Book Review: Untamed by Glennon Doyle

By Jamie Maletta

Content warning: references to alcoholism, addiction, and negative body image/eating disorders. 

Glennon Doyle is an American author, speaker, and activist, doing incredible work with her all-women run non-profit Together Rising, which has raised more than $16 million for women, children, and families in crisis. 

Her memoir Untamed is a self-help meets motivational read that will have you looking inside yourself and questioning your pre-conceived thoughts, beliefs, and actions. 

Doyle takes us on a journey through her early life of addiction, bulimia and alcoholism, pregnancy, marriage, and actively attempting to brush her true self—“her Knowing”—under the rug while self-medicating with alcohol and desperately trying to lead a picture-perfect life. The moment she lays eyes on her (now) wife, everything begins to untangle. A switch goes off, and she realizes she can no longer live a life hiding behind a bottle, a facade, and begins digging deep into who she was always meant to be. Glennon is always growing, always evolving, and brings such a human element to her amazing life. 

This book will leave you reflecting on your own life—wanting to do better, be better, and to respect your own “Knowing.” I love a good self-help book, and I’m so excited for what Doyle has in store for us next! I completely recommend this book to anyone and everyone who needs or wants a little push, a little nudge, towards a better life, a better future. This book will not disappoint. Five stars.

Book Review: What Strange Paradise by Omar El Akkad

By Kim McCullough

Content warning: images of dead migrants (including children)

It’s clear from the opening pages of Omar El Akkad’s What Strange Paradise that nine-year-old Amir is the only survivor of a shipwrecked boat of migrants. In the pivotal moment where Amir opens his eyes on the beach of a posh resort, his story begins with the “before” of Amir’s arrival and the “after” laid out in alternating chapters. The living boy is spotted by officers, and he flees into the forest. The search, led with a dogged single-mindedness by Colonel Kethros, has begun. 

Amir is discovered, filthy and exhausted, by Vänna, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed teenager who is trying hard to retreat from the disappointments in her own family life. Vänna decides to help Amir, finding him shelter, food, and clothing. She takes him to the refugee camp run by a kind woman who directs them on another journey. All the while, their nemesis Colonel Kethros is catching up. 

As El Akkad flips between timelines, he pins the reader between an aching sadness over the desperate voyage Amir left behind and a frantic hope that he and Vänna will prevail in their flight and escape the reach of the colonel and his soldiers. 

El Akkad’s antagonists are nearly archetypal in their cruelty and dismissiveness, but he adds imaginative and delicate elements that encompass the frailty of the broken, weak, and angry characters. In a few deft scenes, El Akkad humanizes even Colonel Kelcher.

The “before” sections take place mostly on the boat with refugees from many different nations, and inevitable clashes arise. El Akkad chooses his conflicts carefully and writes them with such compassion that it’s hard to villainize any of the migrants. They are everyday people in an untenable situation. In the “after” sections, Amir and Vänna’s fleeting encounters with the tourists at the resort hold a mirror to the migrants. Rich vacationers living a sun-soaked life of ease where waves of dead bodies landing on the beach are an inconvenient interruption to their languid eating, swimming, and sunbathing. El-Akkad’s sharp-eyed details highlight western privilege and self-centredness in a way that is both recognizable and uncomfortable. 

A melancholic thread pulled through the book is one of mothers and motherhood. Amir wears a picture of his mother in a locket around his neck, and he longs for her. On the boat, a pregnant woman who champions Amir has pinned her hopes on a bright future for her own unborn child. Vänna mothers Amir from the moment they meet, while her own mother, who appears early in the book, exemplifies all a mother shouldn’t be. Other maternal figures come and go, a beat that pulses under this story of a boy far from home.

In a time when it often seems the world lacks compassion, What Strange Paradise by Omar El Akkad refines a global discussion into an urgent, contemporary tale of a young, reluctant refugee. The book’s strong characters, clear timeline, propulsive scenes lead to a stunning conclusion that won’t, and shouldn’t be, soon forgotten. 

Thank you, Penguin Random House, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: The Almost Wife by Gail Anderson-Dargatz

By Robyn Rossit

Content warnings: Suicide, child abduction, violence, psychological abuse 

The Almost Wife by Gail Anderson-Dargatz is a fast-paced thriller set in Ontario. The main character, Kira, is engaged to Aaron, a wealthy businessman, who is a great father to their baby Evie as well as to his 13-year-old daughter Olive from a previous marriage. Kira didn't have a stable childhood, so having a secure and loving home of her own is important to her. However, Aaron's ex-wife Madison has other plans, which include stalking Kira and attempting to abduct Olive, whom she had recently lost custody of. While Aaron is away on a business trip, Kira takes the girls to Manitoulin Island, her childhood summer home. Things take a turn when she realizes Madison followed them. Dark secrets and a past she would rather forget threaten the picture-perfect life Kira has been so desperately trying to create.

The Almost Wife was definitely one of those thrillers that the reader just cannot put down—I finished it in a single afternoon as I needed to know what happened next. It was fast-paced and full of intriguing twists and turns as the story progressed. Each character in the story was flawed in their own way, but I still found myself rooting for Kira and I wish the characters had a little bit more development to make them more likeable.

One of the themes that I found the most gripping was psychological trauma. Kira had a rocky relationship with her estranged father and an unhealthy relationship with her manipulative mother. The psychological trauma she experienced is very much a present theme in her life, both in the way she reacts to the stressful situations she is put in and in her attempts to break the cycle and create a positive life for her new family.

One of my favourite things about The Almost Wife is its Canadian setting. I get pretty excited when I am reading a story set close to home. While I have not visited Manitoulin Island (yet), the picture Gail Anderson-Dargatz paints of it made me feel as if I was there. I did read this book by a lake, so I enjoyed shutting my eyes and feeling like I was there. While the story does start in Toronto, I loved the small community feel present when Kira and the girls arrive on the island. Reading the author's bio and finding out she once owned a summer home on Manitoulin Island makes the setting feel even more special.

