Book Review: Son of a Critch by Mark Critch

By Larissa Page

Anyone who is familiar with long running Canadian television show This Hour has 22 Minutes will recognize their roving reporter and cast member Mark Critch. Critch is a Newfoundland born and raised comedian who got his big break in the early 2000s on the iconic satirical news show. In Son of a Critch he recounts being raised in St. John’s, Newfoundland (though on the outskirts of the city itself), going to the local Catholic school, the antics of being raised by older parents, and so on. Son of a Critch is a comedic memoir of a comedic life.

If you’re interested in reading Son of a Critch, which I highly recommend, I advise giving it a try as an audiobook. Narrated by Critch himself, it is perfection. I always love it when a memoir or book is read by its author, it adds something to the experience for me—but in this case I feel it was vital. I felt like I wasn’t listening to an audiobook, but instead to hours and hours of personal stand-up comedy. 

In this memoir, recounting Critch’s childhood, we are given a ton of small stories and insider looks at what life was like for a Catholic, almost-small-town kid. Being an east coaster from a large Catholic family, I found myself laughing hard at some of the stories because they were relatable to me. But I truly believe the stories would be hilarious to anyone, shared upbringing or not.

In particular, I loved Critch’s impressions (something that came through so well in audio) of his parents. He does voice impressions, but in print I know that the expressions themselves would be fantastic. His father’s repeated “Good God” and “Who is calling at this ungodly hour…it was 7:30,” are long running jokes that tie many of his stories together. 

All in all, Son of a Critch is everything I want a celebrity memoir to be when I pick it up. It isn’t too shallow, giving us a real look into his life, and it is funny without being ridiculous. He draws from his own real experiences and his audio delivery is absolutely top notch. Of all the celebrity memoirs I’ve read, this is my favourite and the one I’m most likely to recommend.

Book Review: The Buddhist Chef's Vegan Comfort Cooking by Jean-Philippe Cyr

By Meredith Grace Thompson

Vegan Comfort Cooking is very much what the title claims it to be. It is comfort made vegan; replicating non-vegan dishes using vegan ingredients so that the animal product non-consumer can enjoy the comfort of animal products without the ethical ramifications. Dishes such as meatballs, vegan Hamburger Helper, and burgers trail throughout the book. With an introduction and a breakdown of his pantry from self-proclaimed Buddhist chef Jean-Philippe Cyr, the book focuses very much on Cyr’s life, philosophy, and vegan food staples.  

The recipes are laid out clearly and thoughtfully. Instructions are easy to follow, and results are consistent. The recipes themselves are strong enough to be adjusted slightly without losing their integrity. The physical book is a good size and stays open on the counter easily. It is full of bright photographs showing each dish’s completed look. Glossy photographs also feature Cyr, showing him to be a handsome white male who is clearly being used to sell this particular brand of whitewashed veganism and Buddhism—his relationship with Buddhism is highlighted several times throughout in a way that gives me pause. But more on that later. 

In the same way that Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop sells a particular product to a particular class of people, this book assumes a level of economic privilege. There is a clear attempt to make these meals easy and pantry ready, but the presupposition of a wealthy person’s pantry is difficult to miss. That being said, the meals were yummy and warm in that particular way only comfort food can be. The goal is clear, and it is reached. I would simply ask if the goal is worth reaching for. 

The notion that food is not highly political is naïve to say the least. Within the confines of capitalism those who have access to veganism and to stylized healthy living are separated from those that do not. These lines are often racialized and always based on class. Western capitalism makes it incredibly difficult for those with lesser means to participate in this lifestyle. We actively discourage it, as a society. There are several levels of gatekeeping happening with this book which extend beyond the politicization of food into the fetishization of othered cultures and especially Eastern religions by white colonizers in order to sell themselves as somehow unique on a colonial, capitalistic stage. 

I am speaking here not of individuals but rather of systems wherein culture is appropriated by dominant groups, scooping out the bits that are seen as desirable and leaving behind everything else, leaving cultures violated and torn apart. I don’t know Jean-Philippe Cyr personally. I know nothing about his relationship with Buddhism nor with veganism. But his self-identification as “the Buddhist Chef” feels morally bankrupt in that it is an aspect of cultural currency. What would he be without it? Simply “the chef”—a label far too vague to have individualistic claim. Unless of course you are Bruce Springsteen, a.k.a., “The Boss.” 

I am also struck by the moral implications of a vegan diet heavily supplemented by soy. Cyr claims that we now “have a better understand of where our food comes from and how our dietary choices impact the planet.” And yet, he has chosen to write a book that features soy products to an alarming degree—soy products which are largely owned by the monopoly that is Monsanto, an unethical company that has routinely sued farmers for patent infringement when seeds have sprouted in their fields from transfer by wind. 

Human beings are creatures of contradiction. Having been written by a performative and slightly oblivious person of immense privilege does not make Jean-Philippe Cyr’s book unworthy of reading, I don’t think. Try the leek rolls, they are amazing! But it brings to mind the essay of fabulous Oji-Cree-Salteaux writer jaye simpson, entitled “#whiteveganwitches” from Poetry is Dead Magazine issue 17: coven. I come back to this essay and again and again in my own thinking about colonialism, privilege, and capitalism. simpson states:

Let’s talk about white vegan witches for one moment. Let’s talk about the classism and layers of privilege to be able to practice veganism and witchcraft. Let’s talk about how these white witches shame people and women of colour for the use of animals in their diets and cultural practices. 

Let’s talk about the inaccessibility of veganism and vegetarianism: how unstable food security is in POC communities due to systemic and societal racism. 

The essay ends with an invitation to discuss; with an opening. This is where I would like to end also. I want to discuss this, and the way we digest cookbooks more generally. The way we allow our food to be controlled and the way that we attempt to control the food of others—whether that is by being vegan or by being against veganism. There is a lot to unpack here. But I do not believe that it can be so simple as to say one thing is invalid because the other is true. 

