The Piano Tuner

Daniel Mason

The Piano Tuner by Daniel Mason blends historical fact with fiction while carrying distinct echoes of the Lotus-Eaters’ passage in Homer’s Odyssey and Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness as backdrops. The novel opens in 1886 when Edgar Drake, a quiet, modest piano tuner is summoned by the War Office with a strange request. Would he be willing to comply with the request of an eccentric English surgeon-major called Dr. Anthony Carroll?

Edgar Drake is baffled by the request. He listens as the colonel explains how Carroll’s unorthodox methods to build alliances through music have met with success, making him indispensable to the British colonization of Burma. Accordingly, the government is compelled to honor his requests no matter how bizarre. His initial request for an Erard piano was granted. But now it seems as if the piano is in need of the services of an experienced piano tuner. The question before Edgar Drake is this: “Are you willing to make the journey to a remote outpost in Burma to tune an Erard piano?” This quiet, unassuming piano tuner who knows virtually nothing about Burma, or its current political turmoil, or the imperial powers fighting for control of it, nods his head in agreement. And so the adventure begins.

Drake’s lengthy journey to Mae Lwin, the remote outpost in Burma, is described in an explosion of sensory detail and vivid imagery. Along the way, he acquaints himself with the complexities of Burma’s history and current political climate by reading War Office documents. This gives Daniel Mason, who spent a year studying malaria along the Thai-Burmese border, the opportunity to provide a detailed history of the region and the Shan insurgency opposing British rule.

Drake eventually arrives in Mae Lwin and meets the infamous Dr. Anthony Carroll who impresses him with his knowledge of indigenous customs and traditions, respect for the indigenous population, and extensive knowledge of the local flora and fauna. Drake tunes the Erard piano but is in no hurry to return home. He becomes increasingly embroiled in Carroll’s political machinations, eventually departing from Mae Lwin with the piano when the village is under threat of an imminent attack. The novel concludes with an ambiguous ending which calls into suspicion Carroll’s activities and Drake’s unwitting and tragic involvement.

The novel’s strength lies in its detailed, sensuous description and vivid imagery of the landscape and culture. The colors, sights, sounds, and smells are immersive. The villagers’ daily activities and the children’s games and laughter are captured in vibrant detail. The technical details of piano tuning are impressive. Edgar Drake emerges as a well-rounded character, simultaneously baffled, enchanted, and seduced by the environment and by his attraction to the beautiful, Khin Myo, Carroll’s mistress. Khin Myo and Anthony Carroll are not as well developed. She is exoticized. He remains elusive; his activities, a mystery. Perhaps this was intentional on Mason’s part. However, coupled with the ambiguity of the ending, the novel falls short of delivering a sense of closure, which may not appeal to some readers.

After You'd Gone

Maggie O’Farrell

Although After You’d Gone is Maggie O’Farrell’s first novel, she already shows promise of her wide-ranging talents as a writer. The novel’s ambitious structure consists of multiple timeframes, multiple threads, and the perspectives of three generations of women: Alice, her mother, and her grandmother. The main thread is about Alice.

The novel opens with Alice impulsively deciding to visit her family in Scotland. She is obviously in a great deal of emotional and psychological pain although we are not told the cause. Her two sisters meet her at the Edinburgh train station. Alice barely has time to greet her sisters when she sees something shocking. She immediately decides to catch the train back to her home in London, without explaining why to her sisters. That night, suffering from depression and intense grief, she intentionally steps off the sidewalk and is hit by a car. She ends up in a coma in hospital where she remains for most of the novel.

The novel then flashes back to Alice as a child and her fraught relationship with her mother; her university days; her employment in London at a national arts organization; her marriage to the love of her life; and her intense grief following her husband’s untimely death. Interspersed throughout Alice’s thread is the backstory of Elspeth, Alice’s grandmother; and Ann, her mother.

The novel’s shifts in perspective and spontaneous leaps in time which mingle the past with the present can be a confusing at the outset until one gets into the rhythm of the novel. The flashbacks are presented as interlocking vignettes, shedding light on the three generations of women and their back stories. The main thread is on Alice’s fraught childhood, her tense relationship with her mother, and her relationships with men. Unlike her Scottish grandmother who is methodical and calm; and unlike her English mother who is cold and dogmatic; Alice is emotional, moody, unconventional, and impetuous.

All the characters, including the minor ones, are authentically drawn. O’Farrell is an astute observer of minute details. She frequently juxtaposes a minor detail with a character’s climactic moment. She captures her character’s interiority, mannerisms, and the incidentals that distract attention, all of which contribute to a realistic portrayal. Her depiction of Alice’s despair and grief after the death of her husband is heart-wrenching.

The complex, interlocking structure gradually uncovers the lives of the three women, revealing secrets and illicit love affairs. But the beating heart of the novel lies with Alice, her boundless capacity for love, and her equally boundless capacity for experiencing grief at its loss.

Another great Maggie O’Farrell novel.

The Last Song of Penelope

Claire North

The Last Song of Penelope by Claire North is the third and final book in North’s The Songs of Penelope series. Each book is narrated by a different goddess: Ithaca by Hera; House of Odysseus by Aphrodite; The Last Song of Penelope by Athena. As she does in her previous books, North takes some liberties with Homer’s epic poems. But her story is so engaging and so well executed that her departures from the original myth are inspiring.