If you're looking for a fast-paced thriller that will keep you guessing, The Almost Wife certainly will keep you on your toes.

Thank you, HarperCollins Canada, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Finder: Chase the Lady by Carla Speed McNeil

By Dahl Botterill

Finder: Chase the Lady is the newest book in Carla Speed McNeil's Finder series of graphic novels. The story follows Rachel Grosvenor as she tries to turn her social victories from Voice into something meaningful—or at the very least useful. As a newly titled member of the Llaverac clan, she finds herself overwhelmed by responsibilities and expectations and is desperately trying to find a balance between what she needs and what everybody around her wants. Rachel is trapped between the social demands of her clan, the material sponsorships she's dependent upon, and the spiritual needs of those around her. Like the previous volume Third World, this book is in colour, which, while not strictly necessary, can provide some additional visual cues in a story set largely in a social bubble filled with nearly identical individuals.

Finder is often a particularly dense work of art. The world it paints is not simply expansive but also very full. From the very first Finder book, there is an expectation of an engaged readership that's seeking something special and ready to do their part. Every page thick with characters, plot, and promise, the immersive quality of these books stems in part from the painstaking care Carla Speed McNeil puts into her world. The detail doesn't cease at the borders of each particular tale but extends far beyond the setting in question.  

There is also a distinct lack of extraneous explanation, as the reader experiences the world of Finder as though they've been dropped into it, piecing the larger picture together as the story progresses. This is one of the things I love about Finder. McNeil trusts her readers to keep up as best they can and fully utilizes the comic format to provide just enough context to place the action in the larger setting. She also provides extensive notes that can be alternately helpful and fascinating, but they are best saved for future reads, as the rush and flow of the format drive the experience alongside the plot.

This technique has the potential to alienate a new reader to some degree, and as the eleventh volume of an ongoing series, Chase the Lady is at a bit of a disadvantage in this respect. Finder has followed a variety of interrelated characters and told many distinct stories over the years.  While Chase the Lady primarily follows just one of those and certainly stands as a story that can be enjoyed independently, there is a lot more here for somebody already versed in the setting. Somebody who's already familiar with Rachel Grosvenor and those around her, or even the world she inhabits with its clans and titles and expectations, will certainly find the book an easier fit. 

Finder is easily one of my favourite series. Chase the Lady is a fantastic entry, beautiful to behold, filled with incredible ideas and well-considered explorations. It may not be the easiest entry point for new readers, but it is a magnificent work of art and a pleasure to experience. 

Book Review: The Maidens by Alex Michaelides

By Melissa Barbuzzi

Content warning: Self-harm, adult/minor relationship

The Maidens follows Mariana Andros, a brilliant but troubled group therapist who learns that her niece Zoe's closest friend Tara has been murdered on the campus of Cambridge University. Mariana becomes fixated on the murder and finds herself back at Cambridge (her alma mater), surrounded by questions. Will Mariana find the answers to those questions before it's too late?

This was the first Alex Michaelides book that I've read, and I thoroughly enjoyed it! I’ve been really into thrillers recently and was recommended The Maidens a couple of times, so I knew I needed to get my hands on it. It’s a twisty and creepy thriller with some Greek mythology mixed in throughout. 

I really appreciated Alex Michaelides' writing style throughout the book. It was very immersive and had many layers to it, making the book feel so much deeper than your average thriller—and it had short chapters, which I’m a sucker for! I loved how there was a bit of Greek mythology mixed in, and the fact that the book was based at Cambridge University made everything feel more elegant. It was a slow burn that was still suspenseful with a twist you won't expect! 

While I liked this book, my main gripe with it was the number of characters that felt like they were randomly plopped in solely to throw you off track. Multiple characters that were introduced seemed to have a main role, but then just disappeared from the plot a few pages later. I suspected most characters at least once (which is definitely what the author’s goal was), but I felt like there was just way too much going on. 

The main character, Mariana, seemed all over the place to me. She definitely had a lot going on in her personal life but being a psychiatrist specializing in group therapy, you would think she would go to therapy herself. The trauma she had been through was apparent, and it seemed like she had not begun working through that trauma yet.

When it eventually got to the main twist, I actually did not expect it, but I think the reason was because it was just so out of left field. I felt like the main twist just didn’t add up with the rest of the book I had just read and all of the characters I had just been introduced to.

Overall, I really enjoyed The Maidens and definitely recommend it to anyone looking for their next thriller. I have seen many people recommend Alex Michaelides’ other book, The Silent Patient, over this one, so I am really looking forward to adding it to my upcoming TBR!

Book Review: Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídée

By Megan Amato

Content warning: racism, both personal and institutional 

Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé’s debut YA dark academia thriller Ace of Spades was blessed with good marketing. I immediately pre-ordered a copy after the author tweeted it and comped it as Get Out meets Gossip Girl. A few weeks after that, Illumicrate released a debut box with an exclusive UK hardcover signed edition with extra wee treats, and I couldn’t say no. I had high expectations for this book, especially after Twitter mutuals raved about it, and by the end of the book, I was the personification of the exploding head emoji.  

There are only two Black students at Niveus Private Academy: Chiamaka, a chronic overachiever who fights twice as hard as everyone else to stay in the precarious position at the top of her school, and Devon, a talented musician with dreams of Julliard who prefers to stay in the shadows. When an anonymous source called the “The Aces” begins to expose their deepest secrets, Chiamaka and Devon band together to uncover the culprit. As they untangle the web of secrets and lies surrounding the plot against them, their carefully built lives begin to crumble, and friendships (or alliances in Chiamaka’s case) dissolve. Soon they both realize that the only person they can trust is each other, because it’s not just the act of one or a few but an insidious racist conspiracy that has sought to harm Black students attending Niveus for decades. 

I am still in awe that this is the author’s debut. The layering in the plot and the motivations of the characters is done so flawlessly that you would expect Àbíké-Íyímídé to be a veteran in the genre. Both Chiamaka’s and Devon’s characters are well-developed and completely different from one another—an achievement hard done when both are told in the first person present. I didn’t have to look at the chapter head to see whose chapter it was; I could tell by the character’s confidence and place in the world around them. The pacing of the unfolding events and subsequent actions were spot on for the genre, and I found myself quickly engrossed in the story—and what a story it was!

