Book Review: Hunting by Stars by Cherie Dimaline

By Larissa Page

Hunting by Stars is Cherie Dimaline’s long-awaited and long-requested follow up to her hit The Marrow Thieves. Despite being published four years after The Marrow Thieves, Hunting by Stars picks up right where the previous book left off. During the joyful reunion of two of his chosen family members after years apart on the run from the “schools” (which drain Indigenous people of their marrow in order to dream again), French himself is snatched by school Recruiters. He is taken to a school, where he runs into an important person from his past. In an effort to find him again, his girl Rose sets off with a sidekick to trek to one of the schools to help him escape. They face challenges in the woods they never expected to find and have to form new alliances to survive. Meanwhile, the rest of his family works other leads to get him back, leading all of them to new places with new enemies.

The Marrow Thieves swept through awards, reading groups, and schools when it was first released in 2017, and has continued to throughout the past few years. It is no surprise to me at all that Dimaline was often asked for a “what happened next” and felt the need to write a sequel. If you are a fan of The Marrow Thieves, as I am, I think you’ll be very satisfied with Hunting by Stars as the next installment. It gave me more adventure, more glimpses into French’s past, and more insight into his character—a strong young man with fierce loyalty and incredible grit. It gave me more family and more hope and more absolute resilience. It is not light on the suffering, and it is heavy on the heart to think of the ways we treat other humans. The parallels you can draw between this dystopian landscape and our real everyday world right now are stark but also needed.

Dimaline is not one to shy away from the truth in her novels; she is very poignant in her points about the world, society, and more. For this reason, among others, she gives us novels that make us think harder and more critically than we otherwise might, while still giving us characters to root for and stories to get invested in. Her novels, especially The Marrow Thieves and Hunting by Stars, make great discussion books for classes, book clubs, and buddy reads. She gives us a story of a dystopian future landscape that is somehow also a story for right now.

I was absolutely thrilled to get my hands on Hunting by Stars last year and read further into French’s story. I also believe I would have enjoyed the book just as much had I picked it up as a standalone. It is one that is worth your time and, even more so, worth your attention. 

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

Book Review: Refuse edited by Hannah McGregor, Julie Rak, and Erin Wunker

By Sara Hailstone

Content warning: sexual assault

Refuse: CanLit in Ruins, co-edited by Hannah McGregor, Julie Rak, and Erin Wunker, is a compilation of nonfiction and fiction texts writing through the pain and uncomfortable state of CanLit as deemed by contributor Alicia Elliott as a ”raging dumpster fire.” Assertively and unapologetically writing through layers of what it means to ”refuse” the current state of CanLit, this text will be, I assume, included on syllabi and course outlines across Canadian university English departments. With contributions by Zoe Todd, Keith Maillard, Jane Eaton Hamilton, kim goldberg, Tanis MacDonald, Gwen Benaway, Lucia Lorenzi, Alicia Elliott, Sonnet l’Abbé, Marie Carrière, Kai Cheng Thom, Dorothy Ellen Palmer, Natalee Caple & Nikki Reimer, Lorraine York, Chelsea Vowel, Laura Moss, Phoebe Wang, A.H. Reaume, Jennifer Andrews, Kristen Darch & Fazeela Jiwa, Erika Thorkelson, and Joshua Whitehead, Refuse gives space for diverse stances on contemporary CanLit controversies that have arisen since 2016. The text offers anticipation of what will be built and what will grow from the “ruins of” this country’s state of literature.

Refuse, as in, to say “no.” No to the #UBCAccountable letter that essentially created a class war further accentuating the divisions within CanLit as an industry, as an area of academic study, as a history of writing of a settler country that has been exclusive in nature, and as a continued discourse forward into a future of plurality and the end of literary celebrity. No to sexual harassment. No to the Appropriation Prize and no to the debates about Joseph Boyden’s identity claims. These current controversies fix the core of the conversations within the text. 

Refuse also, as in waste, “what wastes our time, and our lives as writers and teachers, is the kind of endorsement of the status quo that we want to see taken out of CanLit.” 

Refuse, lastly, to reconnect and fix “what has been torn apart, evoking the idea that, after something is destroyed, something better can take its place.” There is a desire to dismantle and rebuild from ruin; I wonder if that is fully possible. 

The play on words with Refuse as a title works well creatively and from a space of literary analysis, however, and this feeling extends beyond the perimeters of the text itself, I don’t know if I see CanLit as a raging dumpster fire. I see the fire raging in the crowds of Canada’s publishing industry, but I separate industry from art. The analogy is not creeping into me fully. 