With Athena as its irreverent narrator, the last book in the trilogy opens with Penelope still struggling to maintain some semblance of order in Ithaca. Along comes Odysseus disguised as a beggar from Crete. North departs from the original myth by making it clear Penelope immediately recognizes him as Odysseus. Penelope goes along with his ruse until she can figure out how best to handle the situation. She strategizes with her council of women and devises a contest to give Odysseus the opportunity to reveal himself and defeat the suitors.

The slaughter of the suitors is described in graphic detail. Odysseus orders the execution of three maids who ostensibly betrayed him. Penelope prevents further executions and rages at him for slaughtering the women whom she relied on to be her accomplices and informants during his twenty-year absence. The household then escapes to Laertes’ farm where they are besieged by the suitors’ fathers and their army, demanding revenge. Thanks to Penelope’s foresight, planning, and her loyal circle of female warriors, they are able to overcome the siege. The novel ends with reconciliation between Odysseus and Penelope.

The narrative moves at a brisk pace. North skillfully weaves stories from Greek mythology throughout. Athena’s critique and running commentary on the characters and events as they unfold contributes in large part to the success of the novel. She is witty, insightful, engaging, and thoroughly entertaining. She moves the narrative along, providing insight into each character’s interiority. Her assessment of her divine siblings and their shortcomings is amusing.

North’s characters are realistically rendered although some bear little resemblance to their Homeric counterparts. Telemachus is the same sniveling child desperate to win daddy’s approval. He falls short every time he tries to assert himself. Penelope is brilliant, resourceful, astute, strategic in her thinking, and highly competent in building alliances. She outsmarts the men, including Odysseus. And she earns Athena’s respect for her intelligence and talents.

North takes the biggest liberty in her portrayal of Odysseus. The battle-hardened, ruthless, cunning, and macho male Homeric Odysseus is transformed into a remorseful, self-critical, and guilt-ridden character. He apologizes to Penelope for slaughtering her women, acknowledges her skills and the invaluable contribution of women, and (shock of all shocks!) takes the advice of a female warrior on preparing for the impending battle. Some of the most delightful scenes in the novel occur in the bantering back and forth between Penelope and Odysseus as they size each other up and as Odysseus slowly realizes how seriously he has underestimated Penelope’s abilities. This new, improved, and humbled Odysseus is a far cry from the Odysseus of Trojan War fame.

Kudos to Claire North for having the gumption to turn Odysseus into a budding feminist; for centering her lens on women marginalized in the original myths; and for illustrating the power of female solidarity.

Although not exactly Homer, this is, nevertheless, a deliciously feminist rendering of the myth.

The Land of Green Plums

Herta Muller; trans. Michael Hofmann

The Land of Green Plums by Herta Muller, the 2009 winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature, is translated by Michael Hofmann. Like Muller, the unnamed narrator of the novel is of the German-speaking minority in Romania; and, like Muller, her father was in the SS. Along with her three friends, the narrator tries to navigate as best she can while living under the watchful eyes of the government.

One never knows what to expect. The narrator and her three friends are routinely followed by mysterious-looking men. They are periodically called in for interrogation by a government official accompanied by his menacing dog. The goal is to intimidate them into submission. The friends are constantly looking over their shoulders, reading and hiding banned books, speaking in code, subject to searches of their personal belongings, and live with the uncertainty of who to trust and/or who may be a potential informer. Conversations are halting since people are afraid to articulate their thoughts aloud. Peppered throughout are references of disappearances, suicides, escapes, and people being killed while trying to escape. Two of the three friends are found dead under mysterious circumstances.

The narrative is sporadic in nature, with stops and starts of vignettes that thread themselves throughout the novel. The erratic flow captures the jagged atmosphere of fear and trepidation Romanians experienced while living under Ceausescu’s dictatorship. Rather than adhering to a plot, the narrative creates an atmosphere of fear, ambivalence, harassment, deprivation, and uncertainty. Shortages of food and material goods leave the population so hungry that some resort to nefarious means to satisfy their hunger. Some drink animal blood; some stuff themselves with stolen green plums; others exchange sex for food. Women are particularly vulnerable and subject to sexual assault by men in police uniforms or in military garb.

With her unflinching lens, Herta Muller successfully captures the haunting and menacing atmosphere of life under a dictatorship and its long-term corrosive consequences.

Not an easy read, but a powerful one.

One Hundred Years of Solitude

Gabriel Garcia Marquez; trans. Gregory Rabassa

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, translated from the Spanish by Gregory Rabassa, and winner of the 1982 Nobel Prize in Literature, is a gripping novel that combines magical realism with actual events in Colombian history. It is at once a fantastic tale; an indictment of capitalism; a political commentary on historical events, including the civil war and the Banana massacre; and exposes the manner in which historical events are buried in official narratives.

The novel tells the story of generations of the Buendia family and their fictional town of Macondo. From the family home that deteriorates with time, then gets a face-lift, deteriorates again to get another face-life with each successive generation, ad infinitum; to the endless number of male descendants named Arcadio or Aureliano; the pattern throughout is cyclical. The faces are interchangeable but the characters’ fates assume an uncanny similarity, generation after generation. Add to the mixture ghosts that communicate with their descendants, magic carpet rides, a woman who disappears into the clouds, a rain storm that lasts for more than a year, a patriarch tied to a tree, incestuous relationships with sisters and aunts, marital infidelities, a bout of insomnia that plagues the whole village, a slew of illegitimate offspring, the walking dead, babies born with pigs’ tails, and you begin to get a picture of this fantastical world Marquez has created .