One of the things I like most about this book is that no topic is off-limits—nothing is shied away from. Àbíké-Íyímídé doesn’t coddle her teenage readers (or her adult readers for that matter), she trusts them to understand the nuances of race and racism, sexuality and homophobia, gender and misogynoir, class and privilege, and how they all intersect. These themes are challenged in almost every part of the plot, from the differences in the main characters’ backstories and arcs, to how their individual proximity—or lack thereof, especially in Devon’s case—to whiteness change the ease in which they move in their worlds, to the far-reaching and malicious scheme that seeks to destroy them. The author moves every piece of the plot like pieces on a chessboard until, by the end, with chills up your spine and the weight of anxiety in your stomach: checkmate—but I will leave it to you to find out who plays the final piece. 

I highly recommend you pick up a copy of Ace of Spades from your local bookshop and join in the collective gasp that emerges from every mouth at the last few paragraphs in the book.

Book Review: Fight Night by Miriam Toews

By Larissa Page

Fans of Miriam Toews, like myself, will be excited to see another work of hers released this year. Toews is a Canadian favourite, giving us several previous literary gems such as A Complicated Kindness (winner of the Governor General’s Award and CBC Canada Reads), Irma Voth, A Boy of Good Breeding, and many others. Her writing style is incredibly unique, and she always hits those hard topics with quirk, charm, love, and joy. For this reason, I was so excited when given the opportunity to read and review Fight Night. 

Fight Night is told to us by Swiv, a 9-year-old fighter who has been suspended from school and is being cared for by her lively grandma while her pregnant mother goes to work each day. Swiv is explaining or re-telling her experience of this whole time to us as it happens—all the day-to-day living they do, and the adventures they have. Plus, she goes deeper and communicates her fears for her mother and “Gord” (the baby).

One thing I think Toews is a master at is giving us incredibly charming, unique, quirky characters and strong, resilient women. Swiv is feisty, her mom is resilient, and her Grandma is something else entirely. All of them are so incredibly full of life while also fighting obvious demons. These women were charming and hilarious, and they were real. The way they spoke to each other reminded me of people I actually knew. 

The undercurrent of this novel is the topic of mental health and grief. This is not evident the entire time because just as in life, mental health and grief are things people live with. They go on with their everyday lives, living in amongst the grief or the anxiety or the worry. This is what Swiv and her family do as well. She is worried about her mother’s mental health, her mom and her Grandma are grieving the deaths of people they were close to, and they do this while continuing to carry on, “fighting” for their own lives.

The theme of fighting in this novel was incredibly evident and multilayered as well. Swiv was suspended for physically fighting at school. There are conversations about people in their lives “losing the fight” against mental illness, becoming too tired to continue “fighting” against their own brains. There is continuous encouragement and experience by Swiv’s Grandma and Mom to fight for one’s self—to fight for your spark and your joy and against your brain when it comes to one’s own mental illness. They were all, and we are all, everyday fighting for our lives.

Toews has a very unique writing style, one that might not be loved by everyone, and this novel in particular is very unique in its voice and its style. If this is the first Toews novel you pick up, that may end up being a surprise for you, but I think past Toews fans will recognize her style and be happy to dive back in. I can’t say enough good things about how completely loveable Swiv’s narration of this is. It is funny, quirky, and childlike, in that she repeats things she would hear around her without always understanding them. Especially with her firecracker of a grandmother, the verbiage she passes along to us, the readers, is perfection.

I did start to wonder partway through Fight Night how it would all come together, whether there would be a defined direction or not. This is the only part of the book in which I wavered in my enthusiasm, as while I was loving listening to Swiv, I wondered whether there would be a point. Of course, already being familiar with Toews’s writing I expected there would be if I stuck it out. It did, right at the end, wrap up in a fantastic (albeit heartbreaking) little bow.  

I am not sure if I would recommend Fight Night as the first Miriam Toews novel you pick up, as I felt being familiar with her style was a benefit to me while reading it, but if you do, please go in knowing it will be a unique reading experience and worth it at the end. For fans of Toews’s previous work, I think you’ll enjoy this one.

Thank you to Penguin Random House for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: The Divines by Ellie Eaton

By Kaylie Seed

Content warning: drug use

Ellie Eaton’s debut novel The Divines is a rich coming-of-age story that follows Josephine (Joe while in school and Sephine in her adult life) as she navigates being a teenager at boarding school, and the impact that it has on her later in life. St. John the Divine is an all-girls boarding school, and readers will get just what that promises from this read. Mean girls and cliques rule the school; so does hazing and the girls’ desire to prove themselves to one another. 

Eaton goes back and forth between Sephine in the present and Joe in the past, while entwining them together to show the reader just who Josephine really is. What is so fascinating about Josephine is how drastically she changes—it is clear to the reader that she is trying to distance herself from who she once was and who she is now by creating a clear divide in her past and present. Josephine will entertain the reader all throughout the story and they will want to know just who she truly is.

Eaton manages to give off an air of nonchalance and aloofness throughout the book which is quite impressive for a debut author. As a reader you will feel the teenage angst in the pages of The Divines, which may transport you back to your own teenage years. Eaton has taken traditional coming-of-age topics such as drug experimentation, sexuality, cliques, toxic friendships, and the need to belong, and goes even deeper into the darker parts of what it means to be a teenage girl. The Divines may not be a read for everyone, but those who do enjoy it will appreciate the dark, compelling narrative that is present throughout this fascinating read.

Thank you to HarperCollins Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Blood Like Magic by Liselle Sambury

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warning: blood and gore, murder, racism, transphobia, police brutality

Blood Like Magic is a YA low fantasy novel set in a near-future Toronto, which follows Voya, a chronically indecisive Black witch, as she comes into her magic and struggles to define herself within a large and respected witch family. This book deals with themes of growing up, defining yourself, and finding the balance between doing what’s best for you and what’s best for your family while also discussing the experience of Black communities in Toronto and Canada. 