The compilation includes a break within the analysis by Laura Moss: “I pause here to disentangle "CanLit" as a noun synecdoche of all that is broken in the writing industry and the academy from "CanLit" as a short-form term that refers to the history of writing in Canada.” Moss has been teaching CanLit for over twenty years and is an editor of the journal Canadian Literature. Her tone is one I encountered throughout my studies at the University of Guelph in English (2005-2009) and at Trent University in the Public Texts Graduate program (2018-2020), one of a social historical lens of Canadian literature. In studying ”minoritized literatures” I felt my studies were critical in calling me to action to question the bedrock and pillars of discourses in Canada that have been historically and socially racist and exclusive, while appreciating a contemporary and resilient literary thread of experiment, exploration, and reclamation. Like Laura Moss, I refuse to give up on CanLit. I’m grateful my university studies in CanLit do not feel homogenous. 

The compilation strives to leave the reader hopeful for what will grow from the ruins, or ash, of that raging dumpster fire. The necessary conversations have been laid down with an inclusion of voices from social media. I would be inspired for the extension of these conversations in Refuse to move us deeper into the literary and creative. A play of words on the analogy of CanLit as “surviving” could also serve to move us deeper as we have been doing more in this country than getting by and holding on. I am hopeful for more conversation, more analogy, more motif, and more creating. 

Book Review: The Audacity by Katherine Ryan

By Jamie Maletta

Canadian comedian and actress Katherine Ryan dives into book writing with her debut memoir The Audacity. Katherine is best known for her risqué stand-up comedy, as well as her (truly hilarious) show The Duchess, which I shamelessly binge-watched in one evening. Don’t come at me; put the kids to bed and jump into this Netflix original. LOVE. And Katherine, if you happen to come across this review I have one question for you: WHERE IS SEASON TWO? 

Now let’s get to the book! I won’t lie, I had never heard of Katherine Ryan prior to receiving this book from her publisher. (Shame, as I too am from Ontario, and have spent some time in her hometown of Sarnia). I quickly realized I’ve been living under a rock as everyone knows who this woman is. I opened the book with an open mind and no specific idea of what to expect and was not disappointed. She’s hilarious. 

This memoir acts as a how-to guide, based on her life experiences, with each chapter appropriately named “How to Skip Town for Good,” “How to Get Plastic Surgery,” “How to Survive Controversy,” and so on. She recounts her childhood, teenage years, and early adulthood navigating life, and leaving nothing to the imagination. We learn early on that Katherine is unique, stands out, and has a confidence that most of us don’t find until our thirties. She dreams big and gives her all to everything she sets her mind to. From acting in local theatre as a child, to being crowned “Miss Hooters Toronto,” to auditioning in music videos, and finally to taking the stage with her comedy shows. She recounts it all, leaving no cringe-worthy story out and keeping it 100% real. 

A topic she covered that I truly enjoyed was her experience as a woman in comedy, a profession and industry heavily dominated by men. She recounts the struggles, the hoops women are expected to jump through in comparison to their male counterparts, and what it takes to “make it.” I feel that this is a topic so many women can relate to, regardless of their profession, and I loved her approach to and thoughts on the subject. It’s a topic that needs to be talked about more, and I’m glad it was included. 

If you’re conservative in nature, this book may not be your thing. Nothing is off limits, which is something I personally loved about it. It’s funny and raunchy, with no boundaries surrounding the topics discussed. If you can read it for what it is, I think it’s a book that you’ll truly enjoy as a memoir-meets-comedy-meets-how-to! Grab your copy today! 

Thank you so much to Penguin Random House for a complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review! 

Book Review: Step by Deborah Ellis

By Carly Smith

Content warning: death, violence

Step is a collection of short stories by Deborah Ellis. In each story, a child’s eleventh birthday is described. Perhaps catching her audience by surprise, Ellis’s stories do not involve grand celebrations, extraordinary gifts, or heaps of cake. Instead, they depict various scenarios of the everyday lives of children across the world. Although each story presents a unique plot, the protagonists share many similar emotions and thoughts—fear and feelings of anxiousness, wishes of greater independence, humility, and wonder. An eye-opening book for readers of all ages, Ellis’s poignant, empathy-invoking stories are reminiscent of her previous works like Sit and the Breadwinner series. 

