Book Review: We Were Never Here by Andrea Bartz

By Jamie Maletta

Content Warning: Sexual assault, suicide, manipulation, and abuse. 

I’ve been wanting to experiment more with fiction novels vs. my go-to nonfiction pieces—memoirs, motivational self-help books, and better living “type” categories. We Were Never Here by Andrea Bartz has been displayed and advertised on all major platforms. It’s been featured in Reese’s Book Club and on number one bestsellers lists everywhere you look. My first thought? A safe bet. 

Jumping into chapter one we meet two best friends, Emily and Kristen, who have embarked on an annual fun and adventurous backpacking trip through Chile. During this trip, things take a turn for the worst, and after a traumatic altercation, they are both involved in a self-defence murder for the second year in a row—again. The first murder had happened only a year prior, and there was no way that this kind of history could be repeating itself. Or could it? Did it? The girls do their best to cover their tracks, returning to America in an attempt to forget the past and move forward, but as the shocking details and obsessions start to unravel, the media begins to cover the murder. We are taken on a journey through the girls’ friendship and their history. We learn quickly that Kristen’s history is much different than she’s ever let on, and some suspicious situations and unusual behaviours begin to surface. But is this Emily overthinking the whole situation? Have the traumatic experiences abroad made her question every detail of their lives, making her search for problems that don’t exist? 

I added this book to my Kindle during a very long road trip thinking I’d get a good jump start at some point during the car ride if there was time (#travellingwithatoddler). What I was not expecting was to binge-read the entire book, periodically closing it to take a break, and immediately giving in to more. Thankfully, my toddler was happy playing (for the most part), and I could jump right back in. I just couldn’t sit still with my thoughts, wondering what was going to happen next. 

This novel is a psychological thriller like I’ve never experienced, and I felt like Bartz had me on the edge of my seat from start to finish. Just when I thought I’d possibly figured it out, or knew what to expect next, I’d be thrown a curveball. I loved it. Not only is it incredibly addicting in the way it’s written—leaving you wanting more following each chapter—but the chapters aren’t too long, preventing story overload. It’s laid out perfectly to be indulged in all at once, or as you have time. 

I am absolutely adding more books by Andrea Bartz to my must-read list, and I totally recommend We Were Never Here to anyone who loves a good thriller! I’m so happy this is where I began my new fiction journey and I look forward to reading so much more by Andrea Bartz! 

Book Review: Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan

By Sara Hailstone

Content warning: abuse, forced adoption

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan is a story dedicated to the victims of Ireland’s Magdalen laundries. These victims were women and children. The last laundry closed in 1996, and the staggering reality is that nine thousand children died “in just eighteen of the institutions investigated.” No apology had been issued by the Irish government or the Catholic Church, not until Taoiseach Enda Kenny did in 2013.  Keegan’s third work offers a concise and humble reckoning of the atrocities committed against these women and children. 

Set around the days approaching Christmas, protagonist Bill Furlong, a coal and timber merchant, stumbles into the misery and mistreatment of women in the laundry at his local convent. Furlong is a wholesome family man; he lives with his wife Eileen and their five daughters. He courted Eileen in a ‘high school sweetheart’ way, taking her to “the cinema and for long walks along the town path in the evenings.” Told from his narrative point-of-view, Furlong is quietly facing the edge of midlife and risked mundanity. 

Always it was the same, Furlong thought; always they carried on mechanically on, without pause, to the next job at hand. What would life be like he wondered, if they were given time to think and to reflect over things? Might their lives be different or much the same or would they just lose the run of themselves? 

His life changes one evening while delivering coal when he finds in a chapel a roomful of young women and girls on their hands and knees polishing the floor. “As soon as they see him, they look like they had been scalded.” These women and girls, roped in rags and black soiled feet, hair shorn and cut with shears, ask Furlong for help. “Mister, won’t you help us?” But, they are locked in by Mother Superior. 

In subtle and profound ways, this novel is about women. Women with “their canny intuitions, were so much deeper: they could predict what was to come long before it came, dream it overnight, and read your mind. He’d had moments, in his marriage, when he’d almost feared Eileen and had envied her mettle, her red-hot instincts.” Furlong is surrounded by these women who feel and possess a hinted-at ancient female intuition. Yet, an underlining theme is that amongst the travesties that these women go through, he is unchanged and fears a trivial life. “Might things never change or develop into something else, or new? Lately, he had begun to wonder what mattered, apart from Eileen and the girls. He was touching forty but didn’t feel himself to be getting anywhere or making any kind of progress and could not but sometimes wonder what the days were for.” And when he comes across the young women and girls in poverty and working amongst inhumane conditions at the laundry, Furlong questions, “But what if it was one of ours?” 

“Tis not one of ours,” Eileen responds. 

And is that the very point? 

“When he reached the convent, the reflection of his headlights crossed the windowpanes and it felt as though he was meeting himself there.”  

Furlong finds a girl in the coal house, stained in her own excrements with shorn hair. “Tis not one of ours.” And, with a baby that is 14 weeks old, the Mother Superior brings the infant to the imprisoned mother to feed and then they take the child away. “Tis not one of ours.” 

“Won’t you ask them about my baby?” the girl implores Furlong, and he is haunted. He waits it out in a quiet confrontation with the Mother Superior in which he knows the religious institution is keeping the treatment and imprisonment of the girls a secret. “Furlong watched the girl being taken away and soon understood that this woman wanted him gone, but the urge to go was being replaced by a type of contrariness to stay on, to hold his ground. Already, it was light outside. Soon, the bells for first Mass would ring. He sat on, encouraged by this queer, new power. He was, after all, a man amongst women here.”

Eye to eye with Mother Superior he does something to shake the privileged security of his world. “Sure haven’t we a house full? What’s one more?” Eileen had said to Furlong about asking a neighbour over for Christmas right before her husband steps out of the door and into a humble village trek to bring the girl with the 14-week-old baby home to him. “Climbing the street towards his own front door with the barefooted girl and the box of shoes, his fear more than outweighed every other feeling but in his foolish heart he not only hoped but legitimately believed that they would manage.” 

