Book Review: Into the Water by Paula Hawkins

33151805Title: INTO THE WATER
Author: Paula Hawkins
Release Date: 2017
Pages: 386
Publisher: Riverhead Books
My Rating: ★★★★☆ (4/5)
Review on Goodreads

Into the Water is the sort of book that would make an incredible BBC series, in the vein of Broadchurch. It’s set in a tiny and beautiful English town with a river running through it, which would provide us with ample gorgeous scenery. It’s a murder mystery, sort of – the main focus is this river/pond that women have drowned in throughout the years, stretching back to witchhunts in the 1700s. It also doesn’t focus on any one single character, but rather has something like ten different POVs.

I would say that is my one major criticism – there are way too many different POVs here. It works in something like epic fantasy, when you’re spread across different areas, but this is a tiny English town. We didn’t need to be in all those characters heads; several of the POVs (like Mark’s or Josh’s) added little to nothing to the plot. This would have been a much better, tighter book had it only focused on perhaps three characters (in my opinion the characters should have been Jules, Erin, and Lena, the latter two ended up being my favorites). The characters’ development would have been so much more satisfying, because I think the author truly has some great characters in Jules, Lena, and Erin. My other pet peeve regarding the POVs is that they alternated between third and first person. I’m not saying this can never work – N.K. Jemisin and Marie Lu have both done it well – but here it was simply jarring.

My other criticism – which goes hand in hand with the aforementioned – is that I think the author could have delved more into the mystery and symbolism of the drowning pool. I really loved the aesthetic of this novel; the few times the author delved into the meaning and metaphor of the pool and what it means to be in the water I felt like she was on the precipice of something truly profound, but she could never quite get there. I feel like there was so much more she could have explored particularly regarding water’s symbol as a purifier – but I suppose, in the end, this is a thriller, not a philosophical tome.

And thrilling it is! At the beginning of this book, it’s not even clear that there is a mystery to be solved: Jules receives a call that her older sister Nel is dead, but most people think it’s a suicide. It’s only after more and more secrets are dug up (mainly because of the determination of Erin, a newcomer to the small town) that the suicide turns into a murder investigation. The mystery is gripping and the reveals are all interconnected and layered atop one another, with one thread uniting them: the cruelty of men towards women.

Misogyny was explored pretty openly in this book, and while some people might think it was heavy-handed, I actually liked that it was tackled head-on. It felt very realistic to me and it was satisfying to see the book ending with a rather healthy relationship between two women who both need each other for support.

In general, I liked this much better than The Girl in the Train. While the two books share some similarities, I think Into the Water is more realistic, with the kind of reveal that makes perfect sense in a sad, quiet sort of way.

Book Review: Here and Gone by Haylen Beck

32336395Title: HERE AND GONE
Author: Haylen Beck
Release Date: 2017
Pages: 287
Publisher: Crown Publishing Group
My Rating: ★★★★☆ (4/5)
Review on Goodreads

This is not normally the type of book I would read, so I went in with little to no expectations, and I was very pleasantly surprised! This is a book about a motherhood, and corruption, and the abuses of men, told in multiple points of view.

The book begins with Audra Kinney on the run with her two young children. For days she has been driving across the country from New York to escape her abusive husband. In Arizona, Audra is stopped by the sheriff seemingly for a minor traffic stop. The sheriff then “finds” a bag of marijuana in Audra’s trunk, arrests her, and then has his deputy pick up her kids. When the sheriff takes Audra to the station and she asks him where her children have been taken, he looks at her flatly and asks, “What children?”

And so Audra’s nightmare begins. She is denounced by the press and cops who assume she killed her children. She finds an ally in Danny Lee, a Chinese American man whose own wife endured Audra’s situation years ago. Together Danny and Audra attempt to save her children. They make a fun team; Audra is tough and resilient, and Danny is a deadpan hard-ass entangled with the Chinese mafia.

Honestly, I can’t believe this book was written by a white man. There are so many women in this book, of varied complexities, some strong, some weak, some corrupt. The book portrays the bonds between women and how they can trust and support one another. Not that all the women here are saints – again this book portrays layered, nuanced characters. And then there’s Danny, who could have easily been a white man but wasn’t, and that meant that the narrative presented certain questions about race that added depth to the story.

The story is tense and gripping and wastes no words; it moves quickly, the entire story taking place within the span of two days, which lends it the urgency of a thriller. But it doesn’t just rely on cheap thrills: Beck’s writing is gorgeous, elaborate and vivid, bringing to live the scorching, desolate Arizona desert and a dying small town. I finished this book in a single day because I was so drawn in by the plot and the writing.