Book Review: Inward Journey: The Life of Lawren Harris by James King

By Caprice Hogg

To many, the name Lawren Harris brings visions of large paintings of snowcapped mountains and icebergs. In Inward Journey, James King gives an account of the professional and private life of Lawren Harris—a dedicated artist who not only focused his attention on his own work but also on the artists around him. He was instrumental in creating an entire art movement in Canada with a focus on portraying a truly Canadian landscape in art. It was Harris’ intellect, vision, and finances that built the Studio Building in downtown Toronto where the Group of Seven were established. These painters shared in Lawren’s artistic ideals.  It is difficult to imagine the Group of Seven, or Canadian art in general, without the influence of Lawren Harris. This is his public persona. 

The most fascinating part of this book was reading the personal details of Harris and seeing the photographs from his private life. James King gives us a glimpse into the life of the man behind the famous paintings. When you read about Harris painting in his studio while wearing a suit jacket and tie, surrounded by white furnishings and white carpet, with opera music playing so loudly the neighbours could hear, it somehow provides deeper meaning to his large oil canvases. King introduces us to a side of the artist that has rarely been seen.

It was shocking to read that Harris was shunned in 1934 by his hometown of Toronto when he chose to divorce his first wife and marry the love of his life, Bess Housser. Due to this scandalous behaviour, they were both exiled from the city and country to which he had dedicated so much of his life. They fled to the United States and eventually landed in Taos, New Mexico, which resulted in some of the most prolific and creative years in Harris’ life. His time spent there provided him with new insight into painting and spirituality that transformed his art. This move made a dramatic shift from his paintings of the Canadian landscapes of the north to abstracted paintings symbolizing higher consciousness. It was fascinating to see how life events unfolded in his private life took literal shape on his canvases.

When the war hit, Harris and his wife were forced to return to Canada. This time they chose the West Coast—Vancouver. He once again began a new art movement, establishing the Canadian Federation of Artists that is still in existence today. He continued to teach and mentor the younger artists that were around him, such as Jack Shadbolt and Gordon Smith. 

I highly recommend this book to anyone who wishes to have a better understanding of one of Canada’s greatest painters. King’s vivid words paint a portrait of one of Canada’s most revered artists. Harris’ art and ideals have left an incredible legacy for generations of artists and now his life story also inspires.

Book Review: We Are One by Susan Hood, Illustrated by Linda Yan

By Christine McFaul

We Are One: How the World Adds Up is a beautiful new picture book written by Susan Hood and illustrated by Linda Yan.

The book begins with the concept of ‘one’—“One can be one thing all on its own”—then leaps into a whimsical and unexpected count upwards to ten using numbered parts making up a single unit. 

But those on their toes, those using their smarts, 

know one can be more than the sum of its parts.

The narrative moves forward in short rhyming couplets. And I will be upfront and admit that I am very picky about rhyming children’s books. When it’s done well, I’m all for it. If something is off in the execution, it seriously detracts from my enjoyment of a story. I am happy to say that the rhyme here is well-executed and lovely. For me, it actually enhanced the reading experience because I love the juxtaposition of early math concepts against the whimsy of the poem. 

The narrative moves upwards in unpredictable and delightful ways, keeping what could have been a very predictable journey from one to ten surprising, engaging, and multi-layered. Managing to leave readers with not only an introduction to fractions, part/wholes, and addition but also an overall message of unity, cooperation, and awe for the world we all share. 

And can I just say, Yan’s illustrations are absolutely gorgeous and bolster that sense of awe. The colour palette is one that is not often used in children’s books, and I am here for it! Yan predominantly uses black and gold, then sprinkles in bright rainbow colours to pop against the dark background. The illustrations are not only lovely but also help to make the complex ideas explored in this book accessible to even the youngest readers. 

Each page also includes facts and/or questions that expand on what is happening in the story. 

Just think: Many single sticks add up to one pile of sticks, but they can also be something more, like a bird’s nest, a beaver dam, or a campfire… What could many stones make?

This additional information is separated and contained with a gold band that runs the bottom of each page—perfect for opening up discussion and lingering over (if you’re in the mood) or can be ignored (for those days you’re just not—hah!). Back-matter includes additional references and resources which will help this book stay relevant for readers on the top end of the picture book age range and beyond. 

If I could recommend one picture book from 2021 to give as a gift, it would be this one. It manages to be both educational and whimsical, beautiful in its writing, illustrations, and concept, with plenty of extras to surprise and delight throughout. Loved it from start to finish. 

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

Book Review: The Spectacular by Zoe Whittall

By Larissa Page

Content warning: drug use and abuse

The Spectacular opens with a bang. It is 1997 and we meet Missy, a 21-year-old indie punk band member who is attempting to safeguard her future by getting her tubes tied before heading out on tour with her all-male band mates. If they can do whatever they want while on tour (sex, drugs, and rock and roll), why shouldn’t she? Of course, the doctors all believe she is too young to make such a decision and so she goes on tour without the operation. 

Having been abandoned by her mother on a commune that her parents founded, Missy was raised by her grandmother Ruth. Her feelings of abandonment lead her to be who she is when we meet her.

We also meet Missy’s mother Carola, who has been living at a yoga retreat since leaving the commune, and who is caught in the middle of a sex scandal involving the guru she stayed with at the yoga retreat.  

Over the course of the first half of The Spectacular, we watch them both struggle to come to terms with having been without each other—Missy having been left, and Carola the one who did the leaving. We get so many peeks behind the curtain of what it means to be a woman and to be a mother. The book addresses issues of women’s autonomy, reproductive rights, and the immense struggles and expectations of motherhood, especially when it means losing a piece of who you feel you are. 

About halfway through the novel our timeline of 1997 ends, and we are given an excerpt of Ruth, the grandmother who raised Missy. We follow her through childhood to young adulthood and see what it meant to be married to her husband who was unfaithful, and what she needed to do to no longer be tied to him once they immigrated to Canada. While it comprises only a small section of this novel, Ruth’s story is powerful, reflecting the themes of motherhood and female bodily autonomy. With Ruth’s story we also see the power of real love— for family and children, as well as romantic love.  