My only critique amongst this sliver of a hero’s journey: what happens next? The story of the treatment of these women and children by the state and church is unsettling, but Furlong’s experience is necessary to tell. The narrative strives to provide justice for these women and children but could be pulled through in more focus of characterization and the ordering of plot. Furlong faced the critique of an entire village in blacklisting these women and children to moral subordination and inhumane servitude. Keegen succeeds in showing the social normalization of mistreatment within the folds of institutions designed with the assumption to protect others and to be representatives of spirit. Both are neither.  

Grove Atlantic published a second collection, Walk the Blue Fields, after acquiring Keegan’s debut story collection, Antarctica, from the young Irish Writer. Now, they have published Small Things Like These.

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

Book Review: The Storyteller by Dave Grohl

By Christa Sampson

Long before Dave Grohl became part of Nirvana—one of the most revolutionary and popular rock bands of all time—he was just a kid from Virginia learning anything and everything about music as he tried to find his place in the world. Fast forward to the mid-1990s when Grohl created new music and formed the Foo Fighters, one of the most successful touring rock bands in the world. In The Storyteller, Dave Grohl brings readers along on his life journey, connecting a series of experiences that inspired him to pursue music and created the opportunity for a life beyond his imagination.

If you’re a fan of Nirvana, the Foo Fighters, or both, you know that Dave Grohl can write amazing rock songs. You may not know that he is a talented writer—full stop. When the pandemic hit in March 2020, Grohl, like many touring musicians, was left with a whole lot of nothing to do. But the creative brain must create at all costs. So, instead of writing songs, Dave Grohl decided to… write. It began as an Instagram account with the handle @davestruestories, but  instead of pictures, readers would swipe through his personal essays. The stories were engaging and oftentimes laugh out loud funny. After reading a few of these posts, I thought to myself: I bet Dave Grohl is writing a book. A few months later, the book was announced. During this time, Dave also penned a couple of articles for renowned publication The Atlantic, both of which are fantastic, and I encourage you to read those as well.

If you follow Grohl’s widely popular Instagram account, you may recognize a few of the anecdotes; however, The Storyteller is not by any means repetitive of that material. This book takes a far deeper dive into various experiences, life lessons, and personal reflection over a life lived on the road. Some people have the unique ability to write in a voice that is so authentically themselves that you don’t need an audiobook to hear the words they are speaking.  Dave Grohl is one of those people. This memoir is a captivating read; real and unfiltered.  

If you’re looking for a juicy tell-all about the rise and fall of Nirvana, this is definitely not it. As Grohl writes in the book: “[he] is a fan too”. Throughout the stories, Dave meets and becomes friends with many of his own musical heroes. There is an equal number of stories about being in a band as there are about Dave Grohl’s life off stage. He’s a devoted family man, a fiercely loyal friend, and has often been called the nicest guy in rock. 

Even if you aren’t a die-hard Foo Fighters fan, I highly recommend giving The Storyteller a read. Even though  I am a fan, this is one of the best memoirs I’ve read.

Book Review: Out Into the Big Wide Lake by Paul Harbridge and Josée Bisaillon

By Kaylie Seed

Paul Harbridge wanted to write a children’s story that focused on bravery, confidence, independence, and empowerment for young children. Out Into the Big Wide Lake does just that. Based on Paul’s real-life sister, the main character Kate has Down syndrome but that does not stop her from being the independent, feisty, smart, and lovable character that she is. In fact, you would only know that Kate has Down syndrome from reading the synopsis for Out Into the Big Wide Lake and I believe that this was done intentionally. Kate is more than her Down syndrome and it clearly shows as this story progresses.

In the beginning we see Kate going to stay with her grandparents for the summer, where she helps her grandpa out by going on grocery runs for people who live on the lake. Kate is nervous about getting to help but quickly takes on the challenge. With the lovable dog Parbuckle by her side, Kate learns she can do anything she puts her mind to. When Kate’s grandpa gets sick one day, it’s up to Kate to do the deliveries all on her own, and she does it with ease. Harbridge never mentions to the reader that Kate has Down syndrome because that is only a small part of who she is; it is not meant to be focused on. Instead, the reader sees a brave, smart, and determined young girl willing to take on new challenges, something that young readers will admire.

The pages in Out Into the Big Wide Lake are thick, glossy, and colourful, which helps enhance the reading experience. Bisaillon captures Harbridge’s words in beautiful illustrations that are bound to draw young readers in to the story. I would say that this is a great story to read to children ages 5–7 who are learning what it means to be independent and brave.

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

Book Review: This Is How We Love by Lisa Moore

By Larissa Page

Content warnings: drug use/abuse, domestic violence, late miscarriage/fetal death, child neglect 

St. John’s is experiencing the storm of the century. And as it’s buried almost completely in snow, Jules’ son Xavier fights for his life after being stabbed at a party. Having received the call while in Mexico and having to rush home, Jules gets the only seat left, leaving her husband Joe to find another flight while she deals with the hospital, Xavier’s struggle to fight infection, and the snowstorm alone. This Is How We Love takes us back through instances in the lives of Jules, of Xavier, of Trinity, and briefly of a few other characters, all of which, in some way or another, lead to the events of the present day. 

I really loved this book. And it surprised me as well as it is not simply a story of a mother’s love for her son as he fights for his life. Within the story and the reflections throughout, there are countless examples of love, whether familial, romantic, friendship, etc. There is heavy emphasis on parental love being possible and vital without blood relation, in terms of stepparents, foster parents, and also accepting, loving, and caring for the kid across the street who needs that love. There is also love between childhood friends who become like family even when you don’t want them to be—wishing you didn’t have the connection that is there regardless; the love that is there even if you resent it.  