This is not something I would have ordinarily picked up on my own, so thank you to Blogging for Books for providing me with a copy in exchange for a review!

Book Review: We Are Okay by Nina LaCour

28243032Title: WE ARE OKAY
Author: Nina LaCour
Release Date: 2017
Pages: 234
Publisher: Dutton Books
My Rating: ★★★★★ (5/5)
Review on Goodreads

It’s Christmas Break and Marin Delaney is the only person left in her cold, New York dorm. From the very first page you can feel the threads of grief tugging her down, and they weave their way throughout the entirety of this short little book that I could not put down. I did not expect to be this affected by this book, but by the last page I was crying.

Marin is an orphan, raised by her grandfather, with no other family to speak of. When her grandfather dies, she flees her hometown in California for college in New York. As Marin narrates, however, the reader begins to see that it isn’t just her grandfather’s death she is trying to escape from, but the reality of his life and their lives together. There is more, much more, buried in the crevices of Marin’s heavy grief. The truth is revealed slowly, tugged out of Marin with difficulty because she can’t bring herself to face it.

The entire novel takes place over the three days Marin’s best friend Mabel comes to visit her at college. It is obvious that the girls were more than friends, however, and that Marin’s grief has driven a wedge between them. Their interactions are hesitant and fragile as they try to patch themselves back together again.

Though the narrative is interspersed with flashbacks, for me it is the present-day scenes that speak the loudest. LaCour does an incredible job bringing forth emotions using setting alone. Marin and Mabel are all alone on an empty college campus, snowed in, surrounded by freezing cold and snow storms and icy quiet. This barren landscape mirrors Marin’s own emotions. Not only does Marin’s grief leap off the page, so does her loneliness.

I come from a very large family. My father died when I was little, but I have a mom, a brother, grandparents, aunts, tons of cousins, and so much extended family that I can’t even remember all their names. We’re huge and sprawling and we talk to each other all the time and we’re always there for each other though we live on two different continents. I don’t often think about their existence as a balm for my loneliness, but it is; there is a comfort in knowing there are so many people I could reach out to, so many people I am effortlessly connected to.

Marin has no one. She had her grandfather, who tried his best, but it wasn’t enough, for he was too suffused in his own grief to be everything Marin needed. And then he dies, and Marin’s grief and loneliness suffocates her. I would say I can’t imagine how it feels, but I can, because LaCour writes of it so vividly and so powerfully that I felt my chest grow heavier just by reading along. The novel ends with a message of hope, but the majority of it succeeds in filling you up with the heavy, unbearable grief Marin feels.

This isn’t a typical novel that follows typical plot structure. It’s much more introspective. It’s about grief and suffering and loneliness and what they can do to a person. It’s about forgiveness. It’s about found families and forging new connections. Not too much happens in this novel, and I’m not gonna lie, it’s depressing as hell, but I loved it all the same. And as a writer, it’s inspired me to write, which to me always means a book is spectacular in some way or another.

Book Review: The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden

25489134Title: THE BEAR AND THE NIGHTINGALE
Author: Katherine Arden
Release Date: 2017
Pages: 322
Publisher: Del Rey Books
My Rating: ★★★★★ (5/5)
Review on Goodreads

On a cold winter night in a northern Russian village, a mother of four dies giving birth to her fifth child: a young girl born with the promise of magic in her veins, a predetermined fate nipping at her heels.

So begins the tale of Vasilia Petrovna, a wild, willful child who grows into a spirited, brave young woman. Arden tells her story slowly, gradually, from birth to adulthood, but the narrative is no less compelling for it. Arden wields words like a painter, crafting a lush atmosphere that makes you feel warm, as though you are reading a book by the fire. That is what I first noticed about this book; it immediately drew me in and made me feel cozy.

Despite the third person semi-omniscient narration, I was able to get a good sense of the characters. I usually despise this type of narration, especially when viewpoints flit between characters in a single chapter as they did here, but Arden does this masterfully. Nowhere did I feel that her writing did not cohere beautifully. The sweeping fairy tale feel evoked by the narration does not take away from the characters, each of whom comes to life in their own way.