The novel defies categorization or explanation. It lacks a clear narrative arc and is episodic in nature. Bursting at the seams with life and energy, it stitches together the absurd with the real, giving each equal weight and validity. The novel is confusing, frustrating, and perplexing. But if one surrenders to its ups and downs, to its ins and outs, it can be as exhilarating as a memorable roller-coaster ride that leaves one breathless.

A whirlwind tour de force.

84 Charing Cross Road

Helene Hanff

84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff consists of a twenty-year correspondence primarily between Helene Hanff, an American writer; and Frank Doel, a bookseller at Marks & Co., a bookstore in London’s Charing Cross Road.

These letters are an absolute delight. The two share an obvious love of English literature as well as a very evident enjoyment in receiving one another’s letters. Helene’s requests for books are peppered with humor and an extensive knowledge of English literature. In between sharing intermittent smatterings of her life in New York and her many writing projects, she jokes, pleads, and cajoles Frank Doel to send her specific editions of cherished books. She chastises him when he sends her books that don’t meet her standards. For his part, Doel strives to meet her every request. His letters ooze with delight when he is able to find just what she wants.

Beginning in 1949, their correspondence lasts twenty years. In that period, Helene becomes a celebrity in the bookstore. She corresponds with the other staff members and with Frank’s wife, daughters, and neighbor. When her American friends visit the bookstore, they are treated as honored guests by the staff who shower them with profuse praise and appreciation for Ms. Hanff.

England of 1949 is still experiencing the crippling after-effects of WWII, including limited rations. Helene sends the staff meat, chocolate, eggs, and other staples that are hard to come by in England. They reciprocate by sending her gifts of books and a beautifully embroidered table-cloth.

In spite of her efforts to save enough money to visit England, and in spite of the numerous invitations to stay in their homes, Helene is never able to visit England or to meet face-to-face with the staff of her beloved bookstore. Sadly, after twenty years, the correspondence ends with the untimely death of Frank Doel from complications of a ruptured appendix.

A quick read and a delightfully charming classic.

The Paris Library

Janet Skeslien Charles

The Paris Library by Janet Skeslien Charles unfolds in a dual timeline. It opens in Paris in 1939 when Odile completes library school and obtains a position as a librarian at the American Library in Paris. An avid reader, she memorizes the Dewey Decimal call numbers associated with books and frequently peppers them as references. The narrative then shifts to the second timeline with the first-person voice of Lily, a teenage girl living in Montana in 1984. Lily just happens to be Odile’s neighbor, and the two strike up a friendship. The narrative alternates between the two timeframes.

Odile’s increasing involvement with the library coincides with Germany’s advance into France. When Paris is occupied by the Germans, Odile surreptitiously transports library books to Jewish patrons who are forbidden to enter the library. Her twin brother is captured by the Germans, is placed in a prisoner of war camp, and later dies. She becomes involved in a relationship with a French policeman, marries him, but then abandons him when she learns of how he punished her English friend for having an affair with a Nazi.

Meanwhile, Lily’s friendship with Odile is cemented after Lily’s mother dies. She takes French lessons from Odile and scatters her sentences with French words. Their friendship is temporarily severed when Lily finds letters in Odile’s possession that lead her to suspect Odile collaborated with the Nazis. Odile explains how she came to possess the letters and confides in Lily details of her background, her activities during the occupation, and her marriage to an American. The two reignite their friendship, and the novel ends with Lily on her way to France.

Janet Skeslien Charles worked in the American Library in Paris in 2010, conducted research on the library’s activities during the war years, and integrated the stories of real-life employees and patrons who undertook a form of resistance to German occupation. Unfortunately, her description is lackluster and replete with unnecessary and obvious fillers. She fails to capture the tension and palpable danger that must have existed in war time Paris. Her characters, none of whom are particularly endearing, are flat, uninteresting, and never come alive. Relationships are formed hurriedly and fail to emerge organically. Odile’s betrayal of her friend and subsequent abandonment of her French husband is glossed over flippantly. Lily’s coming-of-age narrative drags, is unconvincing, and does little to contribute to Odile’s story. And much of the narrative, especially the ending, feels contrived.

A disappointing read for material that had a lot of potential.

The Discomfort of Evening

Marieke Lucas Rijneveld; trans. Michele Hutchison

Set on a dairy farm in the Netherlands, The Discomfort of Evening by Marieke Lucas Rijneveld, translated from the Dutch by Michele Hutchison, is a dark and disturbing novel about a family unraveling after the accidental death of Matthies, the eldest son.

The novel unfolds in the first-person voice of ten-year-old Jas. Angry that her brother won’t take her when he goes ice-skating, Jas wishes he would die instead of her rabbit. When Matthies dies by falling through the ice, Jas’ unraveling begins—an unraveling compounded by watching her family fall apart.

The family’s repression, guilt, and grief manifest themselves in different ways. The parents offer no comfort to their children and basically abandon them to fend for themselves. The father buries his grief by citing words from the Bible. The mother stops eating, becoming little more than a skeletal frame. She openly expresses her wish to die even in front of her children. Jas’ other brother, Obbe, resorts to performing acts of barbaric cruelty on animals and then on his sisters and their friends. He bashes his head obsessively on the bedframe each night. And Jas’ little sister shares her fantasy of going to “the other side.” At one point, she bizarrely inserts her tongue into her sister’s mouth. In a desperate attempt to comfort herself, Jas wraps her body in a tatty red coat, refusing to remove it. She sticks a drawing pin in her belly button and watches with indifference as it begins to scab. Additionally, she suffers from chronic constipation.