When a witch hits puberty they are given a Task by one of their ancestors and the completion of this Task will determine the strength of their magic, as well as the strength of the special power, or gift, they are given by their ancestors. For Voya’s family, their gifts are used to keep the family together in their ancestral home, and the pressure to receive a good and profitable gift weighs on Voya, whose reputation for being indecisive already has her worried about completing her Task. Then Voya is given the hardest Task in witch memory: to kill the love of her life, or her entire bloodline will lose their magic. If this isn’t hard enough, Voya has never been in love, so now she must find someone and fall in love with them within a month… all so she can kill them. 

Over the course of this book, Voya struggles with her indecisiveness and has to face the ways in which her sense of self has been defined by her family. Her relationships with each of her relatives shape the choices she makes—and the growing bond she feels with Luc, the troublesome, prickly boy she needs to seduce and kill—forces her to grapple with what she wants and what she’s willing to give up. Throw in a family mystery involving a lost relative and the world’s leading geneticist—and Luc’s surrogate father—and you have an immersive and captivating story focusing on the people we become and what forces shape us. 

This book includes a diverse cast of characters and engages readers with topics such as racism, transphobia, colonization, income inequality, microaggressions, and provides a commentary on life for minorities in Canada today. However, this book is also full of hope and spends a great deal of time exploring the role of ancestry and history and the ways the modern world can help maintain those connections to the past. Set in the near future, this book paints a picture of how new technologies can help make lives easier and work to foster connections—if we can let go of the prejudices of the past. 

The writing in this book is fun and fast-paced, and Voya, in spite of her indecision, is an excellent narrator through which the reader is introduced to this world of witches and technology. While the marketing of this book highlights the angst of Voya and Luc’s cursed romance, the real star of this book is the familial relationships highlighted between Voya, her cousins, and her older relatives, all of whom have unique and compelling personalities and struggles that hint at a broader universe of books to come following the Thomas witches. That being said, this book can also be read as a standalone and has a lot of power as a single story about family, love, and individuality. 

I would recommend Blood Like Magic to any fans of low fantasy, YA fiction, witches, books set in Toronto, or to any readers looking to read a futuristic coming-of-age story that deals with questions of race, identity, and family, sprinkled with magic. 

Book Review: The Secret Fawn by Kallie George and Elly MacKay

By Christine McFaul

The Secret Fawn is a quiet picture book by Canadian children’s book creators Kallie George and Elly MacKay.

The story begins with a missed moment when the protagonist, who is young (appears to be about four) and therefore slower to dress than the rest of her family, isn’t with them when they spot a deer. The disappointment of which is sure to be understood and felt in the hearts of all young readers. 

“This morning, Mama saw a deer. Dad and Sara saw it too.” 

This moment is closely followed by a poignant montage of other experiences the protagonist has missed because she was either too young or too small to fully participate. So, she heads out with a sugar cube, determined to find the deer on her own. The story then leads the reader on a soft and simple forest adventure. In the end, it isn’t the deer the protagonist finds, but something even more special.

“A fawn. A baby deer. Golden and soft like the sunlight.” 

There is a moment of recognition that the fawn is “little like me” before both young ones head back to their mamas. The writing is gentle, spare, and beautifully brought to life by MacKay’s illustrations.

For anyone unfamiliar with MacKay’s work, it is incredible, and I urge you to check it out Butterfly Park and Red Sky at Night, which are two of my personal favourites. Created using paper, ink, light and camera, the result is reminiscent of vintage puppet theatres and a standout in the current picture book market. In The Secret Fawn, MacKay pairs her signature illustration techniques with a dreamy dawn palette; buttery yellows, golds, pastel pinks, and forest greens. The resulting images are light-filled and ethereal. For me, they are the star of this book. 

The Secret Fawn is a lovely bedtime read, perfect for easing little ones to sleep. I think it is particularly suited to readers on the youngest end of the picture book age range. 

Thank you, Penguin Random House, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: The Trials of Salahan by I.C. Nicastro

By Carmen Lebar

Content warning: racism, sexism, violence, abuse

The Trials of Salahan is the debut YA fantasy novel by I. C. Nicastro. The story centres around the emergence of a mysterious smoke that threatens the Sahilian Plains. Lliam Inglorion, an elf, is instructed to set out from his home of Haven to find out what this smoke is and gain the skills to prevent this threat. He first travels to the Noble Kingdom with his friend Arianna, where he must learn swordsmanship. Unbeknownst to them, a mysterious epidemic arises in their homeland, bringing more worry to the world of Salahan. As someone who doesn’t read YA that often, this novel caught me off guard and swept me away. It’s a wonderfully entertaining fantasy novel that was hard to put down. I thoroughly enjoyed this book, especially Nicastro’s world and character building.

The success of a fantasy novel is dependent on how good the worldbuilding is, and The Trials of Salahan doesn’t disappoint. The worldbuilding in this novel is phenomenal. Throughout its pages, I was transported into the world of Salahan. Nicastro describes locations, characters, items, and much more with such expertise that it almost feels tangible. I felt like I was walking within the Noble Kingdom and could see its citizens and buildings. The world of Salahan is impressive, but the characters are what really shine in this book.

Every character in The Trials of Salahan is well thought out with their own motivations and personality. Nicastro develops multi-dimensional characters that fit well within the world. You can see the struggles Arianna has as Lliam’s companion on his journey. She tries to balance staying true to herself while also helping Lliam in his quest. Lliam, on the other hand, is dubbed the “chosen one,” but he still experiences moments of doubt, insecurity, and fear. I enjoyed seeing the characters endure their personal struggles while also living in a world on the brink of darkness. 

My only critique of this novel is that the first chapter was a bit confusing. The opening immediately starts with Lliam and Arianna setting out on their quest—literally as they are heading out of Haven. There are many allusions to what is going on, but nothing is concretely said until the following, or later, chapters. I felt like the first chapter needed to be structured differently to add a bit more context and to lessen the confusion. However, no question is left unanswered, so if the first chapter seems a bit confusing, do not let it deter you from reading this excellent novel. 