After Ruth’s story, we are given book two, 2013, which continues to follow Missy and Carola 16 years later, after Ruth has helped to reconnect them. Motherhood once again becomes a strong theme, with Carola attempting to be there for Missy, and Missy trying to determine how she feels about having a baby before it’s too late.  Mental health, motherhood, sexual identity, illness, and connection all take a leading role in the themes of book two .

The Spectacular took me longer than normal to read. I took it slowly and savoured it as I went. I truly enjoyed delving into Missy and Carola’s lives as they dealt with these heavy issues that weighed on my heart. Both they and Ruth were lovable and realistic characters and their stories spoke to issues that are not talked about often enough in our society. My only issue with the novel was Missy’s feelings toward motherhood changing, which I believe is totally acceptable and often what happens—but I think sometimes when young women firmly don’t want to be mothers, that remains to be true for their whole lives and we shouldn’t discount or discredit their feelings or tell them they’ll change their minds.

Book Review: Fire Keeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley

By Larissa Page

Firekeeper’s Daughter was all over Instagram, book club lists (Reese’s YA Book Club), and front-facing bookstore shelves earlier this year. With one of the most gorgeous covers this year, it garnered attention for its art as well as for the story’s originality and depth. There is a large amount of young adult fiction out there, but Firekeeper’s Daughter gave us a coming-of-age story unlike others you can find right now.

This story is rich with culture. Author Angeline Boulley hails from Sugar Island, an Indigenous settlement between Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario and Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan. Before reading this book, I wasn’t aware of this settlement/township but now am acquainted with its existence and importance. 

Firekeeper’s Daughter introduces us to Daunis Fontaine, an 18-year-old hockey player who is simultaneously trying to figure out her place in the world and taking care of her mother, who is mourning the death of her brother/Daunis’s uncle. Daunis meets Jamie, the new kid on her brother’s hockey team and they start to form a connection. But when her best friend is killed, Daunis is pulled into a world she didn’t even know existed. Going undercover with the FBI as an informant, she works to try to solve the mystery of who is supplying tainted drugs to her community, and tries her best to hold on to what she knows is real and what community she belongs to. 

This novel is action-packed. It’s big, but it doesn’t feel that way. Young adult novels sometimes leave me feeling like they’re lacking depth in terms of emotion or background, but I didn’t feel that way about this one. It’s a masterful coming-of-age and coming-of-culture tale while also being part thriller and part detective story. I feel like Boulley does her culture proud—the way that Daunis also does her culture proud.

This novel is now displayed face-out on my bookshelf; the cover art is too beautiful and meaningful to hide by sliding it in with spines on display. This also allows me to use the book as an easy recommendation to anyone looking for a quick-moving, thriller-like, detective mystery with a touch of young romance, the theme of finding your place and learning who you are and standing firm in it.

Book Review: A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

By Fayth Simmons

Content Warning: Reference to Sexual, Physical, and Emotional Abuse, Self-Harm, and Suicide 

A Little Life marks the second novel by author and editor-in-chief of T: The New York Times Style Magazine, Hanya Yanagihara. First published in 2015, it has become a critically acclaimed bestseller and recipient of multiple literary awards, including finalist standing in the running for the 2015 Man Booker Prize. The novel explores the dichotomy of humanity. Despite touching on traumatic themes of abuse, the overarching tone is not one of singular darkness—beauty is interspersed throughout, holding space between the characters and their relationships. Despite the trauma, there is love. Despite the loss, there is still life. 

The plot primarily follows the lives of four friends from the beginning of their friendship at college as young adults and into middle age. Though each of the four characters is developed individually, the context generally hinges upon the central character of Jude, a brilliant yet very burdened individual with a layered past. Though a successful lawyer in New York City, Jude suffers privately for reasons that are disclosed intermittently throughout the book in the form of flashbacks. He walks with a distinguishing limp and suffers from associated nerve damage in his spine. These are due, as he explains to his friends, to an unidentified ‘car injury,’ the consequences of which are felt throughout the remainder of Jude’s life. 

As the plot continues, the character development of the remaining group members centralizes upon their interactions with Jude, and their varying degrees of proficiency in understanding his complex identity. Willem, Malcolm, and JB are each very successful in their chosen fields. Willem emerges as a leading actor slightly later in life, after years spent doubling as a waiter, while Malcolm and JB find simultaneous accomplishment in their artistic pursuits—Malcolm as an architect and JB as a painter. Each tries to understand and care for Jude in their own ways, but Willem and Jude grow to form the closest relationship within the group, the bounds of which expand as the characters grow older and face the multiple realities of hardship and heartache. It is Willem who Jude grows to trust the most, and to Willem who he chooses to slowly divulge the pains of his mysterious past.

A Little Life follows a chronological, third-person narrative, which shifts to accommodate the varying perspectives of Jude, Willem, Malcolm, and JB as they build their separate lives, and yet, still, almost helplessly, circle around each other, endlessly searching for the various faces of love, purpose, and place. This third-person narrative is punctured intermittently by a first-person narrative, told from the perspective of an older version of Jude’s adoptive father, Harold, another key character within the novel, and one central to Jude’s experience of familial care. It becomes known later in the plot that Jude suffered from sexual abuse as a child, and this trauma haunts him as an adult. Despite his dark past, however, the book draws largely on themes of love and the overarching power of caring relationships. The complex dynamics between characters are analyzed to form the basis of the novel—a novel that is arguably breathtaking in scope, and technically brilliant, with poetical tones and sharp prose that together deliver a narrative at its best.

Book Review: In My Dreams I Hold A Knife by Ashley Winstead

By Melissa Barbuzzi

Six friends. One college reunion. One unsolved murder. Who killed Heather? What dark secrets will come to light 10 years after graduation?

