neighbors frequently gathered.  One of the things I really appreciated about this structure was how some of the characters ended up appearing in both narratives, which meant that we got to see them evolve and grow — as a reader who loves character-driven stories, I'm always game for watching characters develop and evolve throughout a story (even though this one was done nonlinearly).

This heartwarming read about friendship and community also had a poignancy to it that I wasn't quite expecting — to the point that I found myself feeling a lump in my throat at certain parts.  Though perhaps I should not have been surprised, given that the overall tone of this second novel is in a similar vein to The Reading List (which was especially poignant and moving).  While this is a book I definitely recommend, I do have to warn that it is very much a "slow-burn" type of story where there is not much of a plot to speak of and nothing "exciting" (depending on one's definition of course) ever really happens.  And those who aren't into gardening might find the detailed descriptions of various plants and flowers and gardening activities a tad less interesting (though thankfully, Adams incorporated these details in a way that wasn't overwhelming).  

Overall, I enjoyed this one for what it was — a moving, emotionally resonant story with endearing, lovable characters (no villains in this story, which is refreshing…oh except maybe the foxes?)  doing everyday things and dealing with everyday issues.  The narrative does meander a bit though, especially in the middle section (the book overall probably didn't need to be as long as it was), but luckily it didn't lose me. I'm definitely looking forward to what Sara Nisha Adams writes next!

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: River East, River West (by Aube Rey Lescure)

 

My Rating: 4 stars

When I finished reading this book, my first thought was that this was an interesting read and very different from what I initially expected going into it (my second thought was: This is a debut?  It certainly didn’t read like one!).  Given my background, I naturally gravitate toward immigrant stories (especially the ones involving immigrants from Asian countries to Western ones), where I know I will encounter experiences similar to my own – so when I read the summary for this one and saw that it would be a reversal of the traditional east-to-west immigrant story, I was definitely intrigued.  Though having said that, I will admit I was also a bit concerned, as I associate “west-to-east immigrant narrative” with “story about the expatriate community in Asia” – as someone who came from a place with a long history of colonialism (the former British colony of Hong Kong), I am more than familiar with how the expat community operates and to be honest, it’s one of my least favorite things to read about (I guess you can say that I’m sick of picking up a book about an Asian country expecting to read about the local community and culture, only to find out it’s actually about expat shenanigans told from an expat perspective, with very little about the culture of the country itself).  Add to that the fact that I’m also not a fan of “rich people behaving badly” stories (which is what many expat stories essentially boil down to), so of course, I was quite weary going into this one and was bracing myself for a potentially unpleasant reading experience.  While there did indeed end up being quite a bit of “unpleasantness” in the story (those who’ve read this book will know what I mean), I was actually surprised by how different this one turned out from the typical expat stories that tend to glamorize the expat lifestyle.  In her podcast interview with Books & Boba, the author Aube Rey Lescure talked at length about her inspiration for this book (I absolutely recommend listening to the interview after reading the book, as she provides some great insights and I actually appreciate the book a lot more than I would have otherwise) – one of the things she said that struck a chord with me is that she wrote this book not as a glamorization of the expat lifestyle, but rather, as an “anti-expat takedown” of sorts, highlighting the impact that the presence of these expats, with their indifference and condescension (and excessive, indulgent, high-riding lifestyles), had on the local Chinese community.  Thinking back through the story after hearing Lescure say this, I see now that was the same sense I had gotten while reading this one, which is probably why I was able to appreciate this story more than other expat stories I’ve read.

In her interview, Lescure describes her book as a coming of age / family drama / social novel set in China, which is definitely an apt description.  In her discussion with the hosts about this being an inversion of the usual east-to-west immigrant story, Lescure said that she couldn’t write the typical China to America immigrant story because that wasn’t her experience.  Instead of being a story about Chinese immigrants in America, this one revolves around an American expat Sloan raising her biracial daughter Alva in modern-day (2007-2008 time period) Shanghai, China.  Lescure said that her mother (who is French) separated with her father (who is Chinese) and raised her as a single mom in Shanghai – she went to the local Chinese public school for 8 years, then transferred to what she called a “budget” version of the international school for 2 years; significantly, her mother was a “renegade” who didn’t want to be part of the expat community, so their lifestyle was an unrooted one where they spent much of her childhood moving across Shanghai, renting one apartment after another.  Throughout the story, Lescure included many cultural details and nuances to capture what her experience of growing up in Shanghai as a biracial teenager was like – she especially wanted to capture the granularity of her Chinese school experience and show how different it was from the international schools that the expat kids went to (fun Easter egg for those who’ve read the book:  Lescure said that the test question scenario was from real life – she had answered that exact question the same way and got marked wrong…it was a moment of revelation for her about the education system in China).  Something that Lescure did clarify was that even though certain elements of the story were based on her own experience, the sections about the expat community and lifestyle she actually did not experience, as those were based on what she heard from people she knew. 

One of the things that stood out with this story is the way Lescure juxtaposed the two entirely different worlds – the nuances of the local Chinese community in which she grew up versus the glitz and glamor of the expat community – presenting both realistically to the point that it felt immersive.  At the same time, she also interweaves the story of Lu Fang, the Chinese businessman whom Alva’s mom Sloan marries at the beginning of the story – the dual timeline narrative alternates between Alva’s perspective in the present (2007-2008) and Lu Fang’s perspective starting in 1985 and spanning decades, with both timelines ultimately converging in the present, in a way that I honestly did not see coming.  In a sense, this story isn’t just about Alva’s coming of age, but also of Lu Fang’s, which I felt was an interesting way of structuring the story.  I’ve mentioned in other reviews that with immigrant stories, we oftentimes get to hear from the immigrant child’s perspective, but rarely from the adults / parents’ perspectives, so I appreciated that with this story, Lescure chose to go in a different direction and give us Lu Fang’s story as well.  For me, this added emotional depth to the story, especially at the end, when we find out some of the things that happened to Lu Fang and the impact this has on his relationship with Sloan and Alva. 

Overall, this was a worthwhile read, though some parts will not only be difficult to stomach, but will also tick some people off (I certainly felt angry and frustrated with some of the things that happen) – of course, this means that there will be trigger warnings galore.  Also, the characters aren’t too likable in here – the kids I could empathize with, but the adults (specifically the parents) I honestly could not stand (except for maybe Lu Fang at certain points in the story).  Although with that said, after hearing Lescure describe her purpose for writing the characters the way she did and what she was trying to achieve by doing so, it did make me dislike them a little less.

