Review: The Woman in the Library

The Woman in the Library by Sulari Gentill
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The Woman in the Library, by author Sulari Gentill, is like no other book I’ve ever read.  The risks Gentill takes in turning the traditional structure of a murder mystery on its ear are at once intriguing and frustrating; the source of not only the book’s strengths but also it’s weaknesses.

The chapters in the book are the work of fictional author Hannah Tigone.  She is an Australian writer using a beta reader in the US, Leo Johnson, to help her stay true to the setting she has chosen in the US.  The book initially alternates  between the story Hannah Tigone is writing (a piece set in Boston, the premise of which is a writer developing a murder mystery) and the letters she then receives from her beta reader as she shares with him each chapter upon its completion.  In Leo’s letters to Tigone, he corrects some of her Australian word choices to more appropriate American phrasing and suggests adjustments of details based on the area of Boston where the story is set.  Leo is himself a writer, though he has not enjoyed the successes of Tigone, and he doesn’t hesitate to boldly assert himself in proposing tweaks and changes, some minor and some which could potentially alter the entire plot of Tigone’s work.  His letters become increasingly aggressive in their suggestions as the story progresses; his recommendations more violent and graphic.  The reader is not, however, given any insight into Tigone’s reactions beyond what Leo responds to and a few other communications directed to Tigone that are included (to elaborate on this point would mean spoilers, which I am loathe to include). If it sounds confusing, that’s because it is.  While the “story within a story” has certainly been done before, the structure of The Woman in the Library takes it one step further, testing both the loyalty and patience of the reader.  If the reader doesn’t immediately catch on to what Gentill is trying to do, the result is seemingly unrelated chapters that refuse to connect.  The upshot is that this is a novel that contains chapters of another novel, written by a fictional author, the content of which is the story of a mystery writer awarded a grant  that allows her to travel to the US from Australia in order to write her book.  Those chapters  alternate with letters from the fictional author’s beta reader. Yeah.   It’s quite a monumental task for both author and reader.

I appreciate the risks Gentill takes in her storytelling.  They keep the reader focused, if only to stay on top of the ever-changing perspective and media being shared.  The transitions between Leo’s letters and suggestions and the mystery being written by the fictional author are sometimes awkward and abrupt.  While this may have been intentional, for me it removed me from the story in an effort to “keep up”.  Further more, Gentill’s approach to character development (there was none for Tigone) made the entire book feel distant, as if I as the reader was being held at an arm’s length instead of being invited in to meet the cast.  This feeling of being an outsider colored my ability to invest in either Leo’s spiraling mental state or the story Tigone is writing.  Even the characters within the mystery are under developed and almost ethereal—shallow and transparent to the point of appearing as rough outlines of who they could have become under the direction of a more experienced writer.  

I appear to be in the minority with my rating, as others have placed this squarely in the 5 star category.  For me, however, I could offer only three stars for the novel approach.  Beyond that, there is definitely a lack of substance from the beginning that never does materialize.

Thanks to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for allowing me access to this ARC.  Expected publication is slated for June 7, 2022.

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Review: Everything Must Go

Everything Must Go by Camille Pagán
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I wish I had enjoyed this a bit more!  In theory, the plot works.  Laine is a professional organizer who, at the age of 38, experiences an epiphany of sorts—she wants a baby and her biological clock is ticking louder than a cheap Timex.  Unfortunately, her husband Josh has little interest in expanding the family beyond the two of them.  Moments after telling Josh she wants a divorce, Laine gets a phone call from her sister who impresses upon Laine how important it is for her to come home to New York to help make some long term decisions about their mother’s care, as she is showing increasing signs of dementia.  Home, for Laine, however, holds keys to the past that she isn’t sure she wants to revisit.  There’s her ex BFF Ben and the remnants of a people-pleasing past that she left behind 16 years prior—and both threaten to at once undo her and offer her salvation.

The characters here are supposed to be multi-faceted and on a quest toward self-awareness.  Instead, I found each to be incredibly self-centered, not to mention a little whiny.  The emotional angst that should and usually does accompany many of the life-changing moments in the book is just….absent.  Laine bounces from one relationship to the next with the ease of a child on a trampoline, ending her marriage, confronting her mother and re-engaging with a former friend who has the potential to make things better or a whole lot worse.  She just seems indifferent and emotionally detached.  Those moments when the author does attempt to imbue her with compassion and feeling fall flat, and the reader is left little with which to connect.