The Trials of Salahan is a wonderful YA fantasy novel that perfectly blends communal and personal struggles within the world of Salahan. It was refreshing to see a YA novel not focus on romantic love but rather friendship, community, and personal growth. It’s full of adventure, magic, and mystery with many great plot twists. The Trials of Salahan is a novel that will delight the avid YA reader and newcomer alike. I would especially recommend this book to those who love adult fantasy, like Game of Thrones but want a YA spin to it. I can’t wait to read more from Nicastro in the future.

Thank you to A. A. Smith Publishing House and I. C. Nicastro for my advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review. 

Book Review: Set-Point by Fawn Parker

By Meredith Grace Thompson

Content warning: eating disorder and body dysmorphia 

Fawn Parker’s 2019 novel Set-Point depicts the world of Lucy Frank, a writer and recent MFA graduate living and working in Montréal, scouring the precarious world of Anglophone work that the city allows. Lucy’s story begins in a warehouse office where she is working as a janitor for a start-up that, for unknown reasons, are developing a shuttlecock launching robot they are incredibly serious about. Lucy works during the day, unsure exactly what she is doing or why she is doing it, smokes cigarettes and drinks endless cups of coffee, attends book launches at night, and works on funding applications for her MFA project—a miniseries of Seinfeld episodes inhabited by the characters from Karl Ove Knausgård’s epic autofiction series My Struggle. 

The post-modernist, ironical, yet painfully self-aware and hyper-realistic structure of the novel makes immediate sense as soon as these two facets of the character come to light. Each cigarette and cup of black coffee feels an homage to Knausgård himself. Each ridiculous situation amplified to extremes through human error and selfishness, from a store robbery gone wrong to a lost bike being painted over outside the previously held apartment of Leonard Cohen, feels Seinfeldian in its proportions, with characters simply walking away from any situation that gets too heightened with little thought for consequences. And yet, unlike Seinfeld itself, Lucy suffers very real consequences. Parker’s skill in weaving together the opposing forms of autofiction depicted through Knausgård and Seinfeld is delightful to witness; one drenched in satire and the other submerged entirely in the mundane seeming randomness of daily life. Two such differing source materials about the same thing: nothing, creating a hybrid of nothingness.

The nothingness of Lucy’s life expands to fill and consume everything; a life being made up of a whole bunch of nothing as if enough nothing quantifies itself into something. Lucy is an incredibly self-aware protagonist with an almost shocking unawareness of her authentic self. She is aware of herself as a performance and yet seems to have no interest in moving beyond it: “I could perform a certain type of femininity so long as there were no other women by my side, doing it better.”  Lucy’s desire is not to be honest with herself but rather to be liked. “[My shampoo] was lavender-scented, which I hated but knew other people liked, so I tried to imagine it smelling good to me.”  

The narrative voice stays tied to Lucy’s internal monologue, never accessing anyone else’s interior life. Dealing with the pervasive nature of the male gaze, female competition within that gaze, alienation from unskilled labour, digital sex-work, body dysmorphia, an eating disorder that consumes the entirety of her food and beverage consumption as well as most thoughts, Lucy feels trapped by the self she is when she is alone.  She longs to “lock [herself] inside [her] social persona,” which she understands to be more desirable and therefore more worthy of her energy.  

Trips to Seinfeld themed pop-up restaurants in downtown Montréal, and the relaxation of the white noise of a Knausgård Vice interview are layered throughout, juxtaposing the maleness of both these autofiction structures Parker is playing with against the societal limits of Lucy’s femaleness as Lucy does not allow herself to understand herself as a serious person, not even in relations to her mother’s cancer diagnosis.  

“I envied the self-seriousness of men like Karl Ove. They chain-smoked cigarettes indoors, mused about art, politics, love. Everything they did was being done for the first time, by the first man. I, on the other hand, viewed myself through the critical lens of the at-home audience.”

Parker presents a life in stark lighting, not covering the edges to make it neater, not creating causal chains that lead to plot devices but rather letting things appear as random and unintentional and sometimes confusing as they are in real life. Parker’s talent as a writer is clear. There are a few moments where the plot flicks almost too quickly for comprehension, but it is sustained through Parker’s consistent style and her desire to take on the larger existential projects of what makes and remakes a self. Lucy Frank feels like a fully formed human being, existing outside the pages of the book. Each chapter feels fresh, each revelation of character feels organic and true to the multi-faceted ways in which human beings don’t always make sense; the way we hold conflicting views and violate the law of non-contradiction nearly every day of our lives. We believe one thing, and yet, we behave in another way entirely.  

Lucy Frank feels somehow akin to me and yet could not be farther away. She speaks things I would barely allow myself to think, and yet, she lives an honestly heartbreaking reflection of the toxicity of patriarchal value systems and their degradation of the female psyche. Lucy Frank’s story does not end here—we simply stop reading. Parker leaves us with the sense that this character will continue in the world that we inhabit, possibly forever, making impulsive life decisions and never entirely learning from her mistakes, being unlikeable and yet strangely lovable. 

Book Review: Other People's Children by R.J. Hoffmann

By Erica Wiggins

Content warning: miscarriage, infertility, abuse

I received this book in a book box and I will be honest, it’s not something that I would have picked up on my own. I am not a parent and have never wanted to be a parent. This is often a topic of conversation, and it can be a controversial decision for some. I have never thought about the other side of this—the desperation that wanting a child and not being able to have one can cause. When I received this book, I thought, why not take a chance? And I am so glad that I did. Warning to those reading this review: while I enjoyed this book immensely, it could be triggering for some (see above).

Other People’s Children is the debut novel from R.J. Hoffmann. It is a heartbreaking exploration of the paths that women take towards motherhood. This story lured me in with the first chapter, introducing us to Gail and Jon. This couple desperately wants a child. They have miscarried multiple times and have decided that adoption is the next option. We meet them at the first birthday party for a friend’s child. I could feel Gail’s frustration and hurt in a visceral way as she watches healthy children and their parents move around the party.