Vasya is the strongest character of them all, a girl so strange and willful as to be branded a witch by her village. Born with the ability to see domovoi, her friendship with these strange Russian spirits is a direct contrast to her step-mother’s terror of them. Anna, whom Vasya’s father marries at the behest of his prince, is gifted with the sight as well, but unlike Vasya she fears the domovoi “demons” so much that she is constantly on the precipice of madness. She finds solace only in church, where domovoi cannot enter, and so when an egotistical young priest named Konstantin is sent to Vasya and Anna’s village, Anna latches onto him and his fear-mongering.

Konstantin the priest is a fascinating character; holy and devout but arrogant and vain. He lives for the love of the people and nurtures a desire to be worshiped by them. At the same time he is tormented by his desire for Vasya, whose willful spirit both tempts him and infuriates him. Throughout his years in her life he alternates between love and hatred of her, and he stokes the villagers’ suspicions of her, cementing her as an unholy witch in their minds.

But Vasya is protected by her family, among them her father Pyotr, an honest, hard-working, honorable man who wields an iron fist of justice. Though he loves his daughter he is frustrated by her strangeness, her unwillingness to fit in the world, the way she throws off the shackles of womanhood in medieval Russia. Alongside Vasya as an ally is her older brother Alyosha, whose love for and protectiveness of his sister shone through more than any of his other traits, making him a memorable character in his own right. Even Irina, Anna’s daughter and Vasya’s half-sister, who could have been merely an afterthought, grows in complexity as she breaks away from her mother’s hold and comes to ally with her sister in small but significant ways.

This tale is steeped in Russian folklore, the remote, pastoral setting lending a mythical feel to the story. Like most fairy tales Arden’s tale reads like magical realism. Christian reality integrates seamlessly with Russian folklore, all coming to a head in the climax of the novel, in which Vasya finally confronts the evil that has been haunting her village and maddening Konstantin the priest, making him believe he was listening to the voice of his God.

This is a delightful tale steeped in richness and atmosphere. The evocative moods shift from tense and terrifying to comedic to uplifting, conveying the various tenors the harsh northern setting itself evokes. This is something else I must mention: Arden writes of the seasons with such utter grace, illuminating the icy danger of winter as much as the heavy heat of summer. Her lyrical descriptions are bursting with vivid color, which boosts the novel immensely, as the setting is such a significant part of the narrative.

This has been one of my favorite reads of this year: comforting, thrilling, inspiring, and utterly beautiful.

Book Review: A Conjuring of Light by V.E. Schwab

29939230Title: A CONJURING OF LIGHT
Author: V.E. Schwab
Release Date: 2017
Pages: 624
Publisher: Tor
My Rating: ★★★★★ (5/5)
Review on Goodreads

The conclusion to Victoria Schwab’s trilogy hits the ground sprinting, picking up where last book’s cliffhanger left us. The first few chapters fly by at a breakneck pace as the gang (and they are a gang, now) tries to deal with Osaron. The pace slows down slightly towards the middle, but the gang is on a ship (I love ships!) so I was a happy camper. The book concluded wonderfully, happily even, tying up all loose ends while still promising new adventures.

One of my favorite things about this book was all the extra screen time (page time?) Holland got. Since book one I’ve been so intrigued by him (I was telling a friend he reminded me of a young Snape) and getting to see more of his backstory was rather enlightening. I loved the way he interacted with both Kell and Lila, thawing a frosty relationship with the former and building a rickety alliance with the latter.

Lila, of course, is wonderful and powerful and badass as always. She’s an absolute tour de force, I have to say. Her scenes and interactions with Kell were incredible and left me wanting more and more and more.

I have only one complaint about this book. Ever since the first book, Kell’s past has been teased. And yet, even by the end of the trilogy, we are not given any new information about who he is or where he came from. Kell consciously makes the decision not to learn anything about his past when he is given the opportunity halfway through the book, a decision which always frustrates me, since if I were given the choice I would always wish to know the truth no matter what it may be. I guess the point Schwab means to have come across is that it doesn’t matter, but if that were the case I wish it hadn’t been teased so often, as though it were building up to a reveal!

Same issue with Lila – what exactly happened to her eye? Was it an accident or did it turn black? Why is she an Antari in a world without magic? How did she come to be so? I just wanted more, but honestly, that’s more about me as a reader. I like backstory and filling in holes, but I do think Schwab intentionally doesn’t tell us this information because she wants to stress that it is what these characters do nowthat matters, which I guess I can live with.

Other than that…I have no complaints. I loved this book and I loved this series. And seriously, just, thank you to Victoria Schwab for giving us the gift of Delilah Bard. Thank you.