The unlikable characters and some of the plot points aside though, another aspect of this book that I really enjoyed were the various cultural references (especially the Chinese ones), as well as the untranslated Chinese characters and phrases sprinkled throughout the story.  In her interview, Lescure talks about this and mentions that the meanings of most of the Chinese words can be picked up from context (this is true, as majority of the Chinese was either translated or explained), but there are a few instances where only readers who know the Chinese language will pick up on (like the scene near the end with the Chinese poem, which was actually my favorite scene from the story).  I always enjoy coming across things I recognize in books that I read – it makes the reading experience more fun and engaging (and the difficult aspects a tad more tolerable).

If you decide to pick this one up, I definitely recommend also listening to the author’s Books & Boba interview, as it puts the entire book in greater perspective.  Like I mentioned earlier, I came to appreciate the book on a much different level than I would have otherwise.

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

 

Review: The Leftover Woman (by Jean Kwok)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

Now that I have a little bit of a break from the demands of work and school, I am hoping to get caught back up on the new releases and book club reads that I had been neglecting over the past month.  One of those new releases is Jean Kwok's latest novel The Leftover Woman, which came out earlier in the month.  I had read Kwok's previous novel Searching for Sylvie Lee several years back and had really enjoyed it, so of course this book, her newest work, was highly anticipated. In the end, Kwok definitely didn't disappoint, as she delivered a solid, compelling story that proved to be both culturally resonant as well as thought-provoking -  though not without a few flaws.

At the center of the story are two women from completely opposite worlds.  Jasmine Yang is a young Chinese woman from a poor rural village who enters into an arranged marriage at 14 to a man years older than her. After suffering several miscarriages, Jasmine finally gives birth to a daughter, but not too long afterwards, is told that the baby died.  Jasmine is devastated — until she finds out that her husband lied to her and actually gave the baby up for adoption so that they could try for a son under China's strict One Child Policy. Determined to find her daughter, Jasmine plans an escape from her abusive marriage and eventually lands in New York through the help of "snakeheads" whom she has to figure out a way to pay back.  Meanwhile, in New York, Rebecca Whitney is an editor at a glamorous publishing house who is living the dream life — she has a prestigious family name and the accompanying wealth and privilege that comes with it, and she lives in a beautiful house with a handsome, talented husband aa well as an adopted daughter whom she adores.  But balancing a high profile career with the demands of marriage and motherhood is not easy and when a work-related scandal breaks out, Rebecca finds her perfect life slowly starting to unravel.  The story is told alternately from the perspectives of these two very different women whose lives end up colliding in unexpected ways.

I really appreciated the premise of this story, especially Jasmine's storyline about her struggles fleeing an archaic, patriarchal system and the choices she had to make once she was in America trying to find her daughter. Not that I didn't like Rebecca's storyline, but I just felt that it was less necessary — I would've liked to see Jasmine's story explored more, as there were opportunities there that were only touched upon.  I will be honest in saying that I preferred Jasmine's story arc and the direction that Kwok went with it (though there was potential for more as I mentioned earlier), whereas Rebecca's story arc felt typical of other stories that we've read before.

Plot-wise, I felt that the first half of the story dragged a bit and the buildup was slow — I definitely preferred the second half better, though the ending also felt too rushed (and there were some plot holes that weren't too believable). Despite the pacing issues though, I enjoyed this one overall — the cultural aspects were done well and the "twist" did take me by surprise (though it didn't blow me away to the point that I keep thinking about it like I've done with other twists).  

I don't want to say too much, since this IS a mystery / thriller after all, so it's best to go in knowing as little as possible (though I have to say that the story was more character-driven than plot-driven, so from that aspect, the thriller element was less prominent).  I definitely recommend picking this one up, especially if you're looking for a story that has mystery / thriller elements, but also emotional depth and poignancy.  I can't wait to see what Kwok comes out with next!

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: The Phoenix Crown (by Kate Quinn and Janie Chang)

My Rating:  4 stars

As a result of busy season at work and school starting for me, finding time for leisure reading has been quite difficult the past few weeks. Even so, I was able to squeeze in several ARCs that I had lined up to read in September, which, given the timing, I'm glad I was able to finish.

One of those ARCs is The Phoenix Crown, a new collaborative novel by two popular authors known for writing brilliant historical fiction: Kate Quinn and Janie Chang. I've been excited to read this book since I first heard about it earlier in the year, not only because of the interesting premise, but also because both authors have separately written works that I've loved, so of course, I went into this one with high hopes.  And in the end, it definitely did not disappoint.

Despite what the book summary might allude to, the narrative here isn't actually a dual timeline, as majority of the story takes place in 1906 — it is only in the last quarter of the book or so that the story fast forwards 6 years to 1912.  While the plot was not as riveting as I expected (a few scenes did feel a tad bit contrived), the historical details were superbly done — of course not a surprise given that both Quinn and Chang are established historical fiction authors.  One of the things I enjoyed most though was following the character arcs of the four women at the center of the story, all of whom had distinct personalities as well as fascinating backstories — though the character I would've been most interested in reading more about was Feng Suling, the skilled embroideress who hailed from San Francisco's Chinatown in the aftermath of the Chinese Exclusion Act.  The Author's Note at the end of the book is definitely a must-read, as both Quinn and Chang provide quite a bit of historical context for both the characters (several of whom were real people or based on real people) and the various events covered in the story.  It was also in the Author's Note that I learned about a reference in the story to Chang's previous novel The Porcelain Moon, which I had read earlier this year and really enjoyed (for me, its always fun to discover throwbacks and references to authors' prior works).

I don't want to say too much, as I don't want to give anything away, so I will just put my name in the hat to recommend reading this (and hope for another future collaboration between these two fantastic authors).  One thing to note is that the publication date on this book seems to have changed, as I originally had this as coming out this month (September 2023), but I recently noticed that there is now a finalized publication date in February 2024 (I mention this in case it matters for those interested in reading this one).  While waiting for another collaboration, I'm glad that both authors have plenty of works in their own respective oeuvres that I can continue to explore!