This book is based on relationships. As each of the characters develop throughout the story, we are shown their development in relation to the other characters in the book. Jules develops in relation to her son and her mother-in-law Florence in most cases. Xavier develops in relation to his mother, Trinity, and his girlfriend Violet, and Trinity develops in terms of Mary, her mother, and Murph. The ways in which they interact, feel about, and act with love for each other are how we are shown their character development. I don’t know if I’ve experienced a book quite like this before.

The timeline of this story is mostly reflective. It is not linear with the present day being post stabbing and during the snowstorm, but much of the story is told from various points in the past. If you are a reader that prefers a linear story, consider that before picking this one up. It is worth it, but awareness of the storyline moving back and forth in time, including in the middle of a section happening in the present as the character reminisces or remembers, will assist in the reading experience.

The most important thing about this novel is the dialogue on love; how we don’t necessarily get to choose who we love or how we love, how love can develop, and how it can absolutely tie us together for life. The text and writing are beautiful, creating interactions that feel real and true. I feel more reflective on my own life and my own relationships for having read this.

Please note that this title goes on sale May 3, 2022! Thank you, House of Anansi, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Gender Swapped Fairy Tales by Karrie Fransman and Jonathan Plackett

By Shantell Powell

Gender Swapped Fairy Tales is exactly what it sounds like. The stories are culled from Andrew Lang’s Fairy Books, an anthology series published for children between 1889 and 1913. Aside from the gender swapping, the stories are virtually identical to their predecessors. These stories are familiar to most folks in the western hemisphere and include such classics as “Jacqueline and the Beanstalk,” “Gretel and Hansel,” “Mr. Rapunzel,” and “Frau Rumpelstiltzkin.” 

A few spurious claims are made in the authors’ notes. According to Karrie Fransman, Lang’s Fairy Books “collected the very best tales from all over the world.” This is not true: there are at least a couple of continents’ worth of nations and cultures whose folktales were not considered for inclusion. The stories within are primarily European in origin. I also take umbrage with the statement, “most cultures divide gender into ‘feminine’ and ‘masculine.’”  Gender does not work this way for many non-Western cultures.  For example, in the Anishinaabemowin language, the genders are not male and female, but animate, inanimate, and sacred. The authors describe nonbinary genders as a strictly modern phenomenon, and in doing so, demonstrate a colonial bias.

That being said, it’s interesting to read these European fairy tales with their strong male/female binary flipped. The gender-swapping of the stories was achieved by means of an algorithm programmed by creative technologist Jonathan Plackett. Lang’s text (which is in the public domain) was fed into the program, and with a bit of tinkering to change dresses to suits and Jacks to Jacquelines, was published without being otherwise rewritten.  Unfortunately, the book reads like a rush job. There are a few spots where the gender-swapping is incomplete and the sentences do not make sense. Take, for example, an exchange in Handsome and the Beast which goes as follows:

However, as she did not seem at all ferocious, and only said gruffly: 

“Good evening, Handsome,” he answered cheerfully and managed to conceal his terror. Then the Beast asked him how he had been amusing himself, and he told her all the rooms he had seen.

I read this several times and am still confused as to who is saying “Good evening, Handsome.” Is there a missing sentence? There are both a she and a he saying it, and nonbinary characters do not make an appearance in any of the stories….or do they?

In Jacqueline and the Beanstalk, a nonbinary cow makes an appearance. For whatever reason, instead of swapping in a bull for the cow, the cow is instead referred to as “he.” I also noted typographical errors, including hyphenated words which should not be hyphenated, likely hold-outs from copied-and-pasted text.  

Despite these problems, the illustrations and design work are top notch. The typeface is easy to read, and the layout is spacious and clean. The watercolour illustrations by Karrie Fransman have a bright and modern palette yet retain the timeless quality of the fairy tales.  It is unfortunate that more care was not taken with the proofreading and editing, because the book itself is a thing of beauty.

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

Book Review: A Womb in the Shape of a Heart by Joanne Gallant

By Kaylie Seed

Content warning: multiple miscarriages, infertility, premature birth, graphic descriptions

Reviewing a memoir as intimate and vulnerable as A Womb in the Shape of a Heart is not an easy task. Joanne Gallant put her life out into the world for others to read and that is something that I commend wholeheartedly, especially when it is about a topic that can be seen as taboo and hush-hush. According to the Public Health Agency of Canada, approximately 16% (or 1 in 6) couples in Canada experience infertility, and yet infertility is something that we choose not to discuss. In its place we teach youth that intercourse always results in a baby; oh, how wrong this narrative is.

Gallant has chronicled her journey with infertility—which included multiple miscarriages, various diagnoses, and ultimately a son whom she loves with every fibre of her being. A Womb in the Shape of a Heart is raw, vulnerable, emotional, and real. Gallant takes her own story and makes it something that others who have struggled with infertility and experienced miscarriages will find solace in. By putting her story out into the world, Gallant is attempting to normalize infertility and its struggles, and she does this well. Gallant puts everything on display in A Womb in the Shape of a Heart by going into extensive detail of the emotions and physical feelings she felt throughout this journey.

Gallant’s prose flows smoothly, making this memoir one where the reader feels as if they are right beside her through every moment. Gallant is unafraid to dig into the gritty details and to evoke a reaction from the reader. These raw and emotional parts of A Womb in the Shape of a Heart are meant to make the reader feel uncomfortable because infertility is a fact of life we don’t often get a glimpse into. A Womb in the Shape of a Heartis not an easy read but it is a necessary read that can help break down the stigma that, sadly, surrounds infertility. Gallant clearly set out to make an impact and an impact she made. I hope to see more of her writing in the future and I thank her for putting her journey out into the world; she is helping more people than she knows.

Thank you to Nimbus Publishing for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review. 

