Review: The Story She Left Behind (by Patti Callahan Henry)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

I am officially back!  I completed my final classes for my Master’s degree last week and while I’m admittedly relieved, I’m also feeling a bit off-kilter – not surprising given that I’ve spent nearly every day of the past two years doing some form of schoolwork.  I’m not complaining per se, as I did truly enjoy all of my classes and also the exposure to so much great literature that I probably would not have picked up otherwise.  What I didn’t like (aside from the stress of having to juggle work + school + family obligations) was the lack of “leisure” reading time during these two years – for a perfectionist like myself, not being able to “get to” the list of books that I plan to read every month is stressful in and of itself, so in that sense, I’m glad to finally have my reading life back (though I definitely have A LOT of catching up to do in the next few months due to how badly I fell behind in my reading goals, especially this year). 

As I slowly but surely get back up to speed, I decided to start with a book that has been on my list since the beginning of the year: Patti Callahan Henry’s newest release The Story She Left Behind.  I had read Henry’s previous novel The Secret Book of Flora Lea two years ago for book club and really enjoyed it, so this newest work was highly anticipated and in the end, it did not disappoint.  Though this is a very different book from her previous one (and not related in any way to that book), the premise is similar in that at the center of the story are a mysterious disappearance, charming characters, an enchanting countryside setting, multiple book-related plot points, and emotionally resonant storytelling that had me captivated to the point that I honestly could not put this book down.  This time around, the “disappearance” involves the main protagonist Clara Harrington’s mother, a child prodigy author who leaves her husband and young daughter behind in Bluffton, South Carolina one morning in 1927 and never returns, shattering their lives forever.  Twenty-five years later, Clara is an artist and illustrator and has an eight-year-old daughter of her own named Wynnie, whom she named after the mother she still yearns for after so many years.  So it is that when Clara receives a phone call from Charlie Jameson, a man in London who claims to have discovered a dictionary containing her mother’s secret language, she decides to go retrieve it.  Later, due to the disastrous weather, Clara and Wynnie escape to the Jameson family’s picturesque countryside retreat in the Lake District, where Clara not only finds love and friendship, but also the courage to finally unravel the mystery behind her mother’s disappearance and the story that she left behind.

Henry writes the story in a lyrical prose that is both descriptive and atmospheric, giving the story a delightfully immersive quality that definitely made me feel transported to the picturesque countryside location that Clara and Wynnie find themselves in. One of the things I love about Henry’s writing is the way she is able to infuse subtle elements of magic and mystery to a story, yet still firmly root it in the real world through its historical aspects.  The way she writes her characters – endearing, yet flawed (sometimes frustratingly so) – also adds emotional depth to the story.  With that said, I did find some of the plot points a tad bit predictable (i.e.: I figured out the “mystery” part pretty early in the story and already had a feeling how it would end), but this didn’t detract from the story, at least not for me. 

Overall, I enjoyed this one immensely and would definitely want to read what Henry writes next, especially if it is in the same vein as this story or the previous one.  I also want to say that even though I received an ARC of this book through NetGalley, I also bought a physical copy of it because of the beautiful cover art and that’s the version I ended up reading – for me, this enhanced the reading experience quite a bit, so I would recommend this option if possible.

Received ARC from Atria Books via NetGalley.

Review: Homeseeking (by Karissa Chen)

My Rating: 5 stars

Karissa Chen’s debut Homeseeking is a novel that resonated deeply with me, to the point that I’m honestly not sure where to begin in terms of writing this review.  There is so much to unpack with this story, which is very aptly described as both simultaneously “epic” and “intimate” as it follows two childhood sweethearts across six decades and two continents. 