The novel is replete with unfettered cruelty to humans and animals. Scenes of violence in which every orifice in the human body is penetrated by a foreign object are described in graphic detail. To remedy Jas’ constipation, her father stuffs soap in her anus to make her go to the bathroom. Obbe routinely kills animals in front of his sisters. And in one very disturbing scene, a metal artificial insemination gun is forced into the body of one of Jas’ friends. Scatological descriptions abound as does a morbid exploration of the human body and human sexuality. The children’s dirty fingers poke around in nasty places. Descriptions are visceral and border on being gross.

The novel’s strength lies in its use of painstaking detail to describe a family spiraling toward disaster because of an inability to cope with the loss of the eldest son. Grief is repressed, which only compounds their problems. The parents’ indifference and/or obliviousness concerning their children’s welfare as they descend into increasingly barbaric and violent behavior is horrifying. Jas’ observations and painful interiority while her family falls apart are tragic and heartbreaking.

Although the novel is well-written and was awarded the 2020 Booker International Prize, its subject and manner of execution is not for the faint-hearted or for those who cannot read graphic details of bodily functions or of cruelty to humans and animals.

The Frozen River

Ariel Lawhorn

The Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon is inspired by the diary entries of an 18thC midwife and healer, Martha Ballard. The novel unfolds in two threads with different time frames. The opening thread is set in Hallowell, Maine, in 1789, when Martha is summoned to examine a body discovered in the frozen river. The body is one of the two men accused of raping Rebecca Foster. Martha concludes the man was beaten and hung before being thrown in the river. The second and much shorter thread goes back three decades in time and includes background on Martha’s family and early life in the Hallowell community.

The novel includes excerpts from Martha’s actual diary as she tries to piece together who murdered the accused rapist. She testifies in court proceedings about the murder and includes in her testimony the accusation of rape. But her efforts and the efforts of the young rape victim are complicated because the second alleged rapist is a judge and a respected member of the community. In between court appearances, testimonies, and her own investigations, Martha is called upon to assist one woman after another during labor and delivery. Most of these women are giving birth out of wedlock, which causes the rumor mill to flourish with questions of paternity. Complications ensue when Martha and her husband are threatened with an illegal eviction, when one of their sons is accused of the murder, and when the Rebecca discovers she carries the child of one of her rapists.

The novel is slow-paced and meandering. There is a lot of exposition which drags the narrative. The second thread, which goes back decades, does little to add to the main thread of the novel other than to suggest Martha, herself, had been raped. The smatterings of citations from Shakespeare’s plays felt pretentious.

As a character, Martha is not very sympathetic. She comes across as arrogant, self-righteous, and condescending. Her relationship with her husband is overdone and unrealistic. They have sex almost every time they interact as if they are two hormonal teenagers who can’t keep their hands off each other. And one of the final scenes in which Martha lashes out violently at the second rapist to protect herself is predictable and bordering on farce.

All in all, a disappointing read.

The Hand that First Held Mine

Maggie O’Farrell

 The Hand that First Held Mine by Maggie O’Farrell rotates between two separate timelines, decades apart, that are seemingly unconnected but which overlap at the end of the novel when the past sneaks up into the present.  

The first timeline occurs in the late 1950s when Lexie Sinclair leaves her cloistered Devonshire home to make a life for herself in London. She falls in love with a dashing magazine editor, Innes Kent. She moves in with him and works at his magazine where she hones her skills as a journalist, is exposed to art, artists, writers, Soho nightclubs, and travel.

The second timeline occurs decades later in the present day. Elina, a successful artist, has narrowly escaped bleeding to death in a complicated C-section. Still woozy and confused from so much blood loss, Elina struggles with parenting her newborn son and with making sense of what has happened to her. Her boyfriend, Ted, tries to be supportive, but he, too, is traumatized by seeing her so close to death.

The timelines alternate and develop independently with no apparent connection. Lexie suffers the loss of the love of her life. Her later involvement with a television journalist results in a pregnancy and birth of a son. Meanwhile Elina, suffering from lack of sleep and exhaustion, becomes increasingly concerned about Ted who begins experiencing blackouts and flashbacks. Although decades apart, Lexie and Elina have much in common. Both are both involved in the art world, struggle with motherhood to varying degrees, are fiercely passionate and protective of their infants, and try to regain their balance after the shock of motherhood.

O’Farrell weaves both timelines in a masterly fashion, drawing the reader into the lives of two different women in two different time frames. The novel is threaded with flashbacks, flashforwards, and foreshadowing. Ted’s flashbacks, triggered by the birth of his son, consist of fleeting images of a past he tries to decipher. Innes Kent’s magazine office is transformed into a coffee bar to be frequented by Ted fifty years later.

O’Farrell’s attention to detail, colorful images, and ability to imbue mundane activities with significance is uncanny. Her characters are authentic, well-rounded, interesting, and fully believable. Lexie and Elina are fascinating and particularly well-drawn. The descriptions of the city’s sights, sounds, and smells are immersive. But where O’Farrell excels is in her depiction of new motherhood, especially in the case of Elina. In words that mesmerize, she captures the exhaustion, desperation, fear, and overwhelming flood of emotions that Elina experiences as a first-time mother. These sections are breathtaking and illuminating.

O’Farrell flaunts rules of grammar, shifts verb tenses at leisure, and jumps from past to present and back again. One doesn’t quite know what to expect. She holds the reader’s attention at every turn with her consummate writing skills. A gifted writer with incredible range, Maggie O’Farrell has done it, again. She has produced another riveting tale from beginning to end.