Kaylie’s Recommended Resources:

https://www.ontarioprenataleducation.ca/infant-loss/

https://junofertility.com/infertility-facts-numbers/

Book Review: Journey to the Heart of the Abyss by London Shah

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warning: violence, gore, racially motivated hate crimes, government propaganda 

Journey to the Heart of the Abyss by London Shah is the conclusion to the Light the Abyss duology. In a world that has been completely flooded by an apocalyptic event, what remains of humanity lives beneath the water, travelling in submarines and waiting for the day it will be safe to return to the surface. Leyla McQueen, however, has far more pressing concerns. 

After her father is arrested for a crime she knows he didn’t commit, she enters an underwater race in the hopes of winning his freedom, and then begins a journey out of London and across the open ocean to save him. Her only companions are her adorable dog Jojo, and Ari, a brooding boy with a secret. To save her father, Leyla will have to face her fears of the deep and the threat that lurks there—the most dangerous of all the anthropoids, humans with the ability to breathe underwater who seem hell-bent on destroying humanity. Or at least, that’s what everyone thinks. 

Journey to the Heart of the Abyss begins a month after the first book in the duology (The Light at the Bottom of the World) finishes, and while I won’t spoil the first book, the stakes only get higher, the threats of the deep more dangerous, and the fight more desperate. This duology’s focus is exploring the good that people have inside them while also dismantling the risks we face—even in a contemporary world—that allow us to become complicit in cruelty. The role of government, propaganda, passivity, prejudice, and more are all examined here through Leyla’s eyes as she learns to confront not just the prejudices around her, but her own beliefs and practices that cause harm. Leyla’s journey pushes her, and by extension us as readers, to grow and become better people; these books force us to confront our own complicity when it comes to the world around us and encourage us to be brave enough to fight for change. 

Light the Abyss is an exceptional young adult sci-fi duology with a vivid, immersive, and unique world, compelling characters, a fast-paced plot, and lots of twists and turns. Even without the greater social commentaries at play, this book is a fun ride about adventure through deep and dangerous waters, and for that alone I would recommend it. It feels like a series made for adaptation. The rich, diverse underwater settings are described vividly and would be stunning to see on the big screen, and it would be interesting to see the submarine and all the other technology in this series brought to life. 

Something to note is that Leyla and her father are Muslim. It was really refreshing to see Leyla practicing her faith while kicking ass and fighting off sea monsters, and I think that these books are a great example of the ways that inclusivity and diversity can be found in sci-fi and fantasy series that allow a broader range of readers to see themselves in the genres. 

As I’ve already discussed, this book goes beyond just storytelling; in fact, Journey to the Heart of the Abyss has a teaching guide at the back of the book with thoughtful questions allowing discussion on the role of government, prejudice, othering, and more. This book is a clear commentary on the current world, both with the threats of climate change that could lead to the types of catastrophic events that forced Leyla’s people under the water, as well as the fears, prejudices, and hate that are all too prevalent in our world. But despite that, this book is full of hope and is a powerful tool for teens to discover the right ways to fight for what they believe in.

I would definitely recommend this book for any fans of young adult sci-fi and fantasy, and especially for those teens who are perhaps fearing for the state of our world and wondering how they can make a difference. Leyla is the type of role model they need. 

Please note that Meghan was given a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Letters Across the Sea by Genevieve Graham

By Hayley Platt

Letters Across the Sea is a Canadian historical fiction novel that starts out in 1933 and follows main characters, Molly and Max, through World War 2. Early in the book—summer 1933—it depicts a fairly unknown protest that occurred in Toronto’s Christie Pits and how unrest in the city grew leading into the war.

Molly Ryan is the middle child of five in an Irish Protestant family. She is their only daughter and has had to drop out of high school early to help support her family through the Depression.  Molly has big dreams to become a journalist but is stuck working any job she can find. Max Dreyfus, a Jewish boy, whose sister Hannah is Molly’s best friend, is going away to study to become a doctor at the end of the summer. He can’t stop thinking about Molly and what he wishes their relationship could be. Before he can leave, the conflict between their two communities comes to a head, and conflict between their families ends all possibility of their relationship.

The story then moves forward to 1939 when Max has been deployed with Canada’s Royal Rifles and Molly is working at The Star, a Toronto newspaper. She spends her days at work reporting about the war and time at home sending and receiving letters from her brothers overseas.

Letters Across the Sea is written from both Molly and Max’s perspectives.  When the book begins, Molly is eighteen and we follow her life for more than a decade as she navigates the changes in the world around her from the Great Depression through the war. She is challenged by the hatred she encounters towards Jews in Canada but is put in a difficult position trying to speak up against her family, and in support of her oldest friend’s family, the Dreyfus’.   

As a Canadian author, Genevieve Graham has done a great job finding a small piece of Canadian history and masterfully weaves it into this engrossing World War 2 historical fiction novel. It ties an event in Toronto to many of the more well-known events of the era. Readers are given a glimpse at how events all across the battlefronts of World War 2 could be connected into one family at home. 

After reading this novel, I was pleased to find maps and photographs included in the note to readers that confirms what aspects of the novel come from fact and which were a product of the author’s writing.

All historical fiction fans as well as anyone looking to learn more about Canada’s history, what it was like in Toronto during the Depression and how Canadian troops were deployed in Europe will appreciate this book.  

Book Review: The House Next Door by Claudine Crangle

By Christine McFaul

The House Next Door is a lovely new picture book (ages 3 - 6) by Canadian author/illustrator, Claudine Crangle.

“All alone, in an open field stood a house…”

For many years, a sturdy little house has stood in its field, stoically weathering the changing seasons, a harsh environment, and all manner of storms. But one day, change blows in the wind. 

First, the little house notices several new buildings in the distance. Then, a road cuts through his field. Finally, more and more houses surround him. Nervous about these changes, the little house pulls in his shutters and bolts them tight.