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: Watch Us Shine (by Marisa de los Santos)

My Rating: 4 stars

When I first picked this book up, I had no idea that it was part of Marisa de los Santos's popular series Love Walked In. This worried me initially, as I hadn't read any of the other books in the series, so I was afraid I would be lost without the backstory or that I wouldn't be able to connect with the characters.  Luckily, this one turned out to be a standalone story that didn't require any knowledge from previous books (though I've heard that it's recommended to read the other books in the series for the best emotional effect).  With that said, even though I wasn't familiar with this particular series or its characters prior to diving into it, one thing I was familiar with was the writing, as I had read de los Santos's previous standalone novel I'd Give Anything and remember being smitten by how beautiful and heartfelt the writing was.  My sentiments toward that book very much apply here as well — the memorable, relatable characters who may act a bit quirky at times, but overall are tremendously endearing; the themes of family, love, forgiveness, truth, regrets, and relationships in all its various forms;  the "messiness" of complicated family dynamics where each member might not agree with or understand one another, but still love each other regardless;  and of course, the emotional nuances that permeate the story, woven into the narrative in a way that felt seamless and effortless.

De los Santos has a way of tackling difficult topics with empathy and grace, which I admire and appreciate.  Her characters are put through some incredibly hard things, and sometimes the decisions they make I might not necessarily agree with, but yet I couldn't help rooting for them wholeheartedly.  I loved all of the characters in here, but I especially connected with Martha, specifically in her role as protector (in this case, of her sister Eleanor), which ends up taking more of a toll on her than anyone could've anticipated. Martha's story was heart wrenching, yet rendered so magnanimously, with an undercurrent of hope and compassion that added emotional nuance, but was never heavy-handed.  

There was actually so much to unpack with this moving, poignant story that it's virtually impossible to do the story justice in the short space of a review.  I definitely recommend picking this one up, especially if you've read the other books in the series.  Over the course of just this book, Cornelia, Eleanor, and their large, extended family already endeared themselves to me to the point that I definitely want to read the previous books in the series so that I can get further acquainted with them.

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: Yellowface (by R.F. Kuang)

My Rating:  3.5 stars



I'm honestly not sure how to feel about this one.  Part of me wants to approach this from the satire angle, which helps me to not take this story so seriously and thereby enables me to tamp down my frustration and anger at the plethora of "problematic" actions and behaviors of all the characters in the story. The other part wants to approach this from the angle of a necessary commentary on the dark and ruthless underbelly of the publishing industry, the toxicity of social media, the rise of online book communities, and of course, the most most front and center hot button topic in recent years — racism and social justice. Regardless of which angle though, one thing I do need to make clear is that I'm approaching this book from the position of not having read any of R.F. Kuang's previous works and also not having much knowledge of her background or history as an author.  I feel this is an important distinction to make because, just glancing through the mixed bag of reviews and ratings on Goodreads, it's pretty obvious that this book is going to provoke strong reactions in readers that will vary greatly  depending on each person's background, experiences, and also familiarity with the author and/or her works. (As a side note, it seems that most of the negative reviews of this book on Goodreads seem to focus on the "meta" aspect of the story as it pertains to Kuang's own background and interactions related to her previous works — while these observations may be completely valid, this was an angle that did not concern me given my lack of familiarity with the author, so it won't be a focus of this review).

Kuang actually covers a lot of ground with this book in terms of topics — in addition to the commentary on hot button issues mentioned earlier, the story also explores cultural appropriation, colonialism, systemic racism, cyber bullying, the current political environment, censorship, toxic friendships, recent debates about who should be allowed to tell which stories, etc. While so many of these topics are important and should be brought up for discussion, I have to admit that it felt like too much all at once, to the point that, at times, I felt I was being bombarded with one issue after another after another, making it difficult to process my thoughts (which, to me, was necessary given how "heavy" so many of the topics were).  I honestly think that the story would've been a less overwhelming experience (and hence a more powerful and effective story) if it had focused less on trying to cover all bases and instead, focused on only a few topics to explore more in depth.   

Aside from the subject matter, the other thing that made this book a difficult read, at least for me, was the fact that all of the characters in the story were hugely unlikable, with the main protagonist June Hayward (aka Juniper Song) being particularly loathsome and pathetic (it also didn't help that the entire story was narrated from June's first person point of view, so we were stuck listening to her endless excuses and whining the whole time).  It's honestly hard to enjoy a story when you hate the main character and have no one else to root for because all the supporting characters were also annoying.

As I mentioned earlier, this is a provocative story with so many topics that could actually be debated ad nauseam and probably we would never be able to come to an agreement on anything.  One of the central issues that the story dives into — and the one most resonant for me — is the idea of who gets to tell what story.  In theory, I don't have a problem with an author "going outside their lane" so to speak — in this instance, a white author writing an Asian story — as long as it's done correctly, which in my book means doing so respectfully and as authentically as possible (though yes, there is also the argument about how this takes the opportunity away from a marginalized author to tell the same story, which I also agree with, but that's a whole separate debate altogether and not really the focus of this story).  But I think what happens in Yellowface actually goes beyond this (who should get to tell the story) — technically, it's not about whether June, who is white, should be allowed to tell a story about Chinese history and culture, as the fact of the matter is that the original story was written by her friend Athena Liu (who is Chinese).  The real issue here is that, when Athena dies unexpectedly, June "takes" the manuscript and publishes it as her own.  Sure, June makes a lot of edits to the manuscript and even "rewrites" large chunks of it, since Athena's version was unfinished (this is important because June clings to this throughout the story as her main "justification" for why the story belongs to her and hence she did nothing wrong).  Even so, June had the choice to go down the proper path with this — that is, to credit Athena for coming up with the story and writing majority of it, and to attach herself as collaborator in finishing and editing it (there is a scene where June actually considers doing this).  But she deliberately chooses not to and that, friends, is the crux of the problem.  To me, once June made that choice, nothing else mattered — I no longer cared what excuses or justifications she gave (believe me, she gave PLENTY), or what "factually" happened or didn't happen (i.e.: "I didn't mean to take it, I was just curious" or "I never 'pretended' to be Chinese so it's not cultural appropriation" or "Athena is a bad person because she stole from me first", etc). At that point, it was hard not to view June in a negative light for the rest of the story.  

Of course, it probably also doesn't help June's case that I'm Chinese myself and am intimately familiar with the language and culture, which means that I understood most of the nuances in Athena's manuscript, so June's actions come across as even more egregious in my view.  There was one passage in particular that got me seething mad (yes, THAT passage in which June's complete ignorance of Chinese culture is put on full display) — thinking about it now though, it strikes me that perhaps this may have been intentional on the author's part, as there is no way that anyone with even a passing knowledge of Chinese language and culture wouldn't be triggered by the "edits" that June makes to the script.  Speaking of which, the other thing that really bothered me was June's attitude — specifically the utter delight and glee with which she "changed" Athena's creation. The entire section that details June's "editing sessions" was honestly very painful to read — not just from the perspective of someone who knows the culture, but also from the perspective of a writer who has spent countless hours on a project, only to see someone else come in and happily "butcher" it.  And then, to add further insult to injury, there's this passage, where June's editor Daniella tells her at the end of the sessions: "You are so wonderfully easy to work with. Most authors are pickier about killing their darlings" to which June's immediate reaction is "This makes me beam. I want my editor to like me. I want her to think I'm easy to work with, that I'm not a stubborn diva, that I'm capable of making any changes she asks for. It'll make her more likely to sign me on for future projects."  Needless to say, I wanted to punch June's lights out by that point (and this was only at the 15% mark in the story, unfortunately). 