There were jumping off points here with the potential for author Camille Pagan to make sweeping statements about everything from single motherhood to racial bias.  Rather than exploring these. Pagan waltzes past them with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.  

All in all, it’s a mediocre quick read that is comprised of a series of strung together events with little emotional impact.

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Review: Black Tide

Black Tide by K.C. Jones
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Reading Black Tide by KC Jones felt like tripping through the imagination of Lewis Carroll as he directed Alice down the rabbit hole. Suddenly reality is skewed and the experience is as if seen through a lens of drug induced hallucinations.

Jones begins with an introduction to Beth—a young woman with a tough as nails exterior and battle scars that hover beneath the surface, coloring her every action and interaction. She is, by necessity, a wanderer, moving from one house sitting job to the next, untethered and uninhibited, with the haunting memories of her mother’s callous parenting chasing her from behind. One evening, while house sitting a beach home and a dog for a wealthy family she notices Mike, the enigmatic man next door, sitting by his fire pit. She finagles an invitation to join him, and their fates collide when that night an unprecedented and unexplained event causes a variety of vicious monsters to suddenly appear on earth—and a variety of earthlings to simply…disappear.

It is in the description of the hellacious alien creatures that author Jones shines, as the horror of each practically drips from the page and into the reader’s psyche. The suspension of disbelief needed to engage with the premise is seamless and occurs without hesitation—truly the hallmark of a writer who knows their audience. As cloud fish, shriekers and bowling ball entities shred the world as we know it to pieces, Jones maintains the banter that forms the basis of the budding relationship between Beth and Mike as they struggle to survive and save one another.

In the same way that the descriptive passages are the strength of the writing, the relationship building aspects of the story are the weakness. Whilst you don’t have to like characters to invest in the story, one does need to have an interest in their predicament and the eventual outcome. In this case, both Beth and Mike were so flawed as to be almost acerbic in their interactions. I had no horse in the race as to whether or not they survived, which tempered my reaction to a number of the presented scenarios. I was completely indifferent to the outcome.

Overall, well written and imaginative, full of vivid imagery that may leave you with nightmares for many days to come. Definitely worth a read for the monsters alone.

Thanks to NetGalley and MacMillan Tor/Forge for allowing me access to an ARC. Publication is scheduled for May 31, 2022.

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Review: Tender is the Flesh

Tender is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I read this based on some good reviews on Amazon and, once again, was hoodwinked.  The story here has good bones, and Bazterrica had an opportunity to make some bold statements.  Instead, however, the reader is treated to vividly descriptive death porn that is simply too over the top to be in any way enjoyable.  Before you label me a prude, consider that I really thought Sick Bastards was well done.  See?  I do have a high tolerance for aberrant behaviors shared to further the plot of an actual story.

The novel is almost expository in nature, detailing contemporary slaughterhouses and how they function in the not so distant future.   Facilities once used to process cattle, pigs and chickens for consumption have had to be renovated for a whole new kind of killing, as, in a long game to control overpopulation, the government has convinced the world that animals carry a deadly virus.  Once all dogs have been euthanized or beat to death, zoo animals have been starved, and birds have been demonized, the government endorses cannibalism to encourage “protein intake”.  The idea of humans for food is slowly introduced into society, and the slaughterhouses morph into killing fields for human beings whose offal, skins and organs are processed and ultimately enjoyed by the wealthy and elite.  Men, women and children (called head), of all walks of life and a variety of “flavors”, are grown to desired specs, then led to a staging area where they are stunned and their throats are slit.  From there, they are bled dry, flayed, shaved, and relieved of their organs and limbs. The entire sequence is shared in gory detail.  The plot that hovers beneath these disconcerting images focuses on a slaughterhouse employee who seeks to salve his grief after losing a child.  I found it to be shallow, ill-conceived and poorly executed—and I didn’t give a whit about one single character in this house of horrors. 

I will not be returning to any of this author’s work.  The nausea from this one is likely to linger long enough to last a lifetime.

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