Step has ten short stories in total. Ellis’s third story focuses on Dom, a preteen who has received a crystal from his brother for his birthday. The crystal brings him Gregoire, a young man whose life is very different than Dom’s; Gregoire is the victim of child labour, forced into the dangerous and abusive industry of crystal mining in Madagascar. Dom learns about a dark side to these stones that is largely overlooked by the Western world, which hopes to maintain an uncomplicated relationship to their beauty. The fourth story, “Rubber,” chronicles Oma’s journey by boat to Europe to seek refuge from instability in her home country. She is with her parents and brother as she experiences a tumultuous and nerve-wracking voyage across the sea, encountering smugglers, robbers, and unsympathetic passersby along the way. The fifth story looks at Lazlo, a Hungarian boy turning 11, venturing to town with his father, hoping for a fun birthday experience. He is quickly shocked and disappointed when he learns his father is a Nazi and has taken him to his friends in the hopes of convincing Lazlo to become one himself. Standing in the exact spot where those once killed by Nazis stood moments before their death, Lazlo reflects on his father’s choices, his own imminent choices, and humanity. What decision will Lazlo make? 

Each of these ten stories aims to elicit reflection about the readers’ past and future actions in uncertain or defenceless situations. They prompt the book’s audience to consider their empathy towards those with whom they cannot share identical experiences. Thought-provoking and emotion-evoking, Step unveils global issues that many North American youth may not be privy to, and some that they may, in an engaging way. I enjoyed that Ellis wrote from various points of view, sometimes in first person narrative and sometimes in third. I liked being able to make connections between the characters, while also seeing their differences; this set the ground for a smooth transition between stories without causing boredom or predictability. Overall, I recommend this book to a variety of readers, including fans of Ellis’s previous works, middle school students, and adults. 

Thank you to Groundwood Books for a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: The Kingdom of Copper by S. A. Chakraborty

By Samreen Khan

The Kingdom of Copper is the second book in the Daevabad trilogy, and it is mesmerizing. 

Assuming you have already read the first book, you know that it ended in a bloody battle between Prince Alizayd and the dashing warrior Djinn Dara. Jump forward five years to where the second book begins—in which we see an exiled Alizayd, a married Nahri, and an allegedly dead Dara. 

As Nahri is learning how to navigate court politics while being married to Alizayd’s elder brother Muntadhir, we see an exiled Alizayd reluctantly return to Daevabad due to the political machinations of his maternal family. Upon his return, Alizayd is unable to control his outrage at the treatment meted out to the shafit population of Daevabad (who are of mixed human and Djinn heritage). As a result of his outrage, he commits to partnering with Nahri to help fulfill her dreams of opening a magical hospital that would offer treatments to everyone, regardless of their blood status. Meanwhile, in another part of the kingdom, Dara has been returned to his original Daeva body without his consent by Manizeh (she is the long-assumed-dead magical healer) who has been biding her time to return to Daevabad and exact vengeance on King Ghassan. All this culminates in a genocidal attack on the city and palace during the Navasatem celebration, which is the celebration of a new century in the magical world. This wreaks havoc on the magical city of Daevabad and its residents, who ultimately pay the highest price they ever could: the loss of all magic. 

The Kingdom of Copper sets forwards three different character arcs: that of the trapped, restless yet brilliant Nahri; the forever kind, humanitarian Alizayd; and the honourable yet helpless Dara who has been resurrected from the lap of death to be used as a weapon without his consent. Nahri’s character becomes more pragmatic as the book progresses and she learns that her position entrusts her with far greater authority than she could ever bargain for. Alizayd’s character slowly realizes that while his faith keeps him grounded no matter what, the definition of good versus evil isn’t rigid—these two polarities are in fact very fluid. Dara, on the other hand, realizes that consent is of utmost importance when your agency is lost. He also comes to acknowledge that his loyalty to his tribe cannot take precedence over the humanitarian treatment of others. 

This book is much more intense than the previous installment due to its emphasis on different points of view and the parallels it draws in from contemporary world history. You can see the impact of colonial powers overtaking Nahri’s human world while her own world is being ruined by megalomaniacs with whom she plays deadly court politics. Through Alizayd, Chakraborty weaves in the much-needed perspective on the injustices of the magical world—the treatment being meted out to the shafit population is very reminiscent of our world’s refugee crisis. All the while, Dara’s character is a stark reminder of how single-minded devotion to certain leaders or ideologies can cause even the best of intentions to be meaningless. 