Overall, in terms of literary merit, I feel that this book is definitely worth reading (and to some extent, it's actually a necessary read from the social commentary aspect), but like I said earlier, what the reading experience is going to be like will depend on how close you are to the subject matter.  Given my background, reading this book was obviously not a pleasant experience for me (hence why I rated this the way I did), but that does not mean others will feel the same way.  With that said, I do think that, with this book in particular, given so many triggering elements to it, the best course of action might be to check out as many reviews as possible (both positive and negative) before making the decision whether to pick it up.  I had heard that this book is actually a departure from R.F. Kuang's usual style and while I can't comment on that, I will say that the unpleasant experience with this one hasn't discouraged me from wanting to read her previous works.  I have both Babel and The Poppy Wars trilogy on my shelves and I do intend to read both at some point down the line.

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: The Porcelain Moon (by Janie Chang)

My Rating:  4.5 stars

Janie Chang's latest novel is a beautifully written story about a little-known piece of history:  the hundreds of thousands of Chinese laborers brought to Europe during the Great War.  These contracted workers — part of the Chinese Labor Corps (CLC) — didn't fight in the war directly, yet they were crucial in keeping the "machinery of war" running through their efforts in maintaining and rebuilding equipment such as tanks and weaponry, clearing out trenches, loading provisions onto boats to ship out to soldiers, etc. — even after the war, they played important roles in helping to clean up the battlefields and, in many instances, restore land that was taken during the war to its original use.  Oftentimes, they were also tasked with doing soul-destroying work such as clearing out decomposing corpses of humans and animals.  The commanding officers overseeing these workers were usually non-Chinese military personnel and misunderstandings were common due to lack of access to translators — many of the workers were either treated poorly or subject to harsh working conditions, especially the ones from the peasant class who were largely uneducated and illiterate, with little to no understanding of the local language and culture, so they couldn't relay their grievances or fight for their rights.  What's worse is that, later on, the contributions of these workers were largely wiped from the history books, with very little information about their efforts available even now.  Chang did a great job bringing this obscure history to light, with research that was both meticulous as well as intricate.  The author's note that detailed some of this research definitely should not be missed!

As far as the narrative goes, the story alternates between the two main female protagonists:  Camille, a Frenchwoman from an aristocratic family fallen on hard times, who tries desperately to escape from an abusive marriage; and Pauline, the illegitimate daughter of a traditional  Chinese family who is sent to France with her uncle and cousin to take care of the family's antiques store — two women who live very different lives, yet whose paths end up intersecting in a tremendous way.  I loved nearly all the characters in this story, but without a doubt, I resonated with Pauline the most.  In a culture where losing face was worse than death and being unfilial was an unforgivable sin subject to grave condemnation, Pauline's life had already been predetermined for her, and as a daughter (especially an illegitimate one), the only choice she had was to obey.  But yet, those circumstances didn't stop her from trying to rise above her fate, which in itself, was hugely admirable.  Though my own family background is quite different from Pauline's, the cultural obligations and conventions that she was bound by were more than familiar to me — which is why I couldn't help rooting for her character more than Camille's, even though overall, I was deeply invested in both women's stories.  

This was my first historical fiction novel of 2023 and I'm so glad I got to start off with a book I loved, especially with this particular genre being one of my  absolute favorites.  I had actually read Janie Chang's previous novel The Library of Legends back when it came out and while I appreciated the obscure history depicted in that story as well, I felt it leaned too much into the fantasy and romance elements at the expense of the historical portion. This newest work, The Porcelain Moon, is in an entirely different vein in my opinion, as it focused more on the historical and cultural elements and balanced both in a way that flowed seamlessly.

Janie Chang has two backlist titles that I'm interested in but haven't read yet — I'm hoping I will get a chance to read them some time soon.  What has me most excited though, is hearing that she is co-authoring a new book with Kate Quinn (one of my favorite historical fiction authors), which is scheduled for publication later this year (in the Fall) — I can't wait to read it!!

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.  

Review: All That’s Left Unsaid (by Tracey Lien)

My Rating:  5 stars

When I first read the premise for Tracey Lien's debut All That's Left Unsaid, I knew this was a book I wanted to read.  Comparisons to some of my favorite authors (Liz Moore, Celeste Ng, Brit Bennett) aside, I was intrigued by the case at the center of the story:  17-year-old Denny Tran attends a dinner at a local restaurant in Cabramatta, Australia (a suburb in Sydney) with his friends, but before the night is over, he is brutally murdered in plain sight of over a dozen witnesses, yet all of them claim not to have seen a thing.  The Tran family is devastated, but faced with an indifferent police force in a refugee enclave where the proliferation of drugs (specifically heroin) as well as violent crime have become commonplace, Denny's parents seem to have no other recourse but to accept the "bad luck" of their beloved son's murder.  But Denny's sister Ky refuses to let things simply get swept under the rug.  Desperate to assuage her feelings of guilt for leaving the family in order to pursue her own life in Melbourne (an act akin to "abandoning" the family and is severely frowned upon in traditional Asian households), Ky returns to Cabramatta and, after her brother's funeral, decides to seek out and interrogate each of the witnesses herself in order to find out the circumstances behind Denny's murder.  With each person she speaks to, Ky gets closer to understanding what happened to her brother, but at the same time, she discovers the myriad complexities and difficulties of navigating the path to justice and closure for her family in a community where its citizens are mostly resigned to their fates.

There was honestly so much to unpack with this story that it is impossible to cover every angle in a brief review such as this one (personally, I highlighted so many things in this book that were significant to me, it would take me pages and pages to parse all of it).  I will attempt to relay a few thoughts that stood out, but I encourage people to actually read this book in order to get the full experience.  

