Review: The Witch of Willow Hall

3 stars. I picked this up determined to prolong the spookiness in my life after Halloween (and after finishing The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina). I was hoping for something dark, scary, and witchy - and ended up with what was essentially a less sophisticated Jane Austen romance novel. No, I didn’t hate this, hence the middle-ground rating, but it wasn’t what I wanted.

The Witch of Willow Hall tells the story of Lydia Montrose as she attempts to adjust to a new home after her family is exiled from Boston. It is the early 1800s and the Salem witch trials are a not-so-distant memory. Lydia struggles to keep the peace with her two sisters, to sort out her feelings for a handsome neighbor, and to deal with an unseen threat that seems to emanate from Willow Hall - and from within herself.

The premise is interesting enough, but I just could not get behind our heroine. I’m so peeved by characters who are idiotic about their own feelings - it’s called attraction, dummy! You aren’t blushing “for some reason,” you aren’t weak at the knees “inexplicably,” it’s because you’re in lust with somebody! I don’t care what time period you’re from, that shit is universal.

Lydia also - quite unfortunately - confuses, or negates, the feminist undertones of the story. There are some great moments - moments where she demonstrates true female empowerment, and female complexity. And the next moment, she’s fainting into her true love’s arms for really no reason at all. I just don’t get that. She’s a fantastic sister, a forgiving daughter and a badass witch. But this treads dangerously into “not without a man” territory.

Speaking of the romance, I’m sorry, but it didn’t feel real for me. I spoke about one trope already, but there are many here. Insta-lust, sexual tension, a weird love triangle (square?) and some random incest? Hester Fox is actually a BEAUTIFUL linguist, and I loved her way with words, but there’s a lot of room to grow in her plotting.

I’m so sorry, but this wasn’t truly gothic for me. It was somewhat atmospheric, but it wasn’t haunting. It gets three stars because it is a page turner, and because I appreciate the intent here. I’ll likely read more by this author and support her efforts. We always need more stories about strong women! This just wasn’t nasty enough for my tastes.

The Witch of Willow Hall on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Miniaturist

2 stars. This is absolutely well-written and interesting, and I read it under 24 hours, which is a testament to the storytelling. But I found that a lot of the mystery fell flat - or at least, fell to the wayside to make room for a predictable, melodramatic soap opera.

SPOILERS BELOW.

The Miniaturist takes place in Amsterdam in the 1600s. Our protagonist, Nella, arrives to begin her marriage to a wealthy merchant trader ... and everything pretty much goes downhill from there. Nella's new family is not warm or friendly. Her husband does not visit her at night. Her questions go unanswered. She feels unwelcome, and like a failure.

But then she finds a distraction - a dollhouse of sorts, gifted to her by her enigmatic husband. She solicits the services of a local miniaturist and mysterious events unfold, seemingly related to the little gifts delivered for her house.

And then things take a really strange turn for the ... dramatic. In a very human sense of the word. Nella discovers her husband is gay, and that her sister-in-law is pregnant with the baby of their black servant (gasp!). 

And Nella somehow completely gets over her husband's secret, despite being a young and immature person living in the buttoned-up 1600s, and helps deliver her niece in a very vivid and graphic and bloody birth scene. And then her husband is executed.

We don't really ever discover anything else about the miniaturist, despite her ability. Is she a prophet? A spy? A witch? It's just an intriguing thread woven into an ultimately bland and unconvincing tapestry. 

The writing here is good, and the research is very well incorporated.  But I don't buy comparisons to Sarah Waters or Emma Donoghue. The Miniaturist is too dry, too focused on the wrong things, and too confused. It just wasn't a rewarding read, for me.

The Miniaturist on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Katherine

2 stars. My first DNF here at Kelly Book Stuff. DNFs are so, so rare for me that I barely know what to do with myself. The process that leads up to deciding not to finish a book is so agonizing for me, but sometimes it must be done. Here, it's simply an example of "great book, not for me." The writing is admirable, and clearly a lot of research went into this very detailed and very in-depth story. But it wasn't for me. 

Katherine tells the tale of Lady Katherine Swynford, a historical figure known as the mistress and eventual wife of John of Gaunt. It chronicles her early life, her first marriage, and her long love affair beneath a detailed tapestry of historical England and politics. At times it is a romance, at other times a political drama, sometimes a simple record of what went down back then. It is a rich and comprehensive portrait of what life was like when she lived.