Chakraborty not only weaves contemporary political issues into her books’ characters, she also seamlessly imbues the concepts of consent and othering in a rich tapestry of storytelling and worldbuilding. What attracts me the most in this book is that Chakraborty enmeshes her characters completely into their faith, from which they draw strength and solace. This is not a common trait in many books, and it resonates with readers like myself, for whom faith is a source of comfort and resilience. This book is a must-read if you like non-Eurocentric plot lines with complex characters and earth-shattering magical beings. 

Book Review: Beneath the Stairs by Jennifer Fawcett

Erica Wiggins

Content Warning: suicide, murder, miscarriage, abuse, potentially triggering mental health concerns

Beneath The Stairs is the debut novel from Jennifer Fawcett, who grew up in Eastern Ontario, Canada. She worked in theatre before moving to the USA and currently lives in New York where she teaches writing. 

In the small town of Sumner’s Mills sits the Octagon House, hidden where few can find it, and even fewer have the guts to go. In this house, a man murdered his family, and the town is working hard to move on from this tragedy. Teenagers Clare and Abby decide to brave entering the house, but when Abby emerges, she is different. Twenty years later, Abby’s mother contacts Clare and asks her to come home because Abby has attempted suicide. Clare must return to her hometown and uncover what lead up to Abby’s attempt. 

The prologue sets the tone and is atmospheric and creepy, immediately luring me into the story. This underlying vibe is felt throughout the story—the feeling that something is lurking and of wanting to look over your shoulder. Fawcett’s writing style shifts seamlessly from past to present so seamlessly that, at times, lines almost feel like they are blurring in the best possible way. Sumner’s Mills feels like a true-life small town. A group of young girls, older brothers, budding crushes, and local lore. Being from a small town, I easily related to these girls and the feeling of wanting to leave it all behind, getting out, and then receiving that call that brings you back to the place. 

About halfway through, the pace really picks up, and I couldn’t put it down. The timelines were clearer, and it felt like I was hurtling towards the end. I have not read a novel like this one. It completely put me on edge, and I had no idea where the story was going. 

I viscerally felt all the feelings with this book. I connected with Clare immediately. I was the younger sister—I wanted all the adventures, the crushes, and to go everywhere my brother went. 

This story highlighted that the things that we experience as a child, including trauma, can shape us and follow us into adulthood. There were some serious mental health concerns in the story, and the author dealt with these in a very real way—the ups and downs, success and failures involved when coping and living with mental health concerns. 

I love this author’s writing style. I love that not only is she from Canada but Ontario - which relates to me. I love the eeriness of this story and the way that I cannot stop thinking of it. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who loves mystery, thrillers, cursed places, and a little horror. A reminder to check the trigger warnings as they are prevalent throughout the book. I cannot wait to read anything else from this author!

Run, don’t walk to get this book, and make sure you read it upstairs with the lights on!!

Thank you, Simon and Schuster Canada, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Just Kids by Patti Smith

By Fayth Simmons

Content Warning: Reference to Drug Use

Just Kids, the 2010 memoir of legendary American artist Patti Smith, follows the timeline of Smith’s ascent into fame, from her early years spent exploring the bohemian faces of New York City to the solidification of her place within it. Just as the book ruminates upon the life of Smith herself, it acts as a tribute to the late Robert Mapplethorpe. 

The pair first meet in New York, form a close relationship, and grow into their artistic practices parallel to each other. Throughout the years, they provide for each other, acting as muse for the other, lifeline, and devoted dreamer. Theirs was a love story set against a backdrop of a charged and changing city. 

As their artistic practices evolve and their inspiration is continually drawn from widening circles, the identity of their relationship changes too—though challenged, it never disappears and arguably only grows stronger with each change of artistic direction. Robert begins to focus heavily on his photography, while Patti is drawn into poetry and the world of performance. The narrative describes the trials and tribulations that irrepressibly follow the path of courage and the monumental articulation of one’s own voice. 

As the book explores this timeline of ascent, the reader is drawn into both the overt and empathetically subliminal world of Patti’s as she works to understand herself and her art before finally coming to the conclusion that they are, in fact, one and the same. She reminisces on her relationship with Mapplethorpe—the necessity and import of it, and how it worked to shape both of them as people, contributing to shared sets of values and a dedication to the pursuit of creation (thus finding value within the practice). 