I do want to start off by saying that this book is technically incorrectly classified under mystery / thriller.  While it's true that the plot overall revolves around unraveling the "mysterious" circumstances behind Denny Tran's murder, it quickly becomes obvious (a chapter or so into the story, in fact) that his death is actually the trigger point for a deeply complicated and intricate exploration of community, society, class struggle, immigration, culture and assimilation, systemic racism, family bonds, parent-child relationships, generational trauma, mental illness, abuse, etc (and that's just scratching the surface).  The "mystery" itself was easy to figure out, which essentially rendered the ending anti-climactic, but the gut wrenching process of getting to that point was really the crux of what made this story work so well.  With its "social commentary" angle, I feel like this would've fit more appropriately into literary fiction, though from a time and place perspective — Cabramatta (which was an actual place in Australia) in the 1990s, during which time there truly was a heroin epidemic — there was also a historical element to the story as well that I didn't expect, but made the story even more compelling.

Before I go into talking about the characters, I wanted to comment on the title and structure. This book actually has one of the cleverest titles I've ever seen: it complements the book perfectly because when we peel back the layers, the story is essentially about "the many things that are left unsaid" by every character in the book — not just the witnesses from that night, but also the parents, Denny, and even Ky herself.  So in this sense, there is a deeper meaning to the title that can only be understood after reading and reflecting on the entire story.  Structure-wise, I love how the narrative alternated between various perspectives — sure, we got Ky's perspective primarily, but there were also chapters narrated from the perspectives of the witnesses as well as Ky's parents.  Through these chapters, we were able to get the backstories to the various characters, which helped us understand what ultimately drove each character's decision that fateful night.  Structuring the narrative this way not only made the story more powerful and poignant, it also helped make the characters realistic and relatable, which I felt was very important to this story overall.

Speaking of the characters, I truly appreciate the brilliant job that the author Tracey Lien did in the area of character development, especially with Ky and Minnie.  Reading this book was actually quite an emotional roller coaster for me because of the resonance I felt with the characters and so much of what they went through.  With Ky especially, I saw so much of myself in her — from her struggles with  identity and acceptance, to her analysis of her own shortcomings and insecurities, her feelings of anxiety related to the environment in which she grew up, and most significantly, her relationship with her mother.   I've always been drawn to stories about parent/child relationships, but those between Asian mothers and their daughters are especially resonant with me because of my cultural background and the hope that reading about these relationships will help me navigate the complex dynamic that exists there.

One of the other things I loved about this book was how, through the character of Ky (and Minnie to some extent), Lien so accurately expressed the realities of life for many Asian women like myself — daughters of immigrants (and/or refugees) who may or may not have been born in the Western countries where we grew up and currently live — and how many of the conflicts that we constantly deal with, be it the cultural expectations or the societal pressures that come with being Asian and female, greatly inform how we end up interacting with our parents (and with others as well).  I wanted to share the below passage from the book, which blew me away when I read it because it hit the nail on the head and made me feel "seen" in a way that so few books I've read in the past have been able to do.

"To anyone else, [his] reason would have been baffling. But Ky understood. She hated how well she now understood. After all, hadn't she kept every hurt she'd ever experienced from her own parents? Hadn't she hidden the bullying, the name-calling, the cruel acts of strangers, the times she'd been told to go back to where she came from, the ching-chongs, the pulled-back eyelids, the blondies with the Cabbage Patch Kids, the way she was forced to play the monster, the way she was asked why she couldn't just take a joke, the times she was told that Asian women were ugly, kinky, docile, crazy, nerdy, unworthy, the way she was dismissed by men, the way she was dismissed by white men, their comments about what Asian women were and weren't, what Asian women could or couldn't be, the way she smiled with her tongue pressed against her teeth even as an ache beat in tandem with her heart—hadn't she hidden all of that? And hadn't she lived her own ambitious, exciting, anxious, uncompromising life while knowing that she could never, ever, ever, ever tell her parents about what she had been through? Because knowing would break their hearts. Because she had to help them believe that their sacrifices had paid off. Because she had to help them believe that moving to a country where they didn't speak the language and weren't seen as individuals had been worth it. Because she had to convince them that they'd done right by their children, that no one had failed, that no one had been let down, that they were one of the lucky ones who'd followed the path and found success. It made perfect sense. You lied to protect. You lied because of love."

This is a book I definitely recommend and will likely want to re-read myself at some point. However, with that said, a word of warning that this is not going to be an easy read  — it is sad and heart wrenching, it presents truths about our society that may be difficult to face, and it may take you places that you would rather not be, especially with some of the things going on in the world at the moment.  But is is a worthwhile read — I would even say that it's a necessary read — for those who are up to it, of course.  This was a fantastic debut and I definitely look forward to what Tracey Lien has in store for us next.

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: Mika in Real Life (by Emiko Jean)

My Rating:  4.5 stars





What a delightful read!  In her newest book, author Emiko Jean brings us a poignant yet ultimately uplifting story about a woman who, after experiencing trauma and setbacks in her life, goes on a path of self-discovery that helps her to overcome her insecurities as well as better understand who she is "in real life."  

Mika Suzuki's life can only be described as "a mess" — she keeps getting fired from job after job, her love life is in shambles after a bad breakup with her latest boyfriend, she has a strained relationship with her traditional Japanese parents whom she can't help but perpetually disappoint, and she lives in a messy house with a potentially cracked ceiling that belongs to her eccentric but lovable best friend Hana (who, by the way, may or may not be a hoarder).  Oh and she's also broke and, as much as she hates doing it, has to repeatedly borrow money from her parents for basic daily necessities.  It is at this time, when she is at the lowest point of her life, that she receives a surprising phone call that catches her completely off guard — the call is from Penny, the daughter she had placed for adoption sixteen years ago.  Penny wants to get to know her birth mother (which is something Mika secretly yearns for as well) and so the two of them start slow, with phone calls and video calls every couple days.  In her curiosity about Mika's life, Penny asks a lot of questions, but Mika isn't keen on letting her daughter know about the sorry state of her own miserable existence, so she decides to embellish the facts about her life just a little.  But one lie leads to another and soon, Mika has fabricated an entire life that is opposite of the one she is actually living.  When Penny tells Mika that she wants to fly to Oregon (Penny and her adoptive father Thomas live in Ohio) to meet her, Mika panics — but luckily, her devoted friends come to the rescue and help her turn the fake life she created into a reality.  Will Mika be able to sustain these lies throughout the entire visit or will things eventually blow up in her face?  More importantly, what will become of the newfound but fragile relationship with her daughter? 