Time passes but even in the shuttered dark, change continues. The little house notices he no longer feels pushed by snowdrifts or battered by storms and that those changes are not necessarily bad. Braced by this realization, the little house risks a quick peep through one of his shutters… and spots a house with a friendly curtain waving at him. It has a golden light glowing in its window, just like his. Having found this piece of common ground, the little house slowly opens himself back up to the new world around him. He is no longer alone but enveloped within a neighbourhood of houses: “big and small, beautiful, strange, solid, cobbled, high, low, narrow, wide, elegant, and fascinating.” They all wait together for what changes the wind might blow in next. 

Crangle’s writing is charming and full of fun wordplay. The story is perfectly paced to give little house (and little readers!) a chance to explore and adjust to all the introduced changes. Taking its time to move from resistance to acceptance, gives the story a calming and hopeful effect—perfect for any readers who may be navigating changes in their own lives.

Crangle is a multimedia artist from Toronto and uses cardboard, paint, and fabric to create the vibrant illustrations in this book. They are as clever as her writing and strike a wonderful balance between presenting readers with interesting things to look at while always communicating the little house’s emotional journey. Two of my favourite spreads were one that shows an artistically rendered site plan and another that meanders alongside a street view of the little house’s new neighbourhood. Throughout the story, Crangle’s beautiful use of light and shadow mirrors the little house’s evolution from lonely and shuttered to open and accepting of change.

With a gentle touch, Crangle explores the themes of change, acceptance, and celebrating difference. The personification of the little house is perfectly rendered in words and pictures creating an endearing and relatable character. A beautiful book!

Thank you, Groundwood Books, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Detachment by Maurice Mierau

By Christina McLaurine

Detachment: An Adoption Memoir, winner of the 2016 Kobzar Literary Award, is about family, trauma, history, and healing. Mireau and his wife Betsy adopt two little boys from Ukraine. Upon their return to Winnipeg, Mireau is confronted with the challenges of building familial bonds and helping his children, Peter and Bohdan, adjust to their new life in a new country. This adjustment period is filled with trials and tribulations that puts a strain on Betsy and Mireau’s marriage. In an effort to understand his sons better, Mireau turns to his family history. His emotionally distant father, who was also born in Ukraine, has a traumatic past. Maybe, if he can better understand his father’s painful and traumatic childhood, he can be a better father and better understand his sons.  

Mireau gives readers the opportunity to see the displeasing side of overseas adoption. From the inscrutable bureaucratic adoption process and strain that it can put on a marriage, to the paltry living conditions in the orphanages. Not to mention the challenges of bonding as a family once the process is complete. While the book is about Mireau, Peter and his struggle to adjust commands the reader’s attention and becomes a focal point of the narrative. Their hearts will break as Mireau recounts Peter’s struggle to reconcile being left at the orphanage by his birth mother and trusting his new adoptive parents.  

It’s obvious Maurice loves his family, but between being a writer, husband, and parent, he’s having a hard time. Mireau is candid about these struggles and how it affects the relationships he has with everyone around him. It’s impossible not to empathize with Mireau and Peter as they try to navigate through this season of change and pain. As Mireau reflects on the ways his father’s trauma affected him and their relationship, he uses it as a catalyst to ensure the same doesn’t happen with his son’s trauma. 

Detachment: An Adoption Memoir is a gripping, heart-wrenching read that tells an unforgettable story about the strength and resilience of family. 

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

Book Review: The Winter Wives by Linden MacIntyre

By Robyn Rossit

Content Warning: child abuse, death of a parent, assisted suicide

Linden MacIntyre’s drama, The Winter Wives, tells the story of college friends Byron and Allan. While they became lifelong friends, they could not be more different. Allan is a star football player who is well travelled and chasing his dreams of being financially successful, whereas Byron is a quiet man who, after graduating, opted to practice law in his small town so that he could take care of his mother who has Alzheimer's. The two marry the Winter sisters—Peggy and Annie. Years later, a night of drinking reveals that Byron loved Peggy first, and he ended up settling with Annie when they were young. The next morning, Allan suffers a stroke on the golf course, and the empire he has built starts to come crashing down little by little. Built on the drug trade and other lies, Byron must make sense of not only Allan's shady business and his relationship with the Winter sisters but also his own life.

While the premise of the book sounded very exciting, The Winter Wives, unfortunately, fell a bit flat for me. While Byron was a likeable enough character, I didn't find myself that invested in his story. I did, however, enjoy his interactions with the Winter sisters, particularly his memories of his younger years with Peggy. While the book did lose me a bit in the middle, I found the conclusion of Byron's story satisfying.  

I really loved the setting of the book—set in both small-town Nova Scotia, and at times, in Toronto. There is just something about stories set in Canada that feels so special to me. I always have an easier time imagining the setting, even if it is set in a place I haven't travelled to yet. My desire to travel to the east coast has increased after reading The Winter Wives.

While The Winter Wives wasn't a book that was for me, I do think there is an audience for it. It is a slow burn with characters,  all very much flawed in their own way, untangling the shady business they have become part of. I just don't think I would classify it as a psychological thriller as it was marketed. In doing research for this review, I learned that Linden MacIntyre is a retired journalist, and based on his way with words, that is very clear. While I didn't connect with the story, it was very well written. 

Book Review: The Warriors by Sol Yurick

By Dahl Botterill

content warning: youth violence, sexual violence, rape

Sol Yurick's The Warriors is not a complex book, but it is at times a difficult read. A modern retelling of Xenophon's Anabasis, the novel follows members of a youth gang called the Dominators making their way across New York City. They make this journey twice. The first time is under the watchful eye of their leader, Papa Arnold, as they journey to an all-gang Grand Assembly at Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx. This trek occurs under truce, as each gang sends representatives to the Assembly. When the Grand Assembly devolves into chaos and violence, the boys are forced to undertake the return journey to Coney Island without their leader, through traditionally hostile territory with no expectation that any truce will still be respected.