The narrative begins with the inciting incident that essentially triggers the rest of the events that occur: in 1947 Shanghai, amidst the Chinese civil war, Wang Haiwen decides to secretly enlist in the Nationalist army in order to save his brother, leaving behind not only his family, but also his girlfriend and soulmate Zhang Suchi – a decision that ends up changing the trajectories of both lives in profound ways.  The story then jumps to Los Angeles in 2008, where Haiwen and Suchi (now going by their American names “Howard” and “Sue”) are unexpectedly reunited when they bump into each other at the local 99 Ranch Market.  As the two reminisce about the past, it becomes clear that they have both endured and survived circumstances that changed them – whereas Haiwen continues to hold his memories close to his heart, Suchi insists on only looking forward and letting the past stay in the past. From there, the narrative weaves back and forth in time, tracing the path of both characters’ lives within the context of Chinese history (i.e.: WWII and the Japanese occupation, the Chinese civil war, the Great Famine and the Cultural Revolution, etc.) to reveal the circumstances that led up to that reunion.  Notably, the narrative not only alternates between both main characters’ points of view -- with Haiwen’s story moving backward in time, from the present to the past, while Suchi’s story moves forward from the past to the present, with both story arcs ultimately re-converging again in the present – it also follows them across continents, from Asia (Shanghai, Hong Kong, Taiwan) to North America (California and New York).  Throughout their separate (and at times very disparate) journeys and despite the many changes that their lives undergo, one thing that remains constant in in terms of Haiwen’s and Suchi’s relationship is the determination to never lose sight of the meaning of home (including their parents and the sacrifices they made), which they continue to keep in their hearts no matter where they end up.

There was actually so much I loved about this book – the beautiful writing, the poignant, moving story arc, the authentic portrayal of history and culture, the complex structure that was executed near flawlessly, the wonderful character development (I honestly did not want to let go of these characters even after I finished reading the book), just to name a few.  But what made this the ultimate reading experience for me was the fact that I was able to connect with the story on all levels, from the overarching themes to the minute details about the settings, language, culture, history, etc.

While on the surface, Homeseeking may appear to be a love story that highlights the enduring power of love to transcend time and place, I would argue that the story actually goes way deeper than that.  Yes, there are indeed elements of a love story – specifically about two star-crossed lovers who are fated to find their way back to each other (given the epigraph, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I found Haiwen and Suchi’s fated/fateful love relationship to be reminiscent of Shijun and Manzhen from Eileen Chang’s famous classic Half a Lifelong Romance) – but for someone like me who grew up as part of the Chinese diaspora in Los Angeles, I found special meaning in this story that went beyond the romance / love story elements. 

First, the setting – for the parts of the story that took place in Los Angeles, I loved seeing the mentions of so many places that I was familiar with – for example: Monterey Park and San Gabriel are usual haunts for most of us in the LA Chinese immigrant community (if you want the best authentic Chinese food in LA, those are the places to be) and of course, the 99 Ranch Market is as ubiquitous to us as H Mart is to the Korean community (I will admit that as I was reading, I did have one of those book nerd moments where I was tempted to research whether the 99 Ranch Market that Haiwen and Suchi meet at is the same one I frequent, LOL).  I also got a kick out of the scenes about encountering rush hour traffic on the freeways and the mentions of how long it takes to get from one place to another in LA (story of my life right there, haha).

In terms of setting though, Los Angeles wasn’t the only connection for me to the story.  I was born in Hong Kong, my mom is from Shanghai, and some of my relatives live in Taiwan, so those are all places that are more than familiar to me, whether from a history, culture, cuisine, language, geography, etc. aspect (it always elevates the reading experience when I’m able to recognize so many of the cultural, historical, etc. elements in a book). 

With that said, one of the biggest things that made this book such a meaningful read for me was the way that the author, Karissa Chen, handled the language aspect. Not only does Chen not directly translate many of the Chinese words and phrases in the book (with the exception of the few instances where she added notes in the back of the book for context), she also incorporates the local language and/or dialect based on the region that those scenes are set in.  For example, in the scenes set in Shanghai, the names as well as Chinese words and phrases are in Shanghainese (with some Mandarin depending on the situation), the scenes in Hong Kong are in Cantonese, the ones in Taiwan are in both Taiwanese and Mandarin. Even “Chinglish” was incorporated into some of the scenes set in Los Angeles! In her “Note on Languages” at the beginning of the book (which is an absolute must read in order to understand the structure of the story), Chen explains her approach in structuring the language in this manner as a way to faithfully represent both the different languages in Chinese-speaking communities as well as the lived experiences of those who have to navigate multiple languages on a daily basis:

“One of the challenges in writing an English-language story about the Chinese and Taiwanese diaspora is figuring out how to faithfully represent the different Sinitic languages spoken in different regions (and sometimes even within the same region). Because the Chinese written language uses a representational (versus phonetic) system, the same written word has many different pronunciations, depending on what language the speaker is using. This includes names. Given that my characters move within various Chinese-speaking regions of the world, I wanted to make sure to denote their code-switching in a way that would feel accurate. Therefore, each character may be referred to in a multitude of ways and may even broaden or change the way they think of themselves given a situation or over time. For this reason, chapters have not been labeled by character names, as our characters’ names evolve over time… For many people in the world, learning more than one language is a necessity, either because of migration or simply because the place they live in is a global one and survival dictates it. It is a skill that requires an ability to adapt and challenge oneself, and for many immigrants, it’s one of the most difficult, humbling, and uneasy parts of coming to a new country. If you, the reader, find yourself confused, I hope instead of giving up, you might take a moment to imagine what it must be like for those who have to navigate this on a daily basis, and then forge onward.”

I love and appreciate the fact that Chen not only pays such meticulous attention to language usage, but also makes a genuine effort to reflect our code-switching as well.  In my case, it so happens that all the Chinese languages and dialects used in the book (Mandarin, Cantonese, Shanghainese, Taiwanese, and yes, “Chinglish,” which was actually the language of my childhood) are also ones that I’m familiar with due to being amongst a community of family, friends, and relatives who speak one or more of these languages on a constant basis.  As an avid reader of English-language books about the Chinese diaspora, I can’t emphasize how rare it is to encounter a book that strives to represent the various Chinese-speaking regions in such a thoughtful and sincere way (though it’s not just the language – the historical and cultural elements are authentically represented as well). For me, this attentiveness to authenticity alone makes this an absolutely worthwhile read!

As this review is already quite long, I won’t go into every aspect of the book that made it such a personal and rewarding reading experience for me, but I have to mention one more thing:  this book made me cry genuine tears – not just because of the moving story (though yes, that definitely played a role), but because the familiarity and personal connections I felt to so many aspects of the story made me feel seen and understood in a way that no reading experience has made me feel in a very long time; to encounter books like this one is one reason why I read! 

Definitely pick this one up if you get a chance, as it’s a 5+ star read that’s well worth the time (especially highly recommended if you’re a fan of Eileen Chang’s works like I am).

 

Review: Good Dirt (by Charmaine Wilkerson)

My Rating: 4 stars

I really enjoyed Charmaine Wilkerson’s debut novel Black Cake, which I found to be a very interesting story told in a way that was so different from what I had read before.  That story was told not just from multiple perspectives, but also jumped around through multiple locations and time periods; plot-wise, the narrative unfolded around a female protagonist, a treasured family heirloom, and secrets from the past that significantly impact the characters’ present and futures, all while shining a light on aspects of history.  Wilkerson’s sophomore effort, Good Dirt, follows largely the same pattern structurally, yet it is also a completely different story. 

The story begins with a tragedy – 10-year-old Ebby Freeman is playing hide-and-seek with her beloved 15-year-old brother Baz at their home in an affluent New England neighborhood when two men enter and shoot Baz dead.  The tragedy garners massive media attention, mostly due to the fact that the Freemans are one of the few African American families living in an exclusive enclave where all the other wealthy families are predominantly white.  Despite the media frenzy over the case, the crime is never solved.  Ebby, now 29-years-old, is about to be married to Henry Pepper, who is also from an affluent and influential New England family, but on her wedding day, her fiancé ghosts her, leaving her to deal with yet another barrage of unwanted media attention when her family is thrust back into the spotlight due to the high-profile nature of the relationship.  Ebby ends up fleeing to France, where she hopes that a solitary retreat at her friend Hannah’s village house will help her heal – a hope that is upended when Ebby’s past catches up to her.  At the same time, Ebby continues to deal with the trauma of Baz’s death 18 years ago and the survivor’s guilt that has followed her since that moment she found her brother lying bloodied on the floor of their home, surrounded by shattered pieces of a stoneware jar – an heirloom that had been in their family for nearly two centuries.  The heirloom’s significance – both to Ebby’s family as well as to her own future – becomes the main thread that links the narrative’s various threads together.