I honestly didn't expect this story to grab me as much as it did.  I'm usually not tremendously keen on romances (which I erroneously thought that's what this book would be), but the more I got into the story, the more I realized that's not what the book is about at all.  Sure, there is romance (and in case it matters for some, heads up that there are a few "spicy" scenes in here, though they are very brief), but the crux of the story is actually about the complexities of parent / child relationships, especially in mixed race families, which, for me, gave the story unexpected depth and meaning.  In juxtaposing the various parent / child relationships within the narrative — between Mika and her parents Hiromi and Shige, between Mika and her biological daughter Penny, between Penny and her adopted parents Thomas and Caroline — Emiko Jean explores the complicated dynamics of parental love and how it not only can manifest itself in different ways, but also can be heavily impacted by culture and upbringing.   This made the story relatable on so many levels, but for me specifically, what resonated most was Mika's relationship with her mother Hiromi, the nuances of which, having myself grown up in an immigrant household with traditional Asian parents, I also struggled with at some point — for example:  the emotional distance caused by lack of meaningful communication between family members, the cultural expectation to keep silent about matters deemed "shameful" to the family, the pressure to be successful in both life and career in order to "repay" the sacrifices that our parents made in choosing to immigrate here, the feelings of inadequacy and never being able to live up to their expectations, etc.  There's also the exploration of how that relationship impacts Mika's relationship with Penny, and the struggle with understanding better where her mother was coming from but at the same time, wanting to forge a different path with her own  daughter.

In addition to parent / child relationships and love in its different manifestations, the story also explores topics such as adoption, race and identity, interracial relationships, cultural expectations vs societal conventions, etc.  Even with the heavy topics however, the overall tone of the book was lighthearted and hopeful, with humor playing a significant role in the narrative.  In fact, that's one of the things that stood out the most for me — how Jean was able to strike such a perfect balance throughout the story between the serious and humorous elements without verging into melodramatic (not an easy feat with these types of stories).  I also loved the way the characters were rendered, especially Mika herself, who came across so realistically for me, with her insecurities and flaws and the various struggles in life that she has to deal with.  

This book surprised me in a good way and I'm really glad I read it.  Of course I definitely recommend this one, but with the caveat that each person's experience reading it will be different.  On that note, I also wanted to share this interview that Emiko Jean did, where she talks about her inspiration for this book — it’s a very insightful read: 

https://www.shondaland.com/inspire/a40799854/mika-in-real-life-captures-a-complicated-portrayal-of-a-mother-daughter-relationship/

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: Counterfeit (by Kirsten Chen)

My Rating:  4.5 stars



I started Kirsten Chen's new novel Counterfeit on Friday and it was so engrossing that I nearly finished it in one sitting. Well-written and cleverly-structured, the story revolves around two Chinese-American women, Winnie Fang and Ava Wong, who become involved in a scheme selling counterfeit luxury handbags.  As the story opens, it quickly becomes apparent that Ava is confessing her role in the scheme to a detective, while Winnie is somehow missing in action. Through Ava's confession, we learn both her backstory as well as Winnie's, with each chapter revealing more and more clues that help us eventually understand the course of events that led up to that moment.  Later on however, the story switches to Winnie's perspective and I will admit that, when I read her chapters, I started second-guessing some things that had been revealed earlier (and that's all I'm going to say about it — you will need to read the book for yourself to find out what I'm talking about).  The way the story was structured, plus the fast pace of the plot, definitely made for a fascinating read!

With all that said though, this wasn't just a superficial story about a counterfeit handbag business gone awry.  It actually went much deeper than that, as it also explored recent social, political, and economic issues such as anti-Asian sentiment, immigration and the American Dream, racism, the strained U.S.-China trade relationship, etc.  It also dealt with Chinese cultural elements (as well as stereotypes) in ways that were insightful and respectful, yet not heavy-handed. Despite some of the serious themes, there was a lightheartedness to the story that made this a well-balanced read.

 

In terms of character development, I feel that Chen did a great job with both Winnie and Ava. Even though I disagree with their actions and the decisions they ultimately made, I was able to relate to the struggles they went through as Chinese women who grew up in traditional Chinese families.  Ava especially resonated with me, as I recognized so much of her family dynamic in my own — i.e.: the pressure to choose a "prestigious" career path that ultimately leads to wealth, even if it's not a career that I would want for myself (this quote sent shivers down my spine because it's almost verbatim what I experienced: "…in my family there were only a few acceptable paths—law, medicine, engineering. Law was the one I'd disliked least. From the very beginning, I'd known my lot in life: to be good enough at my job, and to tolerate it until retirement."); the expectation to be an overachiever in school (anything less than straight A's was frowned upon) and maintain the image of the "good Chinese daughter" so as not to disappoint my immigrant parents who sacrificed so much for their children to have such opportunities; the cultural significance of "face" and the huge impact it has on how, as a Chinese woman, I'm supposed to live my life (another quote that applies almost verbatim to my own situation: "…but when you grow up as I did, schooled in the supremacy of "face"—the figurative face, the image, reputation, honor that must be fought for and preserved at all costs—breaking free from constraints to think for oneself becomes a Herculean task.").   One of the things I love about the reading experience is coming across characters whom I am able to relate to in some way (even if our life circumstances are completely different) and that certainly was the case here — this makes the time and effort spent reading this all the more worthwhile. 

Overall, I definitely enjoyed this "fun" and engrossing read, but more than that, I also appreciated the fact that it was a welcome departure from the "heavier" books that I've read lately.  Immediately after finishing this one, I put both of Kirsten Chen's previous books on my TBR, though of course, I also look forward to what she might have in store next.  

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: The Diamond Eye (by Kate Quinn)

My Rating:  4.5 stars

Kate Quinn has done it again!  This tremendously talented author (one of my favorites) has once again written another engrossing, transportive work of historical fiction with a strong, formidable female protagonist at its center.   In a provocative narrative based on the real life story of Lyudmila "Mila" Pavlichenko, a Russian librarian and history student turned deadly sniper, Quinn returns to the WWII time period of her previous novel, except this time, the focus is on the Soviet front and the physical battles fought during the war.  Mila's story is fascinating in its own right, but through her beautifully rendered prose, Quinn truly brings this little-known war heroine to life.  I love the way Quinn writes her characters in all her books and this time around was no exception.  With the character of Mila, I appreciated how, despite the moniker "Lady Death" and a tally of 309 kills to her name, the focus throughout most of the story wasn't really on her fame per se, but rather, on her humanity.   Mila was formidable, but never hostile, and in the face of everything she had to deal with — taking care of her son as a single mother, pushing back against the bias and prejudices she had to endure on a daily basis in her field of work, fending off those with bad intentions toward her, being tasked with defending her country against foreign advances, etc. — the tremendous strength and fortitude she consistently displayed was nothing short of admirable.