And what an extraordinary life she lived! I'm so glad this book exists if only to bring Katherine to life and tell her story. Women - good women, bad women, right women, wrong women, ALL women - should not be overlooked. We must dedicate pages to them and honor their roles, both big and small, in history. 

But Katherine, for me, lacked forward momentum. It lacked a certain spark that kept me from turning pages. It also didn't feel real, at all. The author dances around some issues and it didn't sit well with me. She paints Katherine in a very flattering light that doesn't really reflect enough ... complexity. The romance was too sentimental, too swoon-worthy, and seriouslyyyyy idealistic. Look, to misquote Carmen Electra from an interview I saw with her once, sometimes people fuck and still want to talk to each other afterwards. It's actually that simple.

I've noticed that a lot of these detailed historical romances are long. Way too long, in my opinion. I absolutely love history and love watching it come to life, but this could've really benefited from serious editing. I also noticed that there is some outdated content that likely would not have gone over well in a modern publication. There's a lot of fat-shaming.

I can see why it's a classic, though. I certainly learned from it and might return one day to finish the last 25%. I loved Chaucer and the details about the food and holidays and traditions from that time period. Great book, for sure, but not for me (to finish).

Katherine on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Constant Princess

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

2 stars. This is going to be a tricky one.

First things first: this is the only book I've ready by Philippa Gregory. So my opinion of this may change after reading others by her. We'll see.

Second: I realize that there is some controversy surrounding the supposed historical accuracy of these novels. In reading this one, the level of accuracy - or lack thereof - didn't bother me in the slightest. This book was never marketed as non-fiction, so I can't really take issue with the author's craftsmanship. And it IS craftsmanship. She's crafting a story of her own. In no way does she claim to be telling the true story of "what really happened." It's an entertaining interpretation of events that may or may not have happened hundreds of years ago. All I care about is the writing.

So, the writing. Hmm. Like I said, this is going to be tricky. I was so infuriated by some of the events depicted in this book that I'm having trouble separating my frustration with the story and my actual opinion of the writing itself. Like, WTF humans? WTF men? Why did you ever, in the history of the world, treat women like that? And apparently, still do, to some degree?

I know, I know. I know it's not that simple. Gender dynamics have never been black and white - and I'm very aware of the complex circumstances from which modern society evolved. It's just ... ugh, it made my skin crawl to experience things so intimately.

Yes, women have to fight in today's day and age in almost every sphere of their lives - home, school, the workplace, etc. But man am I glad I don't have to produce an heir - something that I would have absolutely no control over and at the risk of my LIFE - in order to avoid poverty or DEATH. As I said, WTF.

Sigh. I'll try to keep my feminist explosions of retrospective anger to myself and focus on the book.

It's fairly entertaining. Fairly. It's not a page turner, and it took me awhile to finish. It's not bad, exactly, nor is it boring, exactly, but it's not ... thrilling. I wasn't bothered by the switching point of view (though I can see why it bothered other readers). I wasn't bothered by the depiction of Henry VIII (though I can DEFINITELY see why that bothered other readers as well). Nor was I bothered by the author putting forth her message of tolerance, gender equality, and religious freedom (all authors have an agenda).

But yeah, it was just okay. I'm always interested to learn more about the Tudor period, and generally I enjoy historical fiction, but this almost felt like too much learning.

The Constant Princess on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Tulip Fever

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

3 stars. The experience of reading Tulip Fever reminded me so much of wandering through a curated exhibit. Each chapter starts with a referential quote, chosen perfectly to provide context, ambiance and a backdrop for the action to follow. Scenes are set in still life, as though each act is a painting and we are reading its description. The writing is absolutely gorgeous - delicate and sensual and thoughtful.

This is a quick, deceptively heavy read that will appeal to lovers of art and all things visually beautiful. There is some truly great character-building here and despite the simple plot, there are many underlying themes to explore. I'm fascinated by tulip fever and Dutch history and art history and other things on which this book offered a new perspective. And I applaud Deborah Moggach for proving what a pro she truly is.