Whale Fall

Elizabeth O’Connor

Whale Fall by Elizabeth O’Connor is a haunting book about a small, sparsely populated island off the Welsh coast. The year is 1938. The novel unfolds in the first-person voice of Manod, an 18-year-old who lives on the island with her younger sister and father. Manod has shouldered the responsibility for her younger sister since their mother’s death. She is better educated than most of the island’s inhabitants and is fluent in English. She is torn between her yearning to leave the island and her commitment to community, culture, and family.

The island is described through the unfiltered eyes of Manod. It is three miles long and hosts only twelve families. Life is a constant struggle. In addition to the isolation, the islanders have to contend with harsh weather, biting winds, and bitter winters. The sea, which provides the only source of income, can be unforgiving, drowning many of the fishermen. The dwindling population is due to relocations to the main land and to the number of deaths by drowning or during combat in the previous war.

Manod does not romanticize her life or her surroundings. Her descriptions are unabashedly honest. She recognizes the harsh reality and daily struggles while simultaneously exhibiting compassion and sensitivity toward the island’s inhabitants. Her descriptions are immersive, evoking the sounds, smells, sights, and texture of life on the island. Her description of the monstrous body and gradual decay of a beached whale is done in graphic detail.

Edward and Joan, two English anthropologists, arrive on the island to chronicle the life styles, habits, activities, superstitions, and folk tales of the islanders for their new book. They hire Manod as their translator since neither speak Welsh. They transcribe the islanders’ testimonies, superstitions, and folk tales. But much of their research is inauthentic since they re-shape reality to suit their projected image of the islander’s as leading ostensibly simple lives in harmony with nature. They exoticize life on the island. They stage photographs of the islanders. They ignore Manod’s attempts correct their misrepresentations in both word and image. To complicate matters, Manod and Edward become lovers. This leads to betrayal, disappointment, and outright theft.

O’Connor’s prose is restrained, spare, and effective. She captures the island with atmospheric detail and vivid imagery. Witnessing the world through Manod’s eyes, we come to share her gradual understanding that Edward and Joan have little interest in depicting island life as it is. They take advantage of the islanders’ naivete and isolation. They offer false hope. They objectify Manod, objectify the islanders, and exploit and twist reality with an aim to increase sales for their upcoming book.

A quiet and moving meditation on the awakening of a young girl to the harsh realities of objectification and exploitation.

Qur'an of the Oppressed: Liberation Theology and Gender Justice in Islam

Shadaab Rahemtulla

Qur’an of the Oppressed: Liberation Theology and Gender Justice in Islam by Shadaab Rahemtulla is a comprehensive survey and analysis of the commentaries of four Muslim thinkers who interpret the Qur’an as a liberating text that addresses social problems, including patriarchy, racism, classism, poverty, and violence.

The study explores the exegesis of four Muslim intellectuals: Farid Esack from South Africa; Asghar Ali Engineer from India; the African American, Amina Wadud; and the Pakistani American, Asma Barlas. As Rahemtulla shows, they have all been influenced in their choice of topic by the environment, struggles, and challenges they faced. As a South African activist engaged in the anti-apartheid movement, Farid Esack’s exegesis focuses on interfaith solidarity, liberation, and pluralism. As a Muslim living in India where there is communal conflict between Muslims and Hindus, Engineer focuses on the themes of social justice, peaceful reconciliation, and interfaith relations. And Wadud and Barlas focus on gender equality and the interlocking circles of oppression of gender, race, and class.

A thoroughly comprehensive study of these four Muslim intellectuals. Their exegesis offers refreshing insights and informative interpretations which highlight the connections between the Qur’anic text and liberation theology.

Remarkably Bright Creatures

Shelby Van Pelt

Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt weaves different story threads that merge at the end of the novel.

Tova, a woman in her seventies, works as a cleaning lady in the aquarium at Sowell Bay. She recently lost her husband and, thirty years ago, her only son died in a tragic drowning accident. Tova has friends, but she is lonely. She takes pride in cleaning the aquarium and talks to the sea creatures, especially Marcellus, the giant Pacific octopus.

Cameron is an immature thirty-year-old who was abandoned by his drug-addicted mother to be raised by his aunt. He never knew his father. Short on money and in-between jobs, Cameron decides to go to Sowell Bay where his mother attended school to confront the man whom he assumes to be his father. He takes a temporary job at the aquarium to cover for Tova when she is injured. Not unexpectedly, Cameron and Tova’s paths cross and they become friends. Tova educates him on proper cleaning procedures and introduces him to her other friend, Marcellus.

Observing the two interact is Marcellus. Speaking in the first-person in short chapters interspersed throughout the narrative threads, Marcellus comments on the quirks of human behavior. Observant, astute, and intelligent, he recognizes the familial connection between Tova and Cameron long before they do. He drops mementos connecting the two in strategic places where Tova can find them, thereby orchestrating her gradual awareness of her connection to Cameron.

The novel drags in the beginning but then it picks up the pace. The characters lack depth and complexity. The diction is without frills and straight forward. The feel-good ending is very predictable. And although the series of coincidences coupled with the improbable antics of an octopus require a high suspension of disbelief, the novel is a quick, easy, and somewhat enjoyable read.

This Must Be the Place

Maggie O’Farrell

This Must be the Place by Maggie O’Farrell is an engaging, skillfully constructed masterpiece.