The story goes on from there to follow them on their adoption journey. Each chapter switches between the perspectives of Gail, Jon, Carli (the birth mom), Marla (Carli’s mom) and Paige (the adoption agent), and the further you get into the story, the more it tugs on your heart strings. We meet Carli who has had a rough childhood with little to no support from her mom. She experiences physical and verbal abuse. She dreams of becoming a nurse and is not ready to be a mother. Marla, her mom, has different plans for her daughter’s unborn child. Keeping this child becomes an obsession, as she was an awful parent to her own children. She believes she can do it right this time, with her grandchild. Paige is the sweet adoption agent who just wants to make everyone happy. It becomes difficult to take anyone’s side, as the author delves into each perspective with surprising detail and thoughtful consideration to the role that each person plays in the adoption process.  

The author made me think about how far I would go to have a child and then made me realize that as an average, middle class white woman, I have that choice. It gave me a glimpse into how motherhood and pregnancy is viewed in different socioeconomic classes. I felt happiness, grief, sadness, frustration and despair. We peek into the life of an adoption agent and the work that they do—and how hard that job really is. I read this book over two days; it is one you will not want to put down.

Thoughtfully and tactfully written, this story will stay with you long after its finish. It will leave you questioning yourself about pregnancy, motherhood, adoption and more. I would highly recommend this book to anyone looking to dive into the world of motherhood—however that happens—and open to see how their perspective shifts. 

Book Review: Skin of the Sea by Natasha Bowen

By Megan Amato

Content warning: depictions of kidnapping for the purposes of slavery 

The world that debut author Natasha Bowen has devised in Skin of the Sea is breathtaking, full of history that cannot be ignored, and richly detailed with West African folklore and culture. It’s beautifully written and flawlessly plotted; it would be easy to lose yourself in the worldbuilding and characters if not for the devastating roles that the African slave trade and middle passage have in the novel. 

Simidele (Simi) is Mami Wati, one of seven mermaids the sea goddess Yemoja remade to bless the journey of those stolen and murdered at sea. Simi is already grappling with letting her past life go and embracing Yemoja’s cause when she threatens the fate of the Mami Wati by pulling a live boy from the sea. With the help from Kola, the boy she saved, Simi sets out to find a set of rings that will help her undo the damage she has done. However, she isn’t the only one looking for the rings, and if the resentful messenger god gets his hands on them first, the world and everyone she loves will perish—including the boy she’s forbidden to love.

Two-dimensional main characters? Bowen has never met them. Simi demonstrates her courage and strength throughout the novel by defending her decision to save Kola despite the consequences, yet she does everything in her power to ensure those consequences are righted. Her character arc is also immensely satisfying. In the beginning, she is unsure and unsettled in her new place in the world, desperate to remember and hold onto her past human life.  As the novel progresses, she doesn’t lose that longing—especially as her feelings for Kola grow—but she grows more confident in herself through overcoming adversity, and through shared camaraderie. 

Kola is an admirable love interest, unafraid to show a softer side as he cares for those around him. The connection and chemistry between Kola and Simi are beautifully written, and despite their instant attraction, their budding—and forbidden—feelings for each other are demonstrated slowly, subtly, and appropriately for two young adults thrown into a life-or-death situation. The side characters are just as fleshed out and interesting, and I’m especially fond of Yinka, whose strength is constantly shown through not only her combat skills but the affection she shows to old and new friends. 

There are many elements in this novel, but Bowen seamlessly weaves them together, creating a new mosaic out of an existing folklore and history. There is a fairytale dreaminess that I love in retellings, and the descriptions of Simi’s environments are described so that I can almost feel the salt on my own skin. The plot is well-paced, moving with an urgency and tension befitting to the issues involved in the book and the characters at play. Skin of the Sea has quickly—I read this in one very long sitting—become one of my favourite books of the year, and I would highly recommend it to anyone. You can pick up a copy of it on Nov. 9. 

Thank you, Penguin Random House, for the complimentary copy of Skin of the Sea in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: A Separate Peace by John Knowles

By Melissa Khan

A friend who knows how much I enjoy dark academia recommended me this book, and I was sold instantly. The story begins with Gene, a man in his thirties reflecting on his time at a New Hampshire all-boys boarding school in the midst of World War II, seeking forgiveness for the role he played in the tragic event that occurred the summer before his senior year. 

That summer Gene and his best friend Phineas become closer than ever. Finny, the undisputed leader of their duo, holds a strong influence over Gene. He’s charming, athletic, and universally loved, all things Gene is not, and Gene can seldom resist him. In a clouded moment of jealousy and frustration, Gene makes a decision that betrays his friendship with Phineas and burdens him with a secret guilt that he is forced to carry. 

I had such a good time reading this book and believe it’s an American classic for a reason. The darkness is so subtle that you almost can’t tell it’s there. Gene and Phineas’ friendship survives the events by the river, but it’s clear that the power dynamics, though not shifted, have changed. Rather than Gene’s obedience coming from his love for Phineas, it derives from fear. His need to prove his loyalty leads Gene to go along with Phineas’s wildest requests. For instance, Gene trains diligently for the 1944 Olympics at Phineas’s insistence, as Finny believes the war is a hoax. 

This in particular stood out to me because it’s clear how blind Gene’s loyalty is to Phineas, and how strong his determination is to prove their friendship. Although he knows and believes in the reality of the war, Gene allows Phineas to continue the belief that it is all an elaborate lie. I think it’s clear as readers what the true motivation is behind Phineas’ belief, and we are proven correct later in the novel, but this revelation comes as a surprise to Gene. This loyalty also causes Gene to become defensive against his fellow classmates when the question of what truly happened that day by the river arises, and Phineas himself is confronted again by Gene’s unfathomable actions. 