The plot and characters of Ashley Winstead’s In My Dreams I Hold a Knife were all incredible, and I absolutely devoured this book. I was super hesitant going into it because I thought it would be like just another thriller, but it was not!

The plot felt so realistic, and the college setting is one of my favourites. Right from the beginning, I was transported back to my university days and friendships. The nostalgia that it made me feel quickly turned this into a super entertaining and fast page-turner for me.

I absolutely loved all of the characters in this book. They all have their flaws and unsavory characteristics, but their realness was spot on. The character development throughout was honestly outstanding; it was so deep and made me root for every character regardless of what secrets they may have been hiding. The friendships and the dynamics within the friend group were so raw and realistic, which I think was definitely the reason this didn’t feel like a cliché thriller.

I normally don’t love a dual timeline, but the past and present flashbacks were done really well in this. There was even the occasional change of POV, which you would think would be confusing, but it wasn’t at all! Both of these devices added to the plot and provided the reader with another layer of detail.

The only element that I didn’t love about this book was the number of characters because I could not keep track of them. All of the boys meshed in my mind and there were a few times I had to step back and think, “Okay, who is this again?” but it wasn’t enough to alter how I felt about the book!

Ashley Winstead absolutely knocked it out of the park with this, and the fact that this is a debut is so impressive. I was fully immersed in this book and loved the realness of the plot and characters. This was also the first thriller in a while where the ending actually made sense to me and didn’t feel like it came way out of left field. If you’re looking for a thriller to add to your TBR, this is definitely it! 

Book Review: Chasing Painted Horses by Drew Hayden Taylor

By Larissa Page

Chasing Painted Horses by Drew Hayden Taylor is not a book to be judged by its cover. The cover, up-close tree bark with a few squiggly lines of spray paint, gives nothing to indicate the incredible story that lies inside.

It opens with Ralph Thomas, an Indigenous man from the town of Otter Lake who grew up to be a police officer on the streets of Toronto. On his way home one cold day, he finds a large spray-painted horse on the side of a building that is a stunning replica of a significant drawing from his childhood in Otter Lake. When he discovers that the intuitive homeless man across the street has some clues to the origin of the horse, they begin a conversation over a Tim Horton’s coffee (a break from the cold harsh Toronto streets). From there we jump back to Ralph’s childhood and are introduced to the cast of characters that formed who he is today.

The novel focuses mostly on a single winter in Ralph’s childhood when he meets Danielle, a neglected child from a broken home and the creator of the Horse. The Horse, a drawing, becomes a character on its own, blurring the lines between reality and imagination. The Horse affects everyone in a different way, revealing true natures, and leading the children to discover realities of their world beyond what they’ve known. The Horse grows, and with it the children, and with it the story.

This novel is a literary masterpiece. It is deep and symbolic and meaningful, while also by turns funny, suspenseful, and gut-wrenching. The children’s view of the world and of problem-solving; their clear-cut solutions vs. the reality of the bureaucratic, adult side of decision-making are harsh reminders of the very real problems surrounding child welfare.

Ralph, William, Shelley, and Danielle are all very well-formed and well-thought-out child characters. They speak, sound, and think like people in their formative years. Each of them has a different life experience, and the way these experiences lead them to perform their actions is clear. They each experience immense growth through the events of that one winter and that is shown in their adult lives.

This novel is not linear. We know where each of the children end up right at the start, and then the novel shows us how and why. Despite this, Taylor manages to keep us in suspense throughout, which I found impressive.

This book was recommended to me last year and I didn’t rush to pick it up until it arrived in a book club box I received. Remembering the recommendation, I was excited to see what it had in store. I am surprised it didn’t get more attention upon publication, because it is an incredible story.

Book Review: My Indian by Mi'sel Joe and Sheila O'Neill

By Carly Smith

In My Indian, Suliewey is a Mi’kmaw man who has been tasked with leading a white settler across Newfoundland to the Beothuk, another group of Indigenous peoples. It’s the 1800s, and relationships and encounters between white and Indigenous peoples in Canada are strained, raw, and uncomfortable. After consulting his friends and family in his home community, Suliewey agrees to take Cormack, the white man, on the journey, but does not disclose that he will not actually bring him to the Beothuk.  

The journey between Suliewey and Cormack covers a lot of ground, both in distance and in how much is revealed about the settler perceptions of Indigenous peoples at the time. Readers are exposed to the initial impressions that settlers and Indigenous folks had towards each other, and a long and arduous physical and spiritual voyage leaves readers reflecting on current and past relationships between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people in this land.

The authors create Suliewey as a gentle, loyal, and cautious man. He is resourceful, wise, and boasts a good sense of humour. He is tactful in how he handles the predicaments and mishaps in his journey, as well as the way in which Cormack treats him. He understands that there is tension between his people and Cormack’s, but he treads carefully throughout his travels, aware that arguing and fighting back will cause more harm than good in this particular situation. Cormack is a stubborn man who acts superior—even though he is aware that he must rely on Suliewey’s knowledge and skills. He takes part in the journey unwilling to learn from Suliewey and treats him with condescension. Although the two clash repeatedly, both learn from the other and both gain a profound understanding of themselves. 

Mi’sel Joe and Sheila O’Neill track the men’s journey in a thought-provoking way. Readers are offered viewpoints from both men, encouraging the book’s audience to be curious about what had happened in these men’s lives previously, and what will happen in the future. I was excited to see that the chapters were recounted from more than one perspective; this added to the element of empathy. Although I found the book started off slowly, I was happy to persevere, and it quickly became a page-turner. Not only did My Indian prompt a deeper interest in the beginning of the Indigenous/settler relationship in Canada, it also reignited a desire to travel within my own country and learn more about its origins. 

Book Review: Secrets of the Hotel Maison-Neuve by Richard Levangie

By Larissa Page

Secrets of the Hotel Maisonneuve is a middle-grade adventure story focusing on the worst summer of Jacob Jollimore’s life. His father has lost his job and his family has moved into an Edwardian hotel to renovate it. While on one of his errands for his father, he is chased by a bully and ends up knocking over and injuring an elderly Vietnamese woman. His parents then decide he will help her every afternoon as she heals. No friends, no fun—just an old hotel and an elderly lady who “hates” him. 