The novel’s main focus is on two individuals, Daniel Sullivan and Claudette Wells. Daniel, an American professor of linguistics, reeling from a divorce and having lost access to his two children, arrives in Donegal, Ireland, to retrieve his grandfather’s ashes. While there, he meets Claudette Wells and her son, Ari. Claudette is a once famous movie star with a reputation for unpredictable behavior. She has faked her own death, abandoned her former life of glitz and glamour and media notoriety, lives in seclusion in a broken-down farmhouse in Donegal, and jealously guards her anonymity. This seemingly mismatched couple fall in love, marry, and have two children.

The novel unfolds through the perspectives of multiple narrators, leaps backwards and forwards in time, and hops across continents. But the focus is always on Daniel or Claudette, their children, friends, family, and the strangers with whom they interact although how they are connected isn’t immediately apparent.

O’Farrell is unafraid to take risks. She introduces new characters late in the novel. She foreshadows events. She drops partial secrets and misdeeds in one chapter only to pick up the thread in a later chapter. She includes a chapter listing items for auction once belonging to the famous Claudette. It sounds like a veritable hodge-podge, but in the very capable hands of Maggie O’Farrell, it falls into place like a beautifully woven tapestry. And it is all done with spectacular panache.

O’Farrell’s characters, including those appearing for just one or two chapters, are fully developed, strong, authentic, and relatable. She excels in her portrayal of Daniel, Claudette, and their children, especially Ari and Niall. She includes a rich cast of secondary characters, each with a distinctive voice and back story. The dialogue is realistic throughout; the introspection genuine; the story-line absorbing.

O’Farrell has an unmistakable ability to freeze moments in time and capture pivotal moments in a relationship. Her characters, haunted by their past misdeeds, arouse sympathy. Daniel, especially, struggles to come to terms with his guilt. What ultimately saves him and saves the family is the undying, unconditional love they have for one another in spite of the tragedies and missteps that beset their lives. Their dogged determination to support one another through it all is heartwarming and gratifying.

An intensely absorbing family saga about love, forgiveness, and family. It is ambitiously structured, stylistically complex, and skillfully rendered. An impressive tour de force.

Babylonia

Costanza Casati

Babylonia by Costanza Casati opens in Assyria in the year 823 BCE. Blending history with mythology and historical figures with fictional ones, Casati tells the story of Semiramis, a poor orphan girl who becomes queen of Assyria. An intelligent and resourceful young girl, Semiramis learns to fend for herself in Eber-Nari, an outpost of the kingdom. When Onnes, the new governor, arrives to claim the outpost for King Ninus of Assyria, Semiramis attracts his attention and he takes her back to his home in Kalhu to be his wife.

Semiramis adapts to life in the kingdom as the governor’s wife. She meets King Ninus, her husband’s half-brother, who shows little interest in her and more interest in her husband. Onnes and Ninus grew up together and share a strong bond. Their relationship is modeled on that of Gilgamesh and Enkidu as told in the 4,000- year-old Mesopotamian epic, The Epic of Gilgamesh. Semiramis soon realizes she is an outsider in their relationship.

Meanwhile, the kingdom is in the throes of a civil war. This is followed by a short period of peace. But then a new war to acquire territory and resources begins. Semiramis participates in one of the battles and distinguishes herself as a strong fighter. Her success leads to a complication since she and Ninus fall in love. Ninus becomes obsessed with her and presents Onnes the option of giving up his wife. Rather than doing so, Onnes kills himself. After her husband’s suicide, Semiramis marries Ninus. She assumes the throne as queen of Assyria when her husband dies of injuries he receives in battle. She takes on the title of Sammuramat, “High Heaven.”

The historical Semiramis ruled Assyria for five years until her son came to power. Casati conducted extensive research on Assyria and on Semiramis to write the novel. She takes the bare bones of what is known about Semiramis and her trajectory from an abused orphan in a backwater village to the queen of Assyria. Her description of court life with all its intrigue, secrets, power dynamics, and love interests is engrossing. The sights, sounds, and smells of the court as well as of the battles are vividly described in immersive detail.

Casati’s characters are authentic, well-developed, complex, and tortured. Onnes is tormented by the death of his mother and harbors a guilty secret. Ninus is tortured by his love for Onnes, by the demands placed on him as king, and by the love he later comes to feel for Semiramis. And Semiramis loves both men. She is also ambitious, politically astute, resourceful, courageous, manipulative, and a survivor. The relationship between the three main characters is complex, flawed, and riddled with apprehension and uncertainty.

Just as she did with Clytemnestra, Costanza Casati has written another compelling historical fiction. She successfully blends myth with history and transports the reader to a different time and place in clear and effective prose.

Highly recommended.

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

Ocean Vuong

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong takes the form of a letter to the narrator’s mother, a Vietnamese immigrant who knows little English and is illiterate. Although he knows there is virtually no likelihood his mother will ever read or understand his letter, he writes it from a need to process and articulate traumatic childhood memories, and to unburden himself to his mother.

The novel is a coming-of-age story of a young Vietnamese American growing up in Hartford, Connecticut, in the 1990s. Known as “Little Dog,” he is raised by his grandmother, Lan, and his mother, Rose. Included in his letter are painful descriptions of being bullied in school; his frustration with his inability to communicate adequately in English; his father’s abuse of his mother; his struggles with his sexuality; his first love affair and sexual encounter with a drug-addicted, teenage boy. Appearing intermittently throughout the letter are incidents of verbal and physical abuse he experiences at the hands of his mother. Suffering from PTSD, she slaps him, punches him, and throws things at him. He cowers in pain until his grandmother intervenes by shielding his body from his mother’s rage.