Just like Black Cake, this story is beautifully written and one that explores complex themes of grief, trauma, racism, etc. interwoven with heartbreak and loss, yet also balances this with themes of love, courage, resilience, and hope.  Ebby is a character I couldn’t help rooting for – Wilkerson did a great job developing her character arc in such a way that it was easy to connect with her experiences despite being from different backgrounds.  I also appreciated how part of the story was told from Ebby’s parents’ points of view as well, which provided important insight and perspective on the various events that happen in the novel.  The historical elements also blended nicely with the present-day timeline, as Wilkerson explored the Freeman family’s origins as well as the significance of the heirloom that played such a central role in the story.

This one is highly recommended, especially if you enjoyed Wilkerson’s phenomenal debut.  For me, both books were equally great reads, though I think Black Cake stuck with me more because it dealt with more obscure history that was less familiar to me.  Either way, Good Dirt is a well-told, fascinating, and thought-provoking story definitely worth the read!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Lost Story of Eva Fuentes (by Chanel Cleeton)

My Rating: 4 stars 

As much as I wish for it to be otherwise, my reading life is off to a late start this year.  I wasn’t able to read much in January or February due to some things I had to take care of in my personal life, so now, heading into March, I’m trying to play catch up with my TBR.  Though I guess if I’m being honest, it’s not that I didn’t do any reading the past 2 months (because I’m always reading something), but rather I didn’t want to spend time writing about it.  In any case, now that I have things a little bit more under control, I’m starting to slowly but surely clear out my ARC list.

 

It's actually a little bit ironic that the first ARC I’m starting with this year doesn’t publish until July, but that’s how things ended up turning out.  The Lost Story of Eva Fuentes is Chanel Cleeton’s latest Cuban-themed historical fiction novel and it’s definitely a good one!  I’ve read most (but not all) of Cleeton’s past novels and especially enjoyed her series about the Perez family, though her other novels (the ones not about the Perez family) have been a hit or miss for me overall.  With this latest one, I’m guessing I enjoyed it so much because the storyline revolves around a lost book and its connection to three women from three different time periods. 

In the present timeline (London in 2024), Margo Reynolds is hired to help her client find a rare book that was written 120 years ago, but there is a huge catch – only one copy of the book is currently in existence.  Though Margo accepts the challenge, she quickly realizes that she may actually be in over her head as other parties interested in the book start to come out of the woodwork and her life is placed in danger.  The timeline then moves to Havana in 1966, where librarian Pilar Castillo lives in grief and anger over the loss of her husband, who was arrested and imprisoned for going against Fidel Castro’s regime.  Pilar comes into possession of the mysterious book when it is turned over to her for safekeeping by a neighbor and eventually becomes more than a source of comfort for her as she endures the difficulties of living under Castro’s repressive regime.  Finally, the third timeline, in 1900, introduces us to the author of the book, Eva Fuentes, a Cuban teacher who is given the opportunity to travel to the United States as part of a summer cultural exchange program at Harvard University. During Eva’s stay there, she experiences both joy and heartbreak that not only end up altering the course of her life, but also provide the inspiration for her novel.

 

I have to admit that I was a bit dubious at first how the story would unfold given how far apart the three timelines were.  It turns out I didn’t have to worry though, as Cleeton definitely knew what she was doing in making Eva’s book the central thread that connected the seemingly disparate timelines together, but in a way that was seamless and made sense for the story’s development.  Given my affinity for historical fiction, no doubt that I enjoyed Eva’s and Pilar’s timelines more -- Margo’s timeline was well done overall, but since the three timelines alternated with each chapter, it did feel a little jarring to jump from an early 20^th century historical setting to a modern day murder mystery setting in 2024.  Things turned out fine in the end though.