That is until he finds the first clue to a scavenger hunt set out by a boy who lived in the hotel 100 years ago. In amongst his helping, chores, and work, Jacob starts solving and finding many of the clues and gifts Elliott had left a century ago. Through the story, Jacob grows to learn about the culture he was adopted from, why some people act and bully the way they do, and he comes to learn about responsibilities.

I really enjoyed the adventure side of this book, the clues and the hunt, and the puzzles. I also enjoyed that it was included within the normal day-to-day life of this 13-year-old boy who had responsibilities to his family and to helping Mrs. Nguyen. It gave the sense that adventure can be found in and around the life you’re already living, which I think is a good lesson for those reading middle-grade novels.

I also appreciated the narrative around immigration and learning and sharing of one’s culture. Jacob was an adopted child from Vietnam but has little knowledge of his culture. He learns more as he gets to know Mrs. Nguyen, once the animosity is gone. I even think the animosity itself is well done; sometimes we need to understand or be reminded that we still have responsibilities and have to complete them even if we are not outwardly appreciated or liked for them. I found both of these issues to be written in an appropriate way for the audience. Especially once we learn why Mrs. Nguyen feels the way she does—as it is not 100 percent about Jacob, it is also not always 100 percent about us.  

In that same vein, we are also briefly shown both sides of the issue of bullying in this story. While Jacob does put a stop to it, he also is shown enough to give him empathy for another person, which doesn’t excuse the bully’s behaviour, but again, gives Jacob the understand that it wasn’t necessarily about him. 

This type of story with action, adventure, and puzzles is just the type of story my eight-year-old loves to read. I am excited to share this story with her soon as I believe it is sensitive and approaches the heavier topics very well while also giving some tidbits of wisdom at the perfect level for its readers.

Book Review: The Boy with Fire by Aparna Verma

By Melissa Khan

When I saw the Tik Tok that author Aparna Verma made about her YA science fantasy novel, The Boy With Fire, I ran to find my copy. I was drawn in by the promise of a fantasy novel full of strong and morally grey characters, fire bending, and inspired by Indian mythology. Our journey begins with Yassen Knight, an ex-assassin on the run from a dangerous rebel group. Yassen has been offered a deal, brokered by his childhood friend Samson, to serve as the princess’ sworn sword. Behind the castle walls he meets Princess Elena, almost ready to ascend the throne of Ravence, but struggling with one thing, and her father King Leo, who may be descending into madness. The story follows these three important characters as they move through the political atmosphere at court. 

The backdrop of Ravence is mystical and causes readers to become thirsty for more—and not just because it’s a vast desert. I thought the worldbuilding was decently explored, but there were certainly moments when I felt I could’ve done with more description. For a fantasy novel, I expected an intimate explanation regarding the different places within the desert kingdom and the relationship between political groups and the magical elements. There was a beautifully drawn map at the beginning of the book that I tried referencing a number of times but felt I didn’t know enough about my surroundings to utilize it fully. The writing, though melodic and enjoyable, didn’t lend itself to these more specific details. 

In particular, the fire bending aspect was something I looked forward to. I loved the moments when we see Elena research and practice her fire bending. But the importance of holding fire was not shown as clearly. I think more conversations between Elena and Leo could have provided the context this part of the story was missing. 

I was promised strong, well-rounded female characters and was not disappointed. I particularly found her in Ferma, one of Princess Elena’s guards. Did Ferma show her strength in the training room and through her fierce protection of Elena’s physical well being? Absolutely! But her real strength came from her moral character and her loving nature. She cared deeply for Elena and spoke her mind when she felt she had something important to say. I felt that Ferma was such a grounding character for both Elena and Yassen, and provided so much to both of their stories.

In general, the characters were my favourite part of the story. I was captured by their inner monologues and their sometimes-unreliable narration. There were times I didn’t know how to feel or who to trust, even when they were speaking right to me. Towards the end of the novel, I started to feel it was becoming rushed, there was so much happening at once, which left me confused and frustrated. But it came together at the bitter end with a most satisfying final goodbye and set up for a much-anticipated sequel. 

Book Review: The Shimmering State by Meredith Westgate

By Lauren Bell

Content warning: drug use

Imagine being able to pick and choose memories. 

That’s what the experimental drug, Memoroxin—better known by its street name, Mem—essentially does. In The Shimmering State, Meredith Westgate introduces us to a society that has been infiltrated by this drug. Initially, Mem started as treatment for Alzheimer’s; memories could be relived in hopes that they could be recovered. However, once the general public learned of its euphoric effects, its use spread like wildfire. This led to the development of the Center, a cultlike rehabilitation facility specifically for Mem users, where this novel is set.  

The plot follows the journey of three characters as they navigate the Center from different nonlinear perspectives. Lucien is a tortured artist who had been stealing his grandmother’s Mem to spend time with his deceased mother. Sophie, an ex-dancer, is the elusive patient that he is drawn to at the Center, and whom Lucien is certain he knows from Before. The third voice is that of Dr. Angelica Sloane, the coordinator at the Center. Originally, Dr. Sloane seems like the perfect villain, self-assured and strong in her convictions that she’s doing work for the better. But her fragility is seen once her daughter becomes one of her patients. 

In the first few chapters, the novel reads like an acid trip. This sounds like a criticism but isn’t; it was intentionally done to portray Mem’s vivid influences. Later, Westgate’s writing turns into a very delicate and eloquent prose, complementing her characters’ introspective streams of consciousness against the plastic world of Los Angeles. Westgate prompts us to ponder the Shimmering State: is it a city or a high? Rooted in the setting is also imagery of the ocean, expansive and unpredictable, acting as the physical counterpart to the novel’s themes of the limits of memory, identity, and loss.