Didn't totally hit the spot for me though: the plot is completely predictable, frustratingly so, and I just kind of didn't enjoy, on a very basic level, intensely emotional people doing intensely stupid things. So melodramatic! But the climax made me sit up and pay attention - it is misery on a different, twisted level. I admired that and found myself invested. SPOILER: When the singularly most important, crucial object in the book got eaten, I couldn't decide whether to laugh, clap or yell WTF at how simply ridiculous that was.

So here we are, at three stars, my way of saying good not great. Or maybe: there are great aspects but most of it is just okay. Or maybe: I didn't hate it. Ahh, three stars, a tricky place to land. I don't regret reading it. Can we leave it at that?

Tulip Fever on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Cloud Atlas

5 stars. This book is the most beautiful, breathtaking gut punch. It's a piece of literary genius; philosophical and compelling. It made me feel small - in a good way, like when I visit New York or Tokyo or stand next to the ocean. I was captivated, almost against my will, and I can't wait to read it again and again and again.

Allow me to write a longer summary than usual. It will help me sort through the plot and the themes. SPOILERS TO FOLLOW.

Cloud Atlas collects the stories of six individuals and presents them in a puzzle box. The first story, THE PACIFIC JOURNAL OF ADAM EWING, takes place in the mid-1800s and follows a notary traveling from the Chatham Isles to California. HIs narrative ends abruptly and the book shifts to LETTERS FROM ZEDELGHEM, a collection of letters from a bisexual composer to his lover, reporting on his many amusing exploits of the 1930s. This composer encounters a copy of Adam Ewing's journal and is fascinated.

The book then shifts again to HALF-LIVES, THE FIRST LUISA REY MYSTERY, a pulpy thriller about a feisty journalist and her quest to expose a corporation for playing fast and loose with the safety precautions on their nuclear reactor. Rey, in the midst of dodging 1970s clichés and cliffhangers, comes across the composer's letters from the previous section and is desperate to find the rest.

Falling into place, yet? I know, it's great.

Leaving Luisa's fate unknown, we shift to modern times to read THE GHASTLY ORDEAL OF TIMOTHY CAVENDISH, the memoir of an elderly publisher who gets trapped in a nursing home against his will (and ... is sent the first half of a manuscript about Luisa Rey). Cavendish is colorful and - honestly, a little grotesque - but we root for him all the same.

Number five reveals AN ORISON OF SONMI-451, the transcript of an interview with a clone from the far future. Sonmi has "ascended" - she has taught herself to think and feel, and in her own transcendent way attempts to right the wrongs she sees in the world. She also enjoys the first half of the movie version of Cavendish's ghastly ordeal.

Lastly we read SLOOSHA'S CROSSIN' AN' EV'RYTHIN' AFTER. Civilization has fallen. The human population has fractured into isolated tribes living off the earth and avoiding savages. Zachry, a goatherder, worships Sonmi like a god, though he and his people don't understand her origins or the true context of her declarations. 

And then we switch back to Sonmi, who declares in the last moment of her interview that she'd like to watch the rest of the movie about Timothy Cavendish. Cavendish escapes his nursing home prison and reads the second half of the manuscript about Luisa Rey. Luisa survives several ridiculous threats, including a hit man, a bombing and a shootout on a boat to obtain the rest of the composer's letters. The composer, in the last moments of his life, reads the final chapters of Adam Ewing's journal, who closes with “My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?” 

There is, admittedly, a ton to unpack here. My observations and thoughts are as follows:

First - David Mitchell can write anything he wants. Each segment of this book is carefully crafted and completely different. Each character has a distinguishable voice (in some cases, literally) - which is so rare! He emulates styles and forges his own. He can be irritating, and meta as hell, but Cloud Atlas is so fucking impressive. I would've loved to study this in college just so I could discuss and understand everything about it from the word choice to the philosophical questions to the structure.

Second - theeeeeeeeeemes. Theme city. Themes everywhere, as far as the eye can see. Mitchell infuses his work with explorations of the primitive vs. the civilized; nature vs. nurture; sacrifice; power; slavery; mortality ... and all of them - for the most part - bonk you on the head: "Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future." "Unlimited power in the hands of limited people always leads to cruelty." Etc. Yeah, there isn't a lot of subtlety here. But it's not bad. It's just heavy and philosophical and leaves you full of joy and sadness at the same time.