 

As an avid reader and also a writer myself, I love learning about the behind-the-scenes aspects of how a particular story came to be as well as the inspirations for certain characters and events, which is perhaps why Cleeton’s latest work resonated with me more than her previous novels did.  Speaking of behind-the-scenes, Cleeton writes in her Author’s Note that The Lost Story of Eva Fuentes is a “love letter to the power of books and the impact they leave on our lives,” which is one of the main reasons why she had Eva’s fictional book be what links the three women in the three different timelines together.  I couldn’t agree more!  Cleeton fans will definitely want to pick this one up, but those who enjoy “books about books” will likely enjoy this one as well.

 

Received ARC from Berkley via Book Browse First Impressions program.

Review: Dreaming in Cuban (by Cristina Garcia)

 My Rating: 4 stars

The past few months have been a bit of a crazy, chaotic whirlwind for me and while I’ve continued to do tons of reading, I’ve unfortunately been less diligent with the review side of things (mostly due to lack of time) – which is why I’m grateful to have a couple weeks off now and in December so I can finally catch up, both on the backlogged reviews that I didn’t get a chance to write as well as on the teetering stack of books that I have not gotten around to reading yet (the stack is literally inches away, right next to my keyboard, threatening to topple over as I type this).

 

One of the books I finished earlier in the month is Cuban American author Cristina Garcia’s debut novel Dreaming in Cuban, which came out back in 1992.  I picked this one up because it was assigned reading for one of my classes, which of course made me skeptical about whether this would be a tedious read and whether I would actually enjoy it. 

 

The story revolves around three generations of the del Pino family and the devastating impact that the Cuban revolution has on them.  The narrative alternates between the perspectives of Celia (the matriarch of the del Pino family who still lives in Cuba), Lourdes (one of Celia’s three children who flees with her husband to the U.S. at the height of the Cuban revolution), and Pilar (Lourdes’s daughter who is caught between two the American world she lives in and the Cuban world of her heritage).  In addition to the interesting format that the story is told in (a combination of third person, first person, and epistolary), there are also magical realism elements sprinkled throughout the narrative, though not in a heavy-handed manner (which I was glad to see because magical realism can be a hit or miss for me). 

 

This is one of those novels that has a complex plot involving multiple characters (I’m grateful for the character chart that Garcia includes at the beginning of the book) with a deeply profound underlying message that takes a little bit of patience to get to. 

 

Overall, I wouldn’t say that I “enjoyed” the book, as there was a lot of hard stuff in this one that had to be parsed through, but I definitely liked and appreciated it, especially for the unique insight it provided into the Cuban American experience.  I would say that if this is a perspective that interests you, this one is well worth picking up, though be aware that trigger warnings abound.

Review: And the Mountains Echoed (by Khaled Hosseini)

My Rating: 5 stars

Don’t expect his review to be a long one because I honestly don’t have the words to describe how I felt reading this beautifully written book. From the moment I read the interesting first line – “So, then. You want a story and I will tell you one. But just the one…” – I was preparing myself for an absorbing story, but I didn’t anticipate how truly exquisite the experience would be. Khaled Hosseini is indeed a masterful storyteller, but this novel also proves that he is a masterful writer as well.  Unlike his previous 2 novels, Hosseini employs a unique structure this time around in the form of a series of interlinked stories across nine chapters, each narrated from the perspective of a different character.  The format is nonlinear, with the narrative jumping back and forth between various settings (from Afghanistan to Paris to California to the Greek island of Tinos) and timelines (1940s through 2010).  Each chapter comes across vignette-like, where we get a glimpse into the life of each individual character, some of whom narrate their own stories in first person, while others are told in third person, with one chapter that is completely epistolary.  On the surface, it may not be readily apparent how each character’s story correlates with the other, but once I got to the end of the book, I couldn’t help but marvel at Hosseini’s genius in structuring the narrative this way.  Interconnectedness is a huge theme in the novel and Hosseini demonstrates this in multiple ways – through the plot and story, through the characters, and especially through the narrative’s structure.