The titular warriors are not good people. They are violent, aggressive individuals obsessed with maintaining reputations based on strength, sexuality, and a lack of any real empathy. They are also children. The oldest is still a minor merely approaching adulthood, and the youngest carries a comic book around with him that he loves because the illustrations mean that he can enjoy the book despite the fact he hasn't yet learned to read. This is part of what makes it a difficult read. All of these characters are boys that have been forced to 'grow up' too quickly, and 'growing up' in their environment is a largely negative development. They don't really mature as humans so much as they calcify into toxic men. Their lives are hard, and these kids survive and belong by devoting themselves to each other, but they bond through activities like assault, murder, and rape. The Warriors is a good book and an eye-opening experience, but it can be a very rough read sometimes, and will definitely not be for everybody.

First published in 1965, The Warriors was no doubt just as, if not more so, shocking for readers at the time, but I found it a particularly interesting read in an era that's put a name to toxic masculinity and similar concepts. The Dominators is a youth gang filled with boys masquerading as men, but the 'masculine' traits they've focused their attention on are a motley amalgam of comic and tragic. Being able to urinate the furthest is as much a badge of honour as being the strongest fighter or the most stoic and unfeeling. At one point, they challenge each other to stick their heads out the subway window to determine "the Man With The Most Heart"; the winner—and most manly—is the one who gets their head so close to the tunnel walls that his short hair is scraped, broken, and tinged gray by the walls.

The Warriors isn't all cruelty and mayhem. While much of the book focuses on the Dominators' actions, it occasionally provides glimpses into how one of the boys, Hinton, feels about everything he's involved in. He's conflicted at times, often uncomfortable, but he also doesn't really see any other options open to him. These are the people that have given him a place to belong, and whether it's a great place to be or not, it's what he's got. He is a child with little hope, and only one path that's openly visible to him. As much as the book tells a tale of violence and the pursuit of reputation, The Warriors is also a terribly sad book. 

Book Review: The Most Precious Substance on Earth by Shashi Bhat

By Carmen Lebar

Content Warning: rape, substance abuse, eating disorders, death

The Most Precious Substance on Earth by Shashi Bhat is a brilliant debut coming-of-age novel that centres on Nina—the sole daughter of Indian parents living in Halifax in the 90s. Nina is full of life, excitement, and imagination at the inception of the novel. However, things become dark after Nina experiences something horrendous, which then creates a domino effect of events in her life. Her friend Amy starts to drift away from her, and Nina’s future after high school becomes uncertain. This is a novel that touches upon the ups and downs of millennial life, and the true hardships many have faced growing up in the turn-of-the-century.

Bhat eloquently writes how millennial life has affected Nina while growing up. The novel starts with Nina in grade nine, then subsequently documents her life throughout high school, grad school, and her career. Within these chapters, we see Nina get lost within the changing times, but also within herself. From Nina’s romantic relationships to her career,  life is anything but ideal. She struggles in many ways that millennials have, and still are, struggling. Many authors try to capture the elder millennial experience, but none have come close to pinpoint accuracy as Bhat. I find Nina to be relatable without being a caricature as she navigates her life the best she can, even with all the things that constrain and silence her. 

Nina is constantly struggling to find her voice throughout this novel. I find Bhat’s theme of silence and isolation brilliantly juxtaposed with her depiction of Nina’s millennial life. Since Nina is lost and unsure of herself, she is often silent and isolates herself from others, whether that be with her dates, friends, or her family. Her silence begins when she goes through something horrific. Nina doesn’t know how to handle what she went through, and instead of confiding in those closest to her at the time, she buries it deep inside herself. I think Nina has a realistic reaction to going through something traumatic. Although Nina is silent and isolated for the majority of the novel, she still has the fight to keep going.

Shashi Bhat’s debut novel is simultaneously funny and heartbreaking. Bhat developed Nina’s character so well that her character came to life on the page. Reading this novel as someone born in the last millennial year, I can’t see myself reflected in the novel completely. However, I see my contemporaries and family members represented in vivid colour throughout the novel’s pages. I do wish that Bhat included chapters about Nina’s undergrad life instead of jumping ahead in time to her graduate studies. I feel like these years would have been a pivotal insight into Nina’s character and would have created a better overall picture of who she is as an adult. The Most Precious Substance on Earth is a story for millennials who still haven’t figured it all out, and want to feel less alone. It’s a perfect coming-of-age story that will make you value your voice, and realize that you’re not alone in this world. 

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: Metaflesh by Evan J. Peterson

By Shantell Powell

Content Warning: sexual content, body horror, white supremacist iconography, swear words 

Metaflesh is written by Evan J. Peterson, author of The PrEP Diaries: A Safe(r) Sex Memoir and DragStar!,  the world’s first drag performer role-playing game. Metaflesh is a book of verse and prose from the point of view of Frankenstein’s Monster. The reflections are inspired not only by Mary Shelley’s seminal work (double entendre fully intended) but also by the pop culture descendants of her novel. Sources include a wide variety of Frankenstein/mad scientist movies and song lyrics. The book also contains themes of Jewish folklore, queer culture, camp, and a lot of David Cronenberg-style body horror. The book covers the gamut of the Monster’s experiences through over a century of movies and songs, and portrays the Monster as both gender-fluid and a sort of chimerical film critic, reviewing portrayals of their self through lyric poetry and flash fiction.

This is an ingenious book of metafiction. Just as Dr. Frankenstein cut up different people and stitched the bits together, Peterson cut up and reassembled his sources, turning them into something greater than the sum of their parts. Borrowing from William S. Burroughs cut-up technique, he splices together Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein with F.T. Marinetti’s Manifesto del Futurismo (Futurist Manifesto) and with J. G. Ballard’s essay, “Why I want to F*ck Ronald Reagan.” He apostrophizes the sexually explicit films of avant-garde queer Canadian creator Bruce LaBruce and doesn’t forget to include General Mills’ Frankenberry breakfast cereal or select lines from Mommy Dearest and The Rocky Horror Picture Show.  The combined imagery of classical Greek mythology, white supremacy, drag queens, Judaism, and zombie erotica do not merge into a hot mess but meld together into a deliciously readable book.   