This was a meticulously researched, engaging story that I found difficult to put down.  I learned a lot about a segment of WWII history that I was less familiar with, which I appreciated, as I always hope to learn something from my reading experiences.   Kate Quinn's novels have all been 5 star reads for me up to this point and while this one was indeed wonderful, it did fall a tad bit short this time around, mostly because I felt parts of the story leaned a little too much into the technical aspects related to weaponry and battle, which has never been a subject of interest for me. Also, I felt the storyline involving Alexei went on for way too long, and the way he seemed to keep popping up all over the place honestly kind of annoyed me.

One thing I do have to mention — given the context of what is going on in the world currently involving Russia and Ukraine, it was honestly hard to read this book and not feel impacted in some way by the similarities of war.  This would be the one caution about reading this book during this time.  

That notwithstanding though, The Diamond Eye is a magnificent story that is absolutely well-worth the read.  Highly recommended!! 

Received ARC from William Morrow and Company via NetGalley.

Review: The Hidden Child (by Louise Fein)

My Rating: 4 stars

I'm a little torn on how to rate this one.  While I liked the story overall, some parts of it frustrated me in ways that I find difficult to articulate. From the get go, I understood that this would not be an easy read by any means, as I knew from the summary that the subject matter revolved around the burgeoning eugenics movement at the end of the 1920s in Europe.   With eugenics forever linked to the Holocaust in my mind, I had mixed feelings going into this book and to be honest, wasn't too sure if I was up for a story (albeit a fictional one) about the beginnings of a movement associated with one of the most horrific war atrocities in history.  With that said, I had read this author's debut novel and liked it overall, so I figured I would give this one a try.  

After having finished this one, I will say that I'm glad I took a chance on it, as it gave me better insight into the historical context behind why people back then had the attitudes and beliefs they did (even though I disagree with them completely).  I also appreciated the writing, which I felt was well done overall (though some of the narrative did meander a bit, but not to the point of hugely impacting my reading experience). 

My frustrations with this book were mostly with the characters — specifically the 2 main characters whose alternating perspectives the narrative was told from.  Edward and Eleanor Hamilton are a wealthy, happily married couple in England who are both proponents of the eugenics movement for their own personal reasons, but Edward is a stronger believer due to his profession.  When their sweet and beautiful four-year-old daughter Mabel starts to experience epileptic seizures, with each one more frequent and severe, their perfect lives shatter.  The decision is made that Mabel, with her shameful illness, must be hidden away in order to protect the family's honor as well as Edward's work in eugenics.  But things get worse from there, to the point that Edward's and Eleanor's marriage teeters on the verge of collapse.  

To be perfectly honest, I found both Edward and Eleanor very difficult to like — not just because of the views they espoused, but also their personalities and the way they behaved throughout the story, annoyed for about 75% of the story.  At certain points, I felt there was a lot of time spent by both of them attempting to justify their views and it got to be a bit too much in my opinion.  I was hoping there would be more focus on Mabel, since her illness was technically the catalyst of the entire story, but there wasn't as much on her as I expected. While both characters did end up having redeeming qualities that came into play later on, I think by that time, my frustration with them was too palpable to overcome.

Having said all that, I think the story overall was a good one and it's obvious the author, Louise Fein, was meticulous in her research.  While I did have issues with some aspects of the story, it was still an eye-opening read, one that I feel was well worth the effort.  I heard that Fein is working on her third novel, which I'm definitely looking forward to reading!  

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: When Ghosts Come Home (by Wiley Cash)

My Rating: 5 stars 

This was such a fantastic read! Wiley Cash is another one of those authors whose works I've had on my TBR for a while but never got around to reading. Despite this being my first book of his, I still went into this one with high expectations, mostly because I've heard so much about his works and how great of a storyteller he is — I wanted to see / experience it for myself. Well, I can say with certainty now that I'm so glad I did, as I now have another author to add to my favorites list!

Set in Oak Island, North Carolina, the story follows Sheriff Winston Barnes over the course of 4 days in the fall of 1984, as he investigates a mysterious murder. On the night before Halloween, Winston is jolted awake by what sounded like the crash of an airplane — when he goes out to the airport in the middle of the night to investigate, finds more than he bargained for: next to a huge airplane lying with its tail broken on the runaway, Winston finds the body of a black man who had been shot to death. As the investigation in the subsequent days slowly brings to light the truth of what happened that night, the small island town is forced to reckon with the community's deeply rooted racial prejudices that get repeatedly stirred up by a Confederate flag-toting local man hellbent on ousting Winston from his job. There were technically three different threads to the narrative — the main one told involving the investigation into the mysterious abandoned plane and an equally mysterious murder, a secondary thread from the perspective of Winston's daughter Colleen, who returns to her parents' home bearing insurmountable grief over a devastating loss, and a third thread from the perspective of Jay, a teenaged black boy who is also he brother-in-law of Rodney Bellamy (the man found murdered on the airport runway). Through these three intertwining perspectives, the full picture of what happened eventually emerges.

In addition to the fabulous storytelling, the other thing I loved about this book was the realistic depiction of the characters, to the point that I felt like I was reading about real people dealing with real issues. There was also an incredible sense of time and place, which, combined with the well-developed characters and he beautiful, descriptive writing, made this a truly immersive reading experience. This book also hit the mark on an emotional level, as various parts of the story made me simultaneously sad, angry, heartbroken, yet also hopeful, especially during those moments when certain characters stood up to the hatred and bigotry that permeated particular sections of the community. The ending was gut wrenching and unexpected— it actually took me by surprise and made me shed real tears (which doesn't happen often).

As I mentioned earlier, Wiley Cash is now on my list of favorite authors and I am definitely looking forward to exploring his backlist! If you're looking for a powerful, timely story that has a elements of historical fiction, family saga, murder mystery, exploration of various community and social justice issues, etc., this is a perfect read — one I absolutely recommend!