 

Emotionally, this was one of those books that was simultaneously heartbreaking and uplifting -- to the point that I lost count of how many times the story and its characters broke my heart and then put it back together again. There were many moving and poignant moments that triggered a jumble of different emotions – sadness, anger, confusion, awe, wonder, surprise, relief, dread, hope, etc. (just to name a few).  Hosseini presents humanity and all its emotional complexities in such a realistic (yet not overwhelming) way that you get the sense he truly understands human nature -- the ‘good, bad, and ugly’ that resides in all of us.  The story is filled with flawed characters who find themselves in various morally and ethically ambiguous dilemmas – much life we would in real life – yet through it all, and despite the poor decisions that some of them make, I felt like I understood where they were coming from and so I couldn’t help wanting to root for all of them (with the exception of one or two characters).  This is illustrated best through the words of one of the story’s most prominent characters, Dr. Markos, a Greek plastic surgeon who dedicates many years of his life providing care to those in Afghanistan who sustained physical injuries and deformities from the violence and fighting: “If I've learned anything in Kabul, it is that human behaviour is messy and unpredictable and unconcerned with convenient symmetries.”

 

I’ve had Khaled Hosseini on my list of “must-read” authors for years (on the advice of multiple trusted reader friends who are huge fans of his works) and actually have all 3 of his novels sitting on my shelf, but regretfully, I hadn’t been able to get to his works until now. I started with And the Mountains Echoed first because that is the novel I’m studying in my Literature class, but I hope to also read his two previous (and even more famous) novels at some point as well.

 

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: Shelterwood (by Lisa Wingate)

 

My Rating: 4 stars

I’ve been quite a bit behind on my leisure reading as of late and while I hope to catch back up as soon as possible, the reality is that it will be a challenge with peak summer reading right around the corner.  In addition to being busy with work and school, a few of my favorite authors actually have books coming out this summer, so it goes without saying that I will definitely be doing some prioritizing over the next couple weeks in order to get to everything. With that said, I’ve been able to squeeze in a May / June new release here and there.  This time around, the book is Shelterwood, the newest release from Before We Were Yours author Lisa Wingate.

When it comes to dual timeline historical fiction, I usually prefer the past timeline over the present one, but this time around, I felt that the present timeline, which took place in 1990, was much more engaging than the one from 1909.  I think this might be because for most of the 1909 narrative, I had no idea where the story was headed – the pace was slower, some parts didn’t feel entirely believable, and few of the scenes seemed a bit too farfetched, a little like drama was being created for drama’s sake.  The 1990 narrative, in comparisons, moved at a much faster pace and I felt more invested in the story (though I noticed these sections were much shorter than the historical narrative, which made the overall pacing much slower than I would have liked).  Having said all that, I like that Wingate brought both timelines together in a way that was meaningful and memorable; in all honesty, that moment when all the pieces started falling into place and I finally understood the historical situation that Wingate was trying to shine a light on was when I truly became engaged in the story – though I wish it hadn’t taken so long (more than half the book) to get there.

I love historical fiction because of the way the genre makes history so interesting and I always learn something, even if I’m already familiar with the subject matter I’m reading about.  In this case, I knew nothing about Oklahoma’s history and the guardian system that indirectly sanctioned the stealing of land from indigenous children, so I appreciated getting to learn about this (though I highly recommend also reading the Author’s Note, as Wingate recounts the history in way more detail and, for me at least, clarified a few aspects of the narrative that didn’t make a lot of sense at first).

Lastly, I wanted to put in a quick mention about the characters.  My favorite stories are the ones with strong, tenacious female protagonists who aren’t afraid to go against the grain – both Ollie (from the past narrative) and Val (from the present narrative) were precisely this kind of protagonist, which I absolutely appreciated.

This one is definitely recommended, though a little bit of patience is needed to reach the payoff at the end.  For me, it was worth it!

 Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The House on Biscayne Bay (by Chanel Cleeton)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

In her latest work, Chanel Cleeton tackles the gothic theme by centering her dual timeline story around Marbrisa, a glamorous mansion built in Miami, Florida right after the Great War. The over-the-top mansion is a gift that Robert Barnes surprises his wife with for her birthday, but during the inaugural party to celebrate the estate's completion, tragedy strikes and their lives are changed forever.  More than 20 years later, Carmen Acosta has no place to go after the tragic death of her parents in an accident, so she moves into the Marbrisa, the mansion that is currently home to her sister Carolina and her rich husband Asher Wyatt.  Prior to her arrival though, strange things were already happening at the mansion but things escalate soon after, to the point where Carmen's life is in danger.  Is Marbrisa cursed and haunted like people believe it is?  Or are the strange events the result of something more sinister?  