This literary retrospective is sad, funny, quirky, surgically precise, and captivating. I was never bored and didn’t skip through parts. I tore through my first reading at speed and have been taking my time through subsequent readings. The only spot which slows me down, pulling me to a frowning halt, is a simile in the poem, “His Name is In Me”:  “gross as the tallest savage.” Although I’m aware that white supremacist imagery is intentionally used throughout the book—punching up, not down—the use of the word “savage” feels out of place here. It is a racial slur used against Black and Indigenous peoples and stands out awkwardly in a poem strongly based in Judaic imagery. If it is a slur used against Jews, I am unaware, but this is my only quibble with the entire book.

I’d like to thank Evan Peterson for sending me a copy in exchange for an honest review.  This is my favourite book of poetry that I’ve read in the past few years.

Book Review: A Sure Cure for Witchcraft by Laura Best

By Kaylie Seed

A Sure Cure for Witchcraft is a middle-grade novel that is bound to capture your heart from the very beginning. In present-day New Germany, Nova Scotia, five-year-old Lilly begins to tell stories that her mother believes are from an overactive imagination but Lilly insists that these are memories from before—a life that she once lived. The stories stop, but as Lilly grows up, she begins to have vivid dreams she’s convinced she has seen before…

In Württemberg Germany during the mid-1700s, Lilli finds herself training under Alisz to become a healer and midwife despite the disapproval of her vater (father). The bond that Lilli and Alisz share is one that will survive centuries because that’s what happens to soul-friends.

A Sure Cure for Witchcraft is a tale of friendship, love, and finding the strength to be yourself even if it makes others unhappy because, in the end, it is your happiness that matters. Best weaves together past and present to create a story about the power of friendship and soulmates. While stories like this have been written before, there was something about A Sure Cure for Witchcraft that pulled at the heartstrings. Best managed to fill the story of Lilli and Alisz with emotion that is bound to make anyone root for this friendship to hold up over centuries. I know that when I was in high school, I yearned for stories like this—one that's filled with so much adoration and love that I felt cherished and loved.

A book that can be finished in a day, A Sure Cure for Witchcraft is a story for anyone who is looking for a tale about the trials of friendship and the love that goes with it. Best has written a novel that can be enjoyed by both young and old readers alike and is likely to make you smile and feel loved. Best’s prose was smooth, and even though there were two plots happening simultaneously, Best manages to keep them separate while weaving them together seamlessly. I cannot wait to see what Best does next!

Thank you, Nimbus Publishing, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: An Embarrassment of Critch's by Mark Critch

By Larissa Page

Picking up on his life shortly after his first book Son of a Critch ends, Mark Critch, Canadian comedian and cast member of the satirical Canadian news show This Hour Has 22 Minutes, gives us An Embarrassment of Critch’s. He describes this as “Immature Stories from my Grown-Up Life,” and it really is exactly that. 

Son of a Critch is one of my favourite audiobooks, so when I saw that this sequel was being released, I knew I needed to listen to it as well. Critch returns to deliver us a very similar comedic memoir to his first but this time he focuses on his early adulthood through to the present day. 

After graduating high school, he decides that he wants to be an actor (to which his father of course responds, “Good God”) and manages to luck out by getting a job in Trinity, a tiny Newfoundland town a few hours from where he grew up. From Trinity he works his way through some years of acting and unemployment until the next job comes along and he finally gets his big break writing—and eventually becoming the roving reporter—for This Hour has 22 Minutes.

Critch recounts his many trips to surprise, interview, embarrass, satirize, and do sketches with various politicians (Canadian and American), and the different situations they lead him to. From trying to do a phoney interview with Bono, to planting a Canadian flag in the Red Square in Russia, to doing a performance during a rocket attack in Afghanistan, Critch conveys all the stories he has with hilarity. 

I truly enjoyed listening to this audiobook. I think I still enjoyed Son of a Critch more (simply because I enjoyed the childhood stories), but I found this follow-up equally hilarious, deeper than comedic memoirs sometimes are (giving us more of a look inside Critch’s life), and very well written and narrated. I laughed out loud a few times at his jokes and at imagining some of the situations he got himself into. 

The pairing of Son of a Critch and An Embarrassment of Critch’s is so good, especially for east coast Canadians who might relate to stories about Newfoundland. Anyone who enjoys political satire will appreciate the backstories Critch tells about the sketches and interviews he’s done, as they get an inside look at how politicians act behind the camera. Both of these memoirs are worth your time and your laughter.

Book Review: Hana Khan Carries On by Uzma Jalaluddin

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warning: racism, hate speech, Islamophobia

Hana Khan Carries On follows 24-year-old Hana as the world around her begins to turn upside down: the biggest fan of her anonymous podcast seems to want something more; her internship is almost over and her boss expects her to compromise her values to get ahead; there are complications to her sister’s pregnancy; and the family business, which supports all of them, is floundering. To make matters worse, an occasionally charming man and his never charming father have decided to open up a new halal restaurant directly across from her family’s. When it feels like everything is on the cusp of changing, Hana turns to her podcast, and to the stories she values to give her strength and see her through. 

This book is an incredible contemporary story of family, growth, and identity. Set in Toronto, it shines a light on the prejudices and racism that too many Canadians turn a blind eye to, and is equal parts informative, exposing, and hopeful as it engages with Hana’s experience as a hijab-wearing Muslim woman seeking to find her place in the world.

Hana’s personal journey is incredibly compelling. Twenty-four years old, on the edge of having to make real, long-lasting decisions about her future at a time when all the constants in her life are changing. Her story is both sympathetic and inspiring, and her voice is strong, casual, and clever as she narrates not only her podcast but her own story. Her family is fleshed out and real, each character leaping off the page, and it feels like we see them through Hana’s eyes. Likewise, all of Hana’s experiences are visceral and immersive; the reader seems to stand beside her as she travels through her life and its challenges. In truth, while this novel contains sections of Hana’s podcast, in which she speaks on issues of identity, independence, family secrets, and even the infinite cosmos, this whole novel really feels like Hana is talking to us, and I commend Jalaluddin for the rich vibrancy of Hana’s voice in this novel. 