I enjoyed reading The Shimmering State. The characters were real and substantial, delving past their tortured artist or villain archetypes. Although Mem isn’t a drug we face in reality, one could draw comparisons to the very real opioid crisis, and Westgate effectively illustrates how addiction affects more than just the user. I have great respect for the harm reduction philosophies sewn into the novel. I found it very well written and admire the way Westgate gave mundane things a fresh approach. In short, The Shimmering State is contemporary, thought provoking, and absolutely worth the read. 

Book Review: Little Fish by Casey Plett

By Dylan Curran

“No she wasn’t any happier, no she didn’t feel any more like a real girl. But she was calmer now, like a small buzzing part of her brain had been turned off, and was now forever at rest.” So explains Wendy, our main character in Casey Plett’s Little Fish. Affectionately called “Wendy-burger” by her roommate, she is a fierce, compassionate, and genuine character that breathes life into the novel.

Little Fish is a humble and thought-provoking look at the trans community in Canada. It is no surprise that it has been decorated by so many awards (Amazon Canada First Novel Award, Lambda Literary Award, and Firecracker Award for Fiction, to name a few). As we follow Wendy throughout her stumbles and triumphs, we begin to unravel the intricacies of the system that has made it its mission to create barrier upon barrier for the 2SLGBTQIA+ community. 

Although the book is set in Winnipeg (i.e., “Winterpeg”) we find ourselves making connections to other cities and small towns dotted around the country. From Mennonites to sex workers and everyone in between, we meet a plethora of rich characters, each with their own voice. We mourn with Wendy. We rage with her. We celebrate with her. And we definitely take another shot of vodka with her! 

While there are sad moments throughout the novel, there are also eclipses of happiness—pure joy that leaves the reader with a genuine smile on their face. I couldn’t help but feel for characters like Lila; we ache with the same twinges of loss and despair. But it is Plett’s focus on relationships that guides us through our grief, with dialogue that lends itself well to the delicacy of the subject matter. We find ourselves yearning for those same moments of intimacy and friendships that occur in the novel.  

I was touched by the careful tenderness exchanged between father and daughter. When Wendy visits Ben we immediately feel the wholesomeness of his unconditional love for his daughter— the easiness of it, the agility. By extension, you too feel loved. It is a stark difference between the narratives we are expected to believe about 2SLGBTQIA+ folks being ostracized from their loved ones. We need more books that detail these relationships, ones without the strife of coming out and being tossed away. Plett presents us with hope, futility, and love. 

My favourite parts of this novel centre around Wendy’s inner dialogue. The honesty of her doubts and the way she deals with them forced me to take a look at my own life. How should I be examining this moment? What is this snippet of time contributing to the whole of my experience? 

I want to leave you with a quote from the book that replayed in my mind long after I read the last page: 

Here, here is my skin that feels like your skin, my muscles and frailties that feel like yours, the lift of your flesh something I intuitively know from my own body, inner maps that, for most of my life, I thought were purely shameful and mine alone. And here, with you, with me, for minutes, for hours, if nothing else—a line from a book Wendy couldn’t remember appeared to her in a slippery ripple of memory—If I loved you, this is how I would love.

Book Review: Vicious Spirits by Kat Cho

Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warning: violence, gore, character death, abusive relationships 

Kat Cho’s Vicious Spirits is the sequel to Wicked Fox and follows Somin and Junu as well as Miyoung and Jihoon from the previous book. This review will focus on Vicious Spirits but will avoid spoiling Wicked Fox. Four months after the climax of Wicked Fox, Somin is struggling to watch Jihoon and Miyoung pick up the pieces of their former lives. Having spent her whole life suppressing her own needs to protect the needs of those she loves, Somin is willing to do whatever it takes to help Miyoung and Jihoon get back to their old selves. And if that means putting up with a guilt stricken Junu, so be it (but that doesn’t mean she’s going to let him off easy!).

But the events of Wicked Fox have torn a hole between the worlds of the living and the dead, and it’s up to Junu to find a way to close the tear and save Miyoung’s life. For Junu, this could mean everything; a new family, forgiveness, and a community of people who understand him. Unfortunately, there are people from Junu’s past who want to take advantage of the tear between worlds to seek revenge by targeting the people he’s only just allowed himself to care about. 

This book promises ghosts, hauntings, evil exes, and more, and while it does deliver all those things, the book didn’t provide me with enough urgency and tension to really make those plot elements feel as significant as the synopsis made them out to be. Though on a much quicker timetable than the first book, the story takes its time, and as a result, it doesn’t always feel as though there is any real danger to the characters. For that reason, I had a tough time getting into this book. However, while I do feel like the story falls a little short on supernatural action and suspense, where Kat Cho thrives in both these novels is in her examinations of the central characters and how they tick. Somin and Junu are both emotionally complex, scarred people, and this book really takes the time to explore their internal struggles, touching on complex themes like grief, friendship, and identity. All four characters in this novel need to overcome their traumas and past experiences in order to save each other and themselves. The plot might not have met my expectations, but the character studies and development in this book more than made up for it. 

Wicked Fox and Vicious Spirits are unique YA reads. While set against a supernatural backdrop, the real heart of these books is in the characters and their emotional journeys. These characters feel real, their struggles leap off the page, and their successes feel so rewarding to read about because of each characters’ vibrancy and life. While these books may not be the most exciting or have the most epic supernatural fights, you will fall in love with the cast and root for them in both their individual journeys and in the relationships they form with each other. 

This book, and Wicked Fox, are perfect reads for YA fans looking for complex, character-driven stories with a touch of the supernatural. 

Thank you to Penguin Random House for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: The Sister's Tale by Beth Powning

By Anusha Runganaikaloo

Content warning: child abuse, child neglect, sexual assault, misogyny

Oliver Twist meets Anne of Green Gables in The Sister’s Tale by Beth Powning, a skillful portrayal of small-town life in 19th century New Brunswick. Josephine Galloway, who runs the family house while her sea captain husband is away, is cornered into purchasing British home child Flora Salford at a pauper auction in order to save her from predators.