Cloud Atlas isn't perfect, I know. It requires commitment and patience and a high tolerance for tricky dialogue, and at times is a little too clever for its own good. It was a rewarding read for me, though, almost comforting. I think I understand the questions it asks and tries to answer. I can't wait to read it again and pull out the details I missed - and to just fall into that world again, even for a moment. After all, “Books don't offer real escape, but they can stop a mind scratching itself raw.” 

Cloud Atlas on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Picnic at Hanging Rock

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

5 stars. How unexpectedly wonderful! I'm delighted! I don't know what I expected - perhaps something slightly pulpier / amateur, but this book is built on some seriously sophisticated writing. It's old school in a way that's completely charming - not so old school that it feels archaic or stale or stuffy.

Joan Lindsay weaves a dark and thrilling tale of disappearance, murder, insanity, and potential forces in the universe beyond our comprehension. She plays with time, nature and mystery - all three intensify into something sinister and disturbing. She's extremely skilled at infusing her characters with strong, tenacious identities (a few of which she is sharply critical) and also extremely funny. "Except for those people over there with the wagonette we might be the only living creatures in the whole world,’ said Edith, airily dismissing the entire animal kingdom at one stroke."

Her nature writing is luxurious and rich. She paints a wonderful and transporting atmosphere through which this simple story swirls and juts and penetrates. There's tension amidst all that beauty and natural splendor. It grows and grows until the very end, at which point I was genuinely shocked.

Picnic at Hanging Rock radiates possibility. I don't believe in magic, spirits, the supernatural ... but this book made me sort of sit back and go, why not? The answer to its central mystery could be uncanny, or there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation. The beauty of this book is that I walked away convinced it could go either way. 6 out of 5 stars.

Picnic at Hanging Rock on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Fingersmith

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

4 stars. I called Sarah Waters' book The Paying Guests "a thriller of the heart, or something." I also noted that "it's quite simply about people - good people, decent people, admirable people - who do something wrong." I also didn't see the validity of a comparison with Dickens as, in my opinion, it went "deep instead of wide."

Fingersmith, though, is so Dickensian it hurts. There are twists and turns and many, many fleshed out characters and the implausible nature of the plot is forgiven because the moments feel so real. Waters' characteristic melodrama oozes from the pages, and I truly don't know how she manages to thicken it without ruining the flavor. She is truly a queen.

It's also exhausting to read. I have to admit I did NOT predict the first twist (I know!) and had to take a break to digest a bit. And then our main characters ended up trapped in horrible situations for most of the rest of the book. I enjoyed the clearly-researched details and the depth, but it was perhaps slightly too long. The writing is also a little quirky - full of blushes and "Oh!" 's.

Sarah Waters though, my god. I bow down. Another "thriller of the heart," for sure. She's incredible and I can't wait to read The Little Strangers, next on my list.

Fingersmith on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue

4 stars. Aww, how cute! Simply adorable! For some reason this was much more lighthearted than I expected, and much more ... adventurous. The stakes are never that high and the angst is a bit, well, angsty, but I really enjoyed this humorous little book.

I loved getting to know Monty, who begins about as far away from a fearless hero as you'll find in literature, his brave sister and his quietly noble travel companion / best friend / love interest. There are so many shenanigans I could hardly keep up - thievery, drunken debauchery, piracy, alchemy, numerous delicious illegal acts and just a hint of magic. They all add zest to this extremely heartwarming 18th century coming-of-age story.

I know it's shouted from the rooftops these days, but yes, representation matters. We have a bisexual protagonist in love with an epileptic biracial man - more stories like this, please. And take note - the representation here is done well. This isn't diversity for the sake of diversity, this book's message is folded with extreme care into its extremely well-written pages. The incredibly painful subjects of child abuse and chronic illness are handled with so much delicacy its almost breathtaking.

I docked a star because I suffer from really horrible secondhand embarrassment and couldn't stand Monty's many missteps in the first half of this book. I also find True Love tiresome. But seriously - read this book. I really, really enjoyed it, and I will read it again and again. After all, "what's the use of temptations if we don't yield to them?"

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue on: Amazon | Goodreads