Although quite simple, the language is beautiful and easy to follow. I loved most the languid flow of the prose, leaning into the haziness of summer and the chill of the subsequent winter. The effect of war on these young men is shown brilliantly through the backdrop of World War II. The struggle they face between finding their role in the fight, and choosing between enlisting and the draft, leads to poignant moments and reflections. 

I think at times the subtlety that we see in this novel can cause the point to be missed entirely. And I think for that it does this story a disservice. But this story was so beautiful, and the title A Separate Peace incredibly apt. I urge anyone with literary appreciation to read this novel.

Book Review: Astra by Cedar Bowers

By Larissa Page

Imagine your life story, the whole being of who you are, being told to someone through the eyes and lives of ten people who were close to you during different points in your life.

That is how we meet Astra. From her father who nearly flees before her birth, to a childhood playmate, to the adults who come in and out of her life as she moves from the rundown commune where she was raised in the wilderness of British Columbia. Different parts of Astra’s life are told to us tangentially, with the subject of each chapter being the focus, while their lives intersect with Astra’s in various ways. All in, this gives us a complete cast of characters instead of just the singular Astra.

Simply put, this novel is incredible. It is incredible for a few reasons.

First of all, the concept is unlike anything I’ve read before. To be told from ten different voices and have none of them be the voice of Astra herself (until the epilogue) but yet to have the novel itself be about Astra was a feat of excellent writing to say the least. Each of the ten characters has their own personality, quirks, background, and distinct being, and each of those ten is clearly displayed in their brief section of this novel. I felt like I understood each of them, their struggles and their joys that were shown to me through their interactions and lives lived with Astra. Each of the characters grows through their interactions with Astra, some improving themselves, some revealing their true desires, and some discovering hidden parts of themselves.

Second, I knew Astra. Astra is so well developed as a character by the descriptions and views of other people, and by the way she interacts with them. The reader gets a sense of her without ever hearing from Astra herself. Her character growth as she ages is also incredibly apparent, with the gaps between what we see sometimes spanning many years. At most we only get to see glimpses of Astra over the course of several decades, yet we are given a heroine of her own life, well developed and full of growth. 

Another reason this book was such a great read was because it was thought-provoking. I was constantly considering how such a concept would be applied to my own life. Who would be the ten voices to tell my stories? How would I be represented in each of their stories? How are other people’s lives affected by my being in them? Am I helping to improve the lives of those with whom I am related? These were not questions I expected to be asking myself and yet I was so incredibly intrigued by them. With this sort of reflection, I can see growth within myself, which means this novel has positively affected my life as a whole, which only the best literature does. 

I couldn’t wait to get back to this novel every time I put it down. The character development of each individual character, plus Astra herself, was so well done, and the concept ultimately had me reevaluating my own interactions with the people in my life. I hope to see Astra and Cedar Bowers in the upcoming season of Canadian and women’s book awards because I absolutely believe they deserve it. 

*Thank you to McClelland & Stewart for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Adventure by Chicken Bus by Janet LoSole

By Tyra Forde

Content warning: graphic descriptions of injuries

Adventure by Chicken Bus: An Unschooling Odyssey Through Central America by Canadian author Janet LoSole is a travel memoir that reads like vacation stories recounted by an old friend. LoSole documents a two-year journey with her husband and children, unschooling her young daughters through authentic experiences across Central America. The title is fitting, as the family frequently travels via “chicken bus.” As LoSole explains, this is “a colloquial term used to describe the run-down, discarded school buses from North America sold to Latin American countries, where they are repainted in riotously bright colors, outfitted with stereo speakers, and upcycled with more seats to accommodate man, woman, and child along with their potatoes, avocados, and chickens—and in this case, a family of Canadian backpackers.” 

After selling almost everything they own, the family embarks on their adventure with nothing more than what they can hold in their packs and Lonely Planet Central America on a Shoestring as their guidebook. Each chapter sets the stage for the reader by identifying which country they happen to be in (they travel through Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras and more) while other times the chapter begins by summarizing their recent actions such as when they settle down in the village of Quebrada Ganado, Costa Rica. This is a story of frugality, yet also of the pricelessness of family. 

The family strives to live like locals. They learn Spanish, how to make coconut oil and cheese, and volunteer with several local organizations (that LoSole provides contact information for, should any readers want to reach out). Their volunteer experience working with sea turtles in Parismina, Costa Rica, is especially memorable. The authentic lifestyle challenges the family at times. They experience heat exhaustion, illness, injury, and homesickness. Their strong bond and ability to work together results in them dubbing themselves the “Travel Team,” as their journey forces them to dig deep.

The memoir is written in such a familiar tone that it is easy to picture either yourself or a friend having embarked on this odyssey. LoSole is funny and heartfelt and does not shy away from peeling back the curtain on the trials and tribulations of travelling in general, but especially as a family. The different locales are described as vividly as if viewing a postcard and each excursion documented is unique and a pleasure to read. The occasional inclusion of direct narration from LoSole’s daughters or husband is a witty and clever way to include the whole family.  

At just under 230 pages, Adventure by Chicken Bus is a memoir that will captivate and inspire readers to book their next adventure. During a time where international travel is still limited, it was a pleasure to be transported to Central America through its pages. LoSole’s writing style is honest and her humour turns even the most mundane aspects of travel into wonderful stories. Adventure by Chicken Bus proves that home is truly where the heart is.

Thank you to Janet LoSole for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Borders by Thomas King Illustrated by Natasha Donovan

By Carly Smith

In 1993, author Thomas King published a short story entitled “Borders.” Now, in collaboration with the artist Natasha Donovan, this story has been reimagined in graphic novel form. The 2021 version of Borders explores the varied perspectives of an Indigenous family’s identity, as well as the pain of letting go of a child entering adulthood. In this graphic novel, a boy travels to the American border from the Canadian side with his mom to visit his sister, who has recently left home. When his mom is questioned about her citizenship by the border guards, she offers an answer deemed unacceptable. Mother and son return to the Canadian border, being denied entry again. King intertwines flashbacks which complement the main plot in a way that helps the reader more accurately understand each character and the family dynamic.