Flora soon becomes a vital figure in the Galloway household. Her sharp mind, deft hands, and practical intelligence prove invaluable, especially when tragedy strikes and Josephine is forced to turn her home into a boarding house to avoid losing it. 

An improbable bond develops between Josephine, her daughter Maud, and the housemaids, as they struggle together to make ends meet and settle into a life of genteel poverty. Lines are blurred and boundaries broken as maids and mistresses become like sisters.

After a lifetime of trials, Flora at last feels like she belongs. However, until she finds her sister Enid, whom she was tricked into leaving at a workhouse in England five years ago, when both were still little girls, she will never be at peace. So when she learns that Enid is working on a farm in Nova Scotia, she sets out on a perilous journey to find her.

The story unfolds with a murder mystery as a backdrop, which gives it an interesting edge. Unfortunately, this subplot seems far-fetched and awkward at times, not to mention jarringly dramatic in comparison to the main plot. However, the ambiguity of one of the suspects, as well as the irresistible, nauseating pull Flora feels toward him, is portrayed in a very realistic manner.

Their twisted relationship is nonetheless hard to stomach, and the reader may feel a mixture of empathy and powerless rage as Flora, who has never known love or respect from a man, is manipulated by Jasper Tuck. The combination of street smarts and profound naïveté that make up Flora’s personality is understandable, as she has been treated no better than a workhorse all her life.

Several social issues relevant to the period are dealt with in this well-researched novel, which takes place at a time when the suffrage movement was gaining momentum, corsets were being discarded, and women were timidly starting to be admitted to the legal profession.

However, it was also a time when widows without a will did not have custody of their own children. Orphaned children were still being shipped out from workhouses in England to Canada, making their existence one of endless exploitation and abuse. Pauper auctions still took place in towns where almshouses did not exist. 

These lesser-known aspects of Canadian history are presented in a very engaging way, and the author’s elegant style makes me impatient to discover her other novels, especially The Sea Captain’s Wife, in which some of the colourful characters from The Sister’s Tale are the protagonists.

Thank you to Knopf Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Operation Angus by Terry Fallis

By Dahl Botterill

Operation Angus is my first Terry Fallis book. I've never read his work, so I was a little hesitant about diving into an established series. The novel primarily follows Angus McLintock, recently re-elected Member of Parliament for Cumberland-Prescott, and Daniel Addison, his Chief of Staff, as they prepare for a brief post-G8 meeting between the Canadian prime minister and the Russian president. While in London to discuss the plans for said event, they are contacted by a clandestine agent looking to recruit their help investigating a potential assassination plot. Unfortunately, partly as a result of events outlined in previous books, they don't have many friends among the branches of government they most need help from. So, our unlikely heroes are obligated to go it alone, investigating with the help of Daniel's partner Lindsay, her grandmother Muriel, and Muriel's friend Vivian, a former CSIS official living at the Riverfront Seniors' Residence with Muriel. 

My concerns about stepping into a series already underway were unnecessary. Fallis does a great job at providing just enough information at pertinent moments that I felt neither lost nor bogged down by excessive retelling. Finding a balance between enough and too much can be tricky sometimes, but I had no issues with Operation Angus. The characters aren't tremendously complex, which made stepping into the already-established world of said characters as a novice much easier. This simplicity could be an issue in a meatier book, but Operation Angus is a fairly light romp at heart, so it works. The author's prose is comfortable and easy to read, the story was fun and often amusing, and the sizeable cast of characters was enjoyable and easy to keep track of. 

The book also strikes some profoundly Canadian chords and contradictions, from the very particular nature of the politics to the gentle nature of some of the roadblocks faced by Angus and Daniel. Their enemies, political and otherwise, undermine their efforts without stooping to full-blown impropriety, guided by but never driven by personal vendettas. The Ottawa they inhabit includes both beautiful locations and unfortunate building projects, often in close proximity to one another. Even our heroes find themselves walking a fine line between their motives and responsibilities.

With all this said, Operation Angus won't be for everybody. Readers generally drawn to heavier fare may find themselves a little underwhelmed, but it certainly doesn't do anything wrong. For folks that enjoy a bit of Canadian humour with a playful attitude and a dash of politics, this might be just the ticket. 

Book Review: em by Kim Thúy

By Carmen Lebar

Content warning: death, war, violence, racism, rape

Em is the newest novel by Kim Thúy. This short novel centres around the Vietnam/American War, and the explicit and implicit effects it has on the characters in the story. Although this is a short novel, it’s multifaceted and delivers a lot within its few pages. The novel weaves together fact and fiction in a beautiful and meaningful way. By the time I finished reading this novel, I felt like I had read a novel quadruple in size. I learned a lot and experienced a bird’s eye view into the many atrocities that happened during this time in history. It’s a novel that I think excels in its historical referencing and narration.

Thúy begins the novel with the arrival of French colonizers in Vietnam and depicts the plantations they built. From there, she describes many key moments in Vietnamese history, mainly during the war. One moment you’ll be learning about the plane crash in Operation Babylift and how some of the characters were connected to this horrible accident, and the next you’ll learn about Operation Frequent Wind and the lives that flourished after this evacuation. These significant historical events are so deeply rooted in each and every character that it creates a vast web that is extremely intricate and delicate. I was shocked by these events, but also amazed by how eloquently Thúy writes about them. Thúy uses these historical events to frame the stories she tells, but also to expose how all stories are rooted in history. 

Although sparse, the narration in this novel does more than most novels can do in 500 pages. Each chapter provides a brief glimpse into history or story. This scarcity of language reflects the ways in which a lot of the characters (and the real people who experienced these historical events) couldn’t speak of the atrocities and horrors they saw. It forces the reader to fill in the gaps and make connections. Thúy is skilled in her narration; she evokes so much emotion in these small chapters. I will say that the book does end a bit abruptly in a way that diverges from the rest of the novel a bit. Yet, I feel it doesn’t hurt the overall story in the slightest. 