The narrative is fractured, the chronology non-linear, and there is no plot. The narrator provides smatterings of information about his grandmother’s background in Vietnam; the trauma of war; his family’s immigration to the U.S.; the cultural clash his mother experiences in America; his feelings of alienation and loneliness as a child; his family’s dogged determination to survive; and his experiences now as an educated, successful writer. Each of these threads is picked up, developed, and dropped, only to be picked up again later in the narrative. The threads flow into one another and coalesce to capture the trauma he and his family experience. But they also capture the steadfast and resilient love that binds them together.

The novel has biographical elements since Vuong, born in Saigon in 1988, immigrated to Hartford in the 1990s with his parents and grandmother. He is an accomplished poet, receiving awards and prizes for his poetry. Not surprisingly, his language is lyrical and eloquent. His use of specific details to evoke an experience, a setting, or a feeling is impressive. His tortured interiority is authentic. He does not shy away from describing in visceral detail even the most difficult scenes.

The narrative is poignant, painful, heartfelt, and intimate. This is not an easy read but a rewarding one. Vuong effectively captures the lingering trauma on survivors of war, a family’s struggle to adapt to a new culture, and a sensitive child’s anguish at being bullied and tormented by classmates.

A Wolf Called Romeo

Nick Jans

Part memoir, part natural history, A Wolf Called Romeo by Nick Jans is the true story of a large, black-haired wolf in Juneau, Alaska, who likes to be-friend and play with dogs.

It all began in December 2003. Jans was out with his dogs on a frozen lake when they encountered a black-haired wolf, later named Romeo. The four-legged animals approach each other, and in the blink of an eye, they romp about and play together. What started as a chance encounter soon became routine. Romeo would wait for them and come bounding across the frozen lake as soon as he saw Jans’ dog. He soon befriended other dogs out for walks with their owners.

It didn’t take long for Romeo to become a celebrity. His celebrity status attracted visitors from out of town as well as local residents. People would bring their dogs to lure Romeo and take photos of him. Before long, a schism developed in the town between those who wanted him removed or killed for safety reasons, those who wanted to hunt him, and those who wanted him left alone since no credible evidence had surfaced to suggest Romeo had ever hurt a dog or a human. He was just a sociable wolf who liked to play with dogs. The situation continued for several years until Romeo’s tragic demise in 2009.

The narrative of Romeo and his antics is peppered with a smattering of Jans’ personal memoirs, information about wolves, and profiles of neighbors—those who consider Romeo a friend and are inspired by him, and those who want him removed. Grainy black and white photos are included of Romeo with dogs and humans. Romeo’s uniqueness and affable personality is the thread that ties these pieces together. He is playful, shows attachment toward certain dogs, and seems to understand and obey human commands. Why Romeo is sociable, playful, and even feels comfortable around specific humans remains a mystery.

Nick Jans description of the Alaskan landscape is breathtaking. His love for Romeo and concern for his welfare threads its way throughout the narrative. Romeo’s playful nature with dogs and comfort in being around humans is extraordinary and inspiring. In contrast, some of the nay saying humans come across as mean-spirited, cruel, and down right violent.

This is a compelling narrative of inter-species friendships. It prompts us to consider our relationship with the natural environment. Do we want to destroy it and destroy the species that call it home? Or do we want to nurture and preserve it because we recognize how precious it is and how our own survival as a species depends on it? 

Night Watch

Jayne Anne Phillips

Night Watch by Jayne Anne Phillips casts its unflinching lens on the impact of the Civil War on civilians and combatants. The novel alternates between the years 1874 and 1864. The Epilogue jumps to 1883.

The narrative opens in the first-person voice of young ConaLee. She is in a wagon with her mother, Eliza, and a sadistic veteran who calls himself “Papa.” Papa drops them off at the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum, a place that treats the mentally ill humanely and with compassion. Papa gives ConaLee strict instructions to assume a new identity at the asylum: she is to pretend she is her mother’s maid and that her mother is a woman of quality suffering a mental breakdown. The two are admitted into the asylum where Eliza, mute after suffering years of physical and sexual abuse at the hands of Papa, gradually begins to regain her speech and recover.

The novel flashes back to Eliza’s husband, the father of ConaLee. A sharp shooter in the Union Army, he suffers a severe head injury. He recovers in the hospital but experiences memory loss. He does not recall any detail of his personal life, including his name. He is assigned the name John O’Shea by his doctor and is employed as the night watchman at the same lunatic asylum where Eliza and ConaLee reside. But he does not recognize them as his family.

Against the backdrop of the Civil War, Eliza and ConaLee experience a personal war, described in graphic detail. They had been terrorized by the drunk, tyrannical Papa who imprisoned them in their home. Eliza was repeatedly raped and impregnated. She temporarily lost her ability to speak as a result of her trauma. The Civil War, with its chaos, stench, blood, fear, and dismembered bodies on the battlefield, is vividly evoked in the John O’Shea sections. Equally vivid is O’Shea’s journey to recovery from his brain injury as he struggles to makes sense of shapes, sounds, and the world around him.