The main characters in the book are the son, his sister Laetitia, and their mom. The son is an innocent boy who has yet to become aware of the hardships of bureaucracy for those who identify as Indigenous. He is also naïve to his mother’s pride. His young and unperturbed mind allows readers to recognize the differences between his mom and Laetitia, as well as between his mom and the border guards, with minimal bias. This clever and strategic decision by King makes it difficult to immediately choose a specific side in the arguments the readers encounter, creating curiosity, understanding and empathy. The mother character is full of passion and pride; she is proud of her Indigenous heritage, refusing to identify as a Canadian. She is also struggling with her daughter’s decision to move out and leave their community. Finally, Laetitia is a carefree young woman who is ready for adventure. She is optimistic, insightful, and pleasant. The three personalities come together quite harmoniously even though they are so different.

King chooses the themes of pride and family wisely and, at times, he even beautifully combines them. Dialogues between characters are carefully written to accurately convey different tones and viewpoints, making it feel like the reader is not just passing between frames in the graphic novel, but instead as though the reader has immersed themself in the story and is standing next to those participating in the conversations. A quick, yet thought-provoking read, Borders is sure to ignite curiosity about what it means to be Indigenous in Canada and what family means to you.  

Thank you, HarperCollins Canada, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: A Dark and Secret Place by Jen Williams

By Sarah Murray

Content warning: sexual and physical abuse, murder, kidnapping, suicide, ritualistic killing

A Dark and Secret Place begins when Heather returns to her childhood home after her mother has passed away from suicide. Heather had sworn to herself that she would never return to the place she used to call home, after leaving at 16 years of age due to a troubled relationship with her mother. During the time Heather spends cleaning up her mother’s home, she finds a very troubling correspondence that her mother took part in. For numerous years Heather’s mother has been writing to convicted serial killer Michael Reave, also known as the Red Wolf, and similar murders to his have begun to happen again. 

The letters, alongside the new murders, get Heather involved with the police, including DI Ben Parker, as well as with Michael Reave himself. Heather starts on a mission to learn how and why her mother was writing to Michael. As a journalist, Heather also sees the advantage of having such close contact to the Red Wolf—getting his story and perspective out through her writing could help with her career.

Heather is a very complex, badass and interesting character and I enjoyed reading from her POV even though she was struggling quite a bit with her mother’s death and other aspects of her life. It was interesting to learn alongside Heather about the parts of her mother’s life that she had no idea about. The story also includes some POVs of the murder victims, and I think this really helped with the suspense of the story and had you as the reader become more invested in the person committing these terrible murders. There were also flashbacks through Michael’s POV which I found captivating, as you get to see how he became the person he is and how he is connected to Heather’s mother. Personally, I am fascinated by serial killers and the mystery behind what they do, so I enjoyed seeing the past through Michael’s eyes. This helps the reader to see why he did these awful things, even if there really is no explanation for murdering others.

Jen Williams has a very intriguing and atmospheric writing style that drags you in and has you needing to know what will happen next. I was in a major reading slump in all of June, but I really couldn’t put this one down. The twists and turns of the story also helped to keep me invested alongside the character of Heather. I found some parts so creepy and spooky that when reading at night, I felt uneasy as I turned the pages. The ending was especially wild, and I stayed up way too late finishing the story! I definitely need to read Jen’s next book and I can’t wait for any sort of news on what she has in store for us next.

Thank you to Crooked Lane Books for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Wild Rituals by Caitlin O'Connell

By Christine McFaul

Wild Rituals is a fascinating nonfiction novel written by Caitlin O’Connell. In addition to her writing career, O’Connell is a member of the faculty at Harvard Medical school, a behavioural ecologist, and a world-renowned elephant scientist. She has spent over thirty years studying animals in the wild and even has an award-winning Smithsonian Channel documentary featuring her work.

“We…share 50 percent of our genes with a banana.” 

Never dry or overly academic, Wild Rituals is a very readable blend of interesting and quirky facts with anecdotes and observations taken from the course of O’Connell's incredible career. Having spent her life working in places and seeing things that the average person will likely never experience first-hand, O’Connell makes astute observations comparing the habits and rituals of animals with those of humans.

“I am continually amazed by how much we can learn about ourselves from the wild animals that have captivated our imaginations throughout evolutionary history.”

O’Connell neatly organizes her thoughts into ten crisp sections, each jumpstarted by a beautiful and perfectly chosen quote (seriously, her quote game is impeccable and includes words by Mary Oliver, Leonard Cohen, and many more gems!). There is also a section of stunning animal photography to help provide a visual representation of some of her most salient points. 

Of the ten essays, my favourites include:

“Greeting Rituals - Spit, Snot, and other Social Grease.”  

•   Repositions the seemingly inane or humorous ways that animals and humans reunite as “pivotal to peaceful co-existence.”

“Play Rituals - Catch a Lion by Its Tail.” 

•   Details specific and different types of play that are most integral to survival. Showing how “play has been shown to foster mental agility and overall brain health at any age, and not just in humans.” 

“Grieving Rituals - Ritualized Grieving Through Time.” 

•   A particularly moving section that focuses on Thanatology, “the study of death and the psychological and social conditions surrounding death,” which has historically focused on humans but now includes animals.

What I loved most about Wild Rituals is that rather than taking a doom and gloom approach, O’Connell infuses the text with a genuine love and enthusiasm for the animal world. She does not pontificate but instead creates a framework where it is virtually impossible for readers not to finish without feeling a newfound empathy, kinship, and responsibility for the natural world. This is the power of O’Connell’s words. Particularly timely given the environmental challenges we face. O’Connell ends with a call to action and genuine hope “for our stewardship of this planet and its creatures.”

“We have the power to protect or destroy our surrounding habitat and all the other citizens that share this extremely unique planet with us…if we make the conscious effort to save other species and habitats, we also save ourselves.” 

A quick and lovely read for both nature and animal lovers. And though it is marketed for the adult market, in my opinion, it would be a great choice for teenage readers as well! 

Thank you, Wunderkind PR, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.