Em is a wonderful, brief novel that is poignant yet optimistic. It left me wanting to learn more about the main characters—Tâm, Louis, and Emma-Jade. Yet all I will get are these brief vignettes of history and fiction woven into this amazing story. I didn’t know a lot about the Vietnam/American War going into this novel, but now I feel I have learned enough to have a starting point in understanding what happened. And that’s what great historical fiction does—it teaches you history you may not have known, and it influences you to educate yourself. I highly recommend this novel to anyone who likes reading shorter books—but shorter books that don’t lack depth. If you love historical fiction, literary fiction, or want to read more novels by Asian authors, I think Em by Kim Thúy is a great pick.

Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review. Please note that Carmen has recently acquired a new position with Penguin Random House Canada. Her thoughts and opinions are her own, but for transparency we'd like to share this detail.

Book Review: Where the Truth Lies by Anna Bailey

By Rebekah Dolmat

Content warning: child abuse, child alcoholism, child drug use, child neglect, conversion therapy, domestic abuse, homophobia, murder, racism and racial violence, sexual abuse

Anna Bailey’s debut novel, Where the Truth Lies, is a slow-burning, atmospheric and chilling read that follows the disappearance of a seventeen-year-old girl from the small, insular town of Whistler Ridge, Colorado.  

When Abigail goes missing in the woods one night following a party, her best friend Emma seems to be the only one who cares. Although Emma’s concern is largely rooted in her guilt of having left Abigail alone, she feels compelled to find out what really happened to her best friend.  As Emma strives to uncover the truth behind Abigail’s disappearance, she also uncovers a plethora of deeply rooted small town dark secrets.  

Where the Truth Lies starts off really, really strong.  The writing is excellent and the insular small town setting is atmospheric, eerie, and completely captivating.  However, at some point in the novel the focus of the story shifts, leaving the reader feeling perplexed—the book becomes less about uncovering the truth of what happened to Abigail, and almost entirely about the dark secrets and small minds of the townspeople.  To put it simply, I think that Bailey attempted to include too many big ideas, touchy subjects, and extremely large character arcs for secondary characters that, when all put together, confuse the main plot, which is supposed to be about a missing teenager.

However, instead of focusing on Abigail’s disappearance, the book hyper-focuses on several big issues:

·      child abuse and child neglect

·      child alcoholism and drug use

·      domestic violence and sexual abuse

·      homophobia and conversion therapy

·      racism and racial violence

·      violence in the name of Christianity

While there is nothing wrong with including any of these issues in a novel, the downfall of Where the Truth Lies is its attempt to address too many issues—especially for a book under 300 pages.  The added issues detract from the story, cause plot holes, and essentially defeat the purpose of including them in the story in the first place.  Had this book not included so many issues, I think I would have enjoyed it more.  Nonetheless, I’ll be looking forward to seeing what Anna Bailey has in store for her readers next!

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

Book Review: Ayesha at Last by Uzma Jalaluddin

By Samreen Khan

Content Warning: human trafficking threats, miscarriage. 

I read this book last year when the pandemic hit, and I was looking for diverse Muslim representation in Canadian literature. I came across this book by chance while browsing Muslim authors on the Edmonton Public Library website. Borrowing this book was probably the best thing I did last year. 

Ayesha at Last is a story set in suburban Toronto, based on Muslim families living there. It starts off with a bang—a snobbish man judging a struggling hijabi woman getting into her car. The story traces the life of Ayesha Shamsi, who wants to be a poet but is settling for a teaching job to pay off her family debts. She lives in suburban Toronto with her inter-generational family that migrated from India years ago, and gets unwittingly entangled between the lives of reserved bachelor Khalid and her younger naïve cousin Hafsa. Khalid is as smart and intelligent as he is orthodox and conservative, and her cousin is everything would-be mother-in-laws search for: rich, beautiful, young, and naïve. The story revolves around how Ayesha must navigate not wanting an arranged marriage, dealing with orthodox Khalid, and managing her younger cousin’s constant refusals to get married. Things take a drastic turn when Khalid gets engaged to Hafsa, all the while thinking of Ayesha. 

Ayesha’s character is spunky, sassy, and true to her faith. She believes in herself and speaks her mind. Her character is juxtaposed against the character arc of Khalid, who is conservative and dresses in suburban Toronto as though he lives in the 17th century. His character goes through tremendous upheaval and growth in the book, and I loved how he learns to take control of his life eventually.  

Uzma Jalaluddin has taken an exceedingly fresh spin on Pride and Prejudice in her debut novel Ayesha at Last. I loved this book for several reasons. First and foremost, the narration style of the author is phenomenal. The writing flows effortlessly between introducing various characters and their backdrops and intertwines their lives. It is a simple book that touches upon exceedingly difficult topics in the immigrant South Asian Muslim communities. Without giving away the entire plot, I would like to mention that the story traces heavy topics such as motherin-laws looking for the richest brides that can bring monetary support to their sons, looking down upon children coming from divorced families, human trafficking rackets, and disowning children under the garb of family honour. I would also like to mention how the author casually slips in the covert/overt racism that exists in corporate Canada via Khalid’s character, who visually represents the media nightmare of a traditional Muslim.

Coming back to why I love this book, my main attraction is the humour and clash between Ayesha and Khalid. Their clashes are what love stories are made of: real, witty, and lovable. I also adore the manner in which the author makes sure that the extended family consistently weaves into the story—this is true of any Indian Muslim family and is an apt representation of the plot setting. I could not put this book down and read it in two days flat. As an Indian Muslim woman, many things resonated with me about the story, the way characters interact, and the manner in which having faith is as normal as breathing for many practicing Muslims. I would sign off by saying: this book is an Indian Muslim romantic comedy set in Canada! I have never come across something that resonates so close to my heart! It’s hilarious and lovable—I vote that a movie should be made from this book!