This book weaves several different plot threads together into one single narrative. Hana’s career in radio, her family and friends’ changing dynamics, the failing restaurant, the community she loves and the risks it faces, the real experiences of life as a Muslim in Canada, and her tumultuous relationships with both her podcast friend and her restaurant rival are all woven together into a single story, and the plot felt very grounded. There were times where it really felt like I was listening to Hana’s podcast, with her telling me stories about her life, rather than reading her fictional narrative in a novel. While some of the plotlines had some stereotypical components, particularly the romance plot, this book is about more than any one storyline, and in that, I feel like it thrives. 

Hana Khan Carries On is a genre-defying novel that, at its heart, is about Hana—a complicated young woman growing into herself. It was a genuine pleasure to read her story, and I feel like my world has been expanded in reading it. If you’re a fan of contemporary, coming of age stories about strong women, the power of family, and hope, with a healthy dose of romance, this is definitely a book worth reading. 

Book Review: Apples Never Fall by Liane Moriarty

By Melissa Barbuzzi

Apples Never Fall is all about the Delany family, the parents, Stan and Joy, and their four children. After fifty years of marriage and all of their children leaving the nest, Stan and Joy decide to sell their tennis academy and start the golden years of their life. But things take a turn for the worse, and what Stan and Joy thought would be the best years of their life, quickly become the most miserable.

After an unexpected visitor shows up at their door, things seem to be turning back around. But suddenly Joy goes missing and the Delaney siblings face a hard dilemma: do they tell the police even though their father is the most obvious suspect?

I really enjoyed this book, but I’ll start by saying it was more of a mystery/family drama than a thriller. The plot was very fun to read and kept me engaged and questioning what was going to happen throughout. The mix of family drama and mystery was super entertaining which resulted in me not being able to put the book down!

The characters were all great. They were all described in such detail that they felt real, which helped tie everything together for me. The siblings also had a very raw dynamic that felt realistic, and I really enjoyed. I will say, though, that I did have a tough time remembering who each sibling was. They were all so different but also had so many similarities that it got confusing keeping track of all their details.

On to things I didn’t love about the book. I do think the ending was dragged out. The big “finale” happened and then there were still multiple chapters that didn’t add anything to the plot. There was also a chapter that unexpectedly was all about COVID, which felt completely out of place and like it was just thrown in at the last minute.

As mentioned earlier, I did go into this thinking it was going to be more of a thriller, which it was not at all. I’m not sure if this is a regular Liane Moriarty thing, or if Apples Never Fall just came off differently than expected. Nevertheless, I still really enjoyed the family drama/mystery and wasn’t overly upset that it was less thrilling than expected.

I haven’t read any of Liane Moriarty’s other books, but Apples Never Fall has motivated me to read more by her! There is such a huge buzz around her books and the TV adaptations of her books, so I will definitely be reading more by her soon. If you haven’t read Apples Never Fall yet, I recommend it!

Book Review: Six Crimson Cranes by Elizabeth Lim

By Megan Amato

Content warning: abuse

Some authors are gifted with the ability to paint with words, and after I read Elizabeth Lim’s The Blood of the Stars Duology, I knew she was one of those beloved writers. Six Crimson Cranes is no exception. There is a soft dreaminess to the storytelling—as if made with an Impressionist’s brush—that is used to reconstruct, reshape, and transform Hans Christian Anderson’s fairytale into its own story full of immersive sensory details and lush prose. 

After Princess Shiori’s forbidden magic causes her to miss her betrothal ceremony, her father orders her to embroider a tapestry in apology under the eye of her cold stepmother, Raikama. After witnessing her stepmother’s terrifying magic, Shiori runs to inform her brothers, but before they can warn their father, Raikama stops them. She turns the brothers into cranes and banishes Shiori with a bowl permanently covering her face and a warning that for every word she speaks, one of her brothers will die. Lost and alone, far away from home and unable to prove her identity, Shiori sets out to find her brothers, break their curse, and save her empire. She will have to climb a mountain, outwit an angry dragon, and sew a magical net until her fingers bleed to outwit her enemies and save her family and home—all with the help of the betrothed she never thought she wanted.

There were so many small elements of this novel that I loved, from her brothers’ distinct personalities to the adorable and mischievous dragon who got Shiori into and out of all kinds of trouble, to the paper origami bird she magicked to life and who meant so much to her. Shiori’s relationship with each of these characters is beautiful to read, but it’s the slow burn romance with her kind-hearted betrothed Takkan that is breathtaking to behold. Lim proves that swoon-worthy heroes shouldn’t and don’t come from the patriarchy-prescribed cookie cutouts of hard, possessive men who take what they want, but in the sweet, unwavering loyalty of someone who will lend strength when needed but let our heroine grow, build, and act on her own well of courage and agency.

Despite my warm, fuzzy feelings, Shiori’s character growth was just as, if not more, compelling as the romance. She starts the novel as a spoiled, pampered princess and while good intentioned, she is naïve and sheltered by her father and brothers. When she is banished without the ability to make a sound, she must earn her own keep and learns just how vulnerable those who aren’t given a voice are—literally and figuratively. Once she discovers the plot against her father and realizes it's not only her family that is endangered, her plans shift and change. With the consequences and results of her actions, she begins to understand the responsibility of the power she holds both with her magic and as a princess. As she faces the constant hardship of those who aren’t given much agency, she also begins to understand that not everyone is as one-dimensional as they are painted to be—even her stepmother. 

After writing this review, my only wish is to now go back and reread this book—whew. Sometimes a book is just vibes and no plot, and while I’m not averse to those books, Lim has managed to make a book with both vibes and a stunning plot. Buy yourself this book for the cover (the UK version if you can), and keep it for the magical story within.