Overall, Cleeton's latest foray into Gothic fiction was entertaining, but I enjoyed her previous works more.  While the writing was good (as expected), the plot was way too predictable, to the point that I already had everything figured out less than halfway through the story, which of course took the "suspense" out of things (not to mention some loose ends never got explained, which created a few plot holes here and there).  The other issue I had was the narrative structure: the story was told in a dual timeline structure, with each time timeline narrated from the first person perspective of its respective protagonist— Anna in 1918 and Carmen in 1941.  The two protagonists couldn't have been more different in terms of age, race, life experiences, circumstances, etc., yet at times, I found it difficult to tell the two narrative voices apart and had to go back to check the chapter heading to remind myself which timeline I was reading.  This got a bit tiring after awhile, though it wasn't to the extent where it prevented me from moving through the story at a decent pace.

As I mentioned earlier, I did enjoy this one, but I have to admit that I was a little bummed that the story this time around had no connection to the Perez family (though I shouldn't have been surprised, since this book and her Cleeton's previous one were both standalone). With that said, there was an indirect link to one of Cleeton's previous novels — a "blink and you'll miss it" reference that I totally missed and only found out about after reading the Author's Note.

Even though I didn't take to this one as much as I thought I would, Cleeton continues to be one of those "go-to" authors for me whose works I will continue to read regardless (though I do hope she writes another book with a Perez family connection at some point).

Received ARC from Berkeley via NetGalley.

Review: Only the Beautiful (by Susan Meissner)

  

My Rating: 4.5 stars

I’ve had Susan Meissner’s books on my TBR for quite some time, but it wasn’t until recently that I got the chance to read one of her books – and the most recent one at that!  Meissner’s latest Only the Beautiful is one of those books that has so much of what I look for in a truly excellent read:  a genre I love (historical fiction), a beautifully well-written and engrossing narrative, well-developed characters whom I could relate to and root for, meticulously researched elements incorporated seamlessly into the story, and a thought-provoking story arc with emotional depth that continues to stay with me long after I finish reading the book. 

With all that said, I have to admit that I was a bit hesitant to pick this one up at first, mostly because of the WWII setting, as I had read too many books with this setting in recent years and felt like I needed a break – but since I had agreed to read and review this one, I of course followed through with it and am glad I did, as this turned out to be a very different story from what I expected.  Rosie’s story in part 1 was truly heartbreaking and in all honesty, left me speechless, especially as I had no idea that eugenics was being practiced in the United States throughout much of the 20^th century (nor did I know that there were actually laws that supported the practice).  I was also shocked to find out that the state of California (where I grew up and lived my entire life) was the site of the highest number of forced sterilizations in the nation up until the 1960s.  As heartbreaking as part 1 was though, Helen’s story in part 2 was even more so, especially as the parallels between what the Nazis were doing in Europe and what people in positions of power were doing in the United States became terrifyingly clear.

Reading about this history, I could not help but think about all the terrible decisions being made in our country in recent years that attempt to take away our right to choose what is best for ourselves.  As Rosie and Helen both ask at various points in the story:  Why do those in a position of strength get to decide what the best looks like?  Why is it that only the strong get to define what weakness is?  What gives those in power the right to decide who is worthy to be a mother or a father and who is not?  Who gets to decide that living with a disability means that life is not worth living?

There was so much in this book that was difficult to read about, yet I would still highly recommend it as a necessary as well as illuminating read. Books like this one remind me yet again how important it is to understand the connection between history and what is happening in our world currently, as well as how these things can impact our lives in ways both profound and subtle. 

As I await the next book from Meissner, I definitely need to go back and read her other books on my TBR (starting with the ones which I already have physical copies, of course).  Looking forward to more wonderful reads from her backlist!

Received print edition from Berkley via Bookbrowse.