The novel is infused with some heart-wrenching, haunting scenes that encapsulate the horrors of rape and war in visceral detail. But where the novel truly excels is in its character portrayals. Each of the characters comes alive with a unique interiority and in a voice that is appropriate to the individual’s age, ethnicity, and social class. This is especially true of the memorable Deerbhla, an elderly neighbor who once served as Eliza’s Irish nursemaid and who continues to nurture and protect Eliza and ConaLee as best she can. And then there is Weed, a young boy whose ramblings are barely coherent as he scampers on the asylum grounds. And, finally, there is ConaLee, a teenager who is forced to grow up before her time, who has had to assume the mothering role for her mother and younger siblings, and who guides and nurtures her mother until her recovery.

An intense and engaging novel, skillfully executed, and well deserving of the 2024 Pulitzer Prize for fiction.

Daughters of Sparta

Claire Heywood

Daughters of Sparta by Claire Heywood is the story of two sisters who have prominent roles in Greek mythology—Klytemnestra and Helen. The novel opens with them as young girls growing up in Sparta. The chapters alternate between the two sisters, giving each one’s perspective and interiority as the events unfold.

Klytemnestra is portrayed as more level-headed than her flighty but beautiful younger sister. She enjoys a strong bond with her sister and parents, especially with her mother. Helen wrestles with the sense her mother resents her, but she doesn’t know why. She internalizes this by frequently referring to herself as beautiful but unlovable. Eventually their father marries each sister off to a suitable partner to consolidate his political power. Klytemnestra is parceled off to Agamemnon; Helen is parceled off to his brother, Menelaos. Klytemnestra locates to Mycenea with Agamemnon; Helen remains in Sparta with Menelaos. The sisters never reunite.

Each sister enters her marriage with fear but with hopes of leading a fulfilling married life. And each experiences a rude awakening when confronted with patriarchal double standards and gender hierarchy. Agamemnon physically and mentally abuses Klytemnestra and is unfaithful to her. Helen feels Menelaos deprives her of affection, reinforcing her belief she is beautiful but unlovable.

Heywood weaves events familiar to readers of Greek mythology into the narrative, but she modifies them. Unfortunately, they aren’t given the substance and weight of the originals. They are handled in a perfunctory manner in diction that is tepid. The narrative suffers from too much telling and too little showing. The pacing is uneven and lacks consistency. The main problem, however, lies in the depiction of characters, none of whom is fully-developed. This is especially true of Klytemnestra and Helen who never come alive. They are one-dimensional, bland, and lack energy and spark. They are depicted as little more than pawns in the hands of men who either bully them into submission or win them over with vacuous flattery.

The Klytemnestra of Greek mythology is a fierce mother, hell-bent on revenge. Here, she is portrayed as weak and hesitant, equivocating between should I or shouldn’t I kill the man who murdered my daughter. Helen, who famously launches a thousand ships, is flighty, self-absorbed, and silly. She runs off with the first handsome stranger who ogles at her beauty without considering the consequences of her actions.

As her debut novel, the author deserves credit for attempting a re-telling of two powerful women in Greek mythology. But by turning them into weak, timid women who are more acted upon than acting, she deprives them of their mythical stature, diminishing their agency, power, and complexity.

The Painter's Daughters

Emily Howes

The Painter’s Daughters by Emily Howes explores the family history and strong bond between Thomas Gainsborough’s two daughters, Molly and Peggy. The story unfolds in two seemingly disparate threads that develop separately. The primary thread tells the story of Molly and Peggy. Peggy, the younger of the two daughters, narrates the thread. The secondary thread involves Meg, an innkeeper’s daughter. The connection between the two threads does not become apparent until the end of the novel. Thomas Gainsborough hovers in the background of the first thread, occasionally emerging from his studio where he paints society portraits. He loves his daughters but has little time for them, much to Peggy’s disappointment.

Although younger than her sister, Peggy takes on the role of caretaker for her older sister when Molly begins to exhibit signs of mental illness. Molly behaves erratically, freezes, expresses random thoughts, hallucinates, and is non-responsive. Peggy controls her sister’s behavior through violence, by locking her in the bedroom, and tying a lock of her hair to the bedpost so she can’t escape at night. She is determined to keep her sister’s episodes of mental illness a secret even from their parents. She has heard of Bedlam, the lunatic asylum, and is fiercely determined to protect Molly from being carted off there. Their parents overlook Molly’s affliction and blame Peggy whenever a problem arises. But there comes a time when the parents can no longer deny the problem. The family hides Molly’s mental illness, living in constant terror of exposure.

This thread is periodically interrupted with the story of Meg, the innkeeper’s daughter, who becomes pregnant by the young prince Frederick of England. Meg runs away to London to seek economic support from Frederick. He agrees to provide for her and her baby through his friend. The two threads, which connect at the end of the novel, not only explain Meg’s relationship to the Gainsborough daughters, they also explain the cause of Molly’s madness.

Howes convincingly captures Peggy’s interiority. Her life becomes so intertwined with that of her sister’s, it is as if they have merged into one person. Underneath the seemingly normal veneer of laughter and childish pranks, Peggy carries a burden of anxiety, always on the lookout and ready to shelter her sister at the first sign of a mental relapse. She is torn between seeking her own happiness and sacrificing her happiness to be her sister’s protector. Her anxiety eventually leads to bouts with bulimia.

The novel is rich in detail of life in 18th century Bath with its sights, sounds, smells, and behaviors of the upper classes. Howes conducted extensive research on Thomas Gainsborough, his family, and his portraits. She weaves Gainsborough’s haunting portraits of his daughters seamlessly into the story line. Her narrative is engaging, convincing, and captures the extent to which sisterly and maternal love will go to protect a loved one.