Received ARc from William a Morrow via NetGalley

Review: Mother May I (by Joshilyn Jackson)

My Rating: 4 stars

My exposure to Joshilyn Jackson's works so far has been limited to her 2019 release Never Have I Ever, which I remember was a well-written, brilliantly plotted thriller that kept me guessing throughout.  I also remember, when I wrote my review for that book, how impressed I was that an accomplished author who is used to writing books in a particular genre, could venture into a whole different genre (one that isn't easy to succeed in, to boot) and do such a good job with it.  With her newest novel Mother May I, Jackson once again takes on the thriller / suspense genre, this time centering the story around another flawed female protagonist, Bree Cabbat, and her wealthy, privileged family.   Just like with Never Have I Ever, Jackson  incorporated elements into the story that reflected societal issues from the last couple years — for example, drug addiction and the opioid crisis, disparity between rich and poor, racism, wealth and privilege, the metoo movement, etc.  

As with all thriller / suspense novels, I recommend going in knowing as little as possible, so my review will be deliberately short and vague.  One thing I will say though is that I actually liked Jackson's previous thriller (Never Have I Ever) a tad better.  While this newest one (Mother May I) was just as well-written, I feel it wasn't as tightly plotted and enthralling — I was able to figure out most of the plot points relatively easily and guessed the ending early on too.  I also thought that parts of the plot came across a bit melodramatic, though not to the point that it affected my reading experience.  I also wasn't particularly fond of the characters either — Bree annoyed me quite a bit, especially with some of her actions in the last part of the story — but again, not to the point that it detracted from the story.

Jackson definitely knows how to tell a compelling story!  Even though I figured out most of the plot early on, the story was still engaging enough to keep me continuously turning the pages, only putting the book down once (and reluctantly at that) to tend to some urgent matters.  I ended up finishing this one in two sittings.  If you're looking for a well-written, suspenseful story that goes beyond being a "run-of-the-mill" thriller, then definitely pick this one up.  Do be warned though that triggers abound, especially as it relates to sex and some of the characters' actions / behaviors.  

Of course I can't wait for Jackson's next book (whether it will be a thriller or not) — while I wait, I need to find time to read her other works as well (though easier said than done given my schedule).

Received ARC from publisher (William Morrow) via NetGalley.

Review: The Rose Code (by Kate Quinn)

My Rating: 5 stars

A few years ago, I had read author Kate Quinn's The Alice Network and absolutely loved it – to the point that both the story and its characters continued to stay with me for quite some time afterwards.  Unfortunately, I didn't get the chance to read Quinn's follow up novel The Huntress (which I plan to rectify at some point) – which is why, when I was given the opportunity to read her latest release, The Rose Code, I jumped at the chance to do so, prioritizing it ahead of most of my March reads, despite the fact that, at 656 pages, I knew it would take me some time to get through.  Of course, given how much I enjoyed Quinn's previous work, I went into this one with high expectations and now, after having finished, I can say with certainty that it definitely didn't disappoint.   One of the things I loved about The Alice Network were the strong female protagonists at the center of the story  – indomitable women from different walks of life (with distinctly different personalities and flaws), who are brought together in unique ways to support the war effort.  This time around, the story involves 3 women who are recruited to work at Bletchley Park, a mysterious estate in the British countryside that was later revealed to be one of the main Allied code-breaking centers during WWII. 

 

Osla Kendall is a vibrant young debutante who seems to have everything her heart desires – wealth, beauty, a good education, a handsome boyfriend, etc. – yet she longs for one thing that had been elusive thus far:  the desire to prove herself as a woman with talent who should be taken seriously rather than constantly written off as a "silly" society girl.  It is this desire that motivates Osla to join Bletchley Park, where she hopes to use her fluency in languages, particularly in German, to help translate intercepted messages and contribute to the war effort on behalf of her country.   Mab Churt is a girl born into poverty whose impervious and determined nature helped her survive multiple hardships early on in her life.  Hoping to bury her past unpleasant experiences and create a better life for herself as well as her little sister Lucy, Mab joins BP hoping to find a socially advantageous husband while at the same time, putting her self-taught skills to good use.   After joining BP, both Osla and Mab end up billeting at the home of Beth Finch, a shy 24 year old who, up to that point, had been living under her strict, domineering mother's iron fist – after a lifetime of being told that she is "slow and useless" and therefore destined to forever remain under her mother's thumb, doing her bidding, Beth does not dare believe herself to be anything but incapable of survival outside of her home's four walls.  When Osla and Mab help Beth discover that she actually has a brilliant knack for solving the most difficult puzzles in a short amount of time, she also ends up joining BP, becoming one of the facility's very few female cryptanalysts. As these three women become close friends and colleagues, they encounter numerous challenges in their work, with the biggest one being the requirement to abide by an unbreakable oath of secrecy – an oath that tests the limits of their friendship and ultimately tears them apart..

 

In a bit of a unique narrative format, the story alternates between the perspectives of each of the 3 main characters as well as 2 different timelines spanning within the same decade.  The story kicks off in 1947, with the war over and a feverish joy in the air over the imminent royal wedding between Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip.  But not everyone has a reason to celebrate, as is hinted at when we are introduced to the 3 former BP colleagues whose fates took dramatically different turns after the war.  We are then taken back to 8 years ago, in December 1939, and from there, the story unfolds between two alternating timelines that ultimately converge into a final act that is both compelling and explosive.  Unlike both of Kate Quinn's previous novels, which were more straightforward in terms of the role of her female protagonists in espionage, this one takes a slightly different approach by focusing on the breakdown of encoded messages intercepted from enemy forces during the war – a subject not often covered in stories about this time period.  I'm not much of a math or science person and I will admit that a lot of the technical jargon in the book went way over my head, but because of the way the story was written – the way Quinn was able to seamlessly weave both the technical and historical elements into a compelling story that felt both atmospheric and approachable – made this such a refreshing read for me, one that opened my eyes to a different and intriguing aspect of the WWII time period that I'm curious to learn more about.  This is actually one of the things I love about well-written historical fiction – its ability to take historical events / people / topics, etc. and make them both approachable and accessible to people like me who probably would not engage otherwise due to difficulty in approaching the content. 

 

One of the things that had really stood out to me with The Alice Network was the way Quinn wrote her characters, which I found easy to connect and resonate with, even though the world that the characters inhabited were so vastly different from my own.  The same can be said of the characters in The Rose Code, except this time around, I felt like I was able to connect with these characters (Osla, Mab, and Beth) on a much deeper level, despite the fact that the time period and the world I live in right now is so different.  I love books with well-developed characters that you can't help but resonate with on some level – this book absolutely fit that bill.

 

This is a novel I definitely recommend, especially for historical fiction fans.  Also, I didn't intentionally plan it this way, as I don't typically read based on theme, but this one turned out to be a perfect read for March, with it being Women's History Month.  What a wonderful way to celebrate the importance of women's contributions throughout history, both here and around the world! 

 

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.