Just Kids is evocative and timely—a reverential narrative that gives homage to the essential pre-conditions of artistic genius. The overarching tone is not necessarily nostalgic but clear and refreshingly decided, even though it recalls certain times of indecision. Smith writes in tell-tale prose, painting vivid, atmospheric scenes of Manhattan in the 60s and 70s—people and places representative of a time of innate artistic growth. Her ability to come across as both emotive and yet stoic is admirable and arguably necessary to the success of the narrative, which may well be considered a classic of memoirs. 

Book Review: Moonshot edited by Elizabeth LaPensée and Michael Sheyahshe

By Dahl Botterill

Moonshot: The Indigenous Comics Collection was originally released by Alternate History Comics in 2015. They followed it up with a second volume a few years later, and all three volumes are now available through Inhabit Education Books. Each book collects short works by a variety of Indigenous creators from all over North America, and the third volume is another fantastic collection. Moonshot Volume 3 focuses on stories that illustrate the concept of “Indigenous Futurisms,” stories that tell of “the past, present, and future as being a nonlinear reality.” It’s a concept that provides the Indigenous creators being showcased a lot of room to breathe, and the result is a truly diverse collection of comics and illustrated stories.

There’s an abundance of different art styles at work here, from the classic superhero stylings of “Slave Killer” to the soft shades and lines of “Sky People,” and the bold blocks of bright colour in “Sisters.” The stories also vary a great deal in tone and scale. “Our Blood” and the aforementioned “Sky People” follow a few characters over a short while in settings that feel fairly contemporary. “Future World and Xenesi: the Traveler” blends science fiction with broad temporal strokes, while “They Come for Water” and “Waterward” blend tradition with horror and a sense of timelessness. 

Moonshot Volume 3 is comprised of over a dozen tales written and illustrated by a wide variety of Indigenous creators from all over the continent, and the result is a fascinating collection of stories from distinct voices. If there is a disappointing aspect to the book, it’s that including so many stories require each tale be fairly brief and will leave the reader wanting so much more. Along with a foreword that expands on the concept of Indigenous Futurisms and provides some additional information on the individual stories, the collection also includes a short sketchbook of concept drawings and biographies of the contributors, including references to a number of their longer works. Perhaps a little something to read while hoping for the fourth volume of this important and thought-provoking series. 

Book Review: Our Homesick Songs by Emma Hooper

By Larissa Page

It’s 1992 and the fish have become scarce in the waters around Big Running and Little Running, Newfoundland, where the people have fished and relied on the water for their livelihood for generations. With the fish gone, the people are leaving too. The communities were small to begin with, but as more and more families move out west to find work, abandoning their homes and their previous lives, the Conners become one of the only families remaining. Finn, age 10, and his sister Cora, 14, cling to their former lives as their family starts to pull apart after their parents decide to alternate a month at a time working out west. When Cora goes missing, Finn is desperate to bring the fish back to the waters around the Runnings in an effort to bring his family back together.

This story alternates timelines and points of view. Mostly centred on Finn and the present day of 1992–1993, when his family is falling apart, it also tells the story of 20 years earlier when his parents fell in love, and his family was first formed. From 1969 to 1993 we see families being pulled apart and coming together, sticking to home and leaving home for new opportunities, building new relationships and coming back to old ones.

This novel was heartbreaking but never made me feel hopeless; it was a story I really enjoyed reading. Finn was a well-written child character. I felt his pain and confusion about the changes that were happening that he couldn’t fully understand, and his drive and need to do what he could to help. I also felt the sisterly love Cora had for Finn and what she did to try to improve his life without many other people around. They both had so much outside of their control and they both tried in their own ways to control what they could.

I also really enjoyed the back story of Finn’s parents; it may have been my favourite part of the whole book. This story linked up a bit with their present day situation, which I thought was well done. This gave the story aspects of a love story, but ultimately it was the love story of a family; their love for each other, their family ties, their love for a community. 

I didn’t know how their story would end, and with any story of a family, I still don’t really, but I was more than happy to be drawn back into the story every time. The events of the novel were sad and worrisome without being too tough or too traumatic for me as a reader. As mentioned, it was both heartbreaking and hopeful, and it is a novel I will be putting on my keeper shelf and recommending to friends to read.

Thank you to Simon & Schuster Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Dial A for Aunties by Jesse Q. Sutanto

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Weekend at Bernie’s meets meddlesome Asian aunties in Jesse Q. Sutanto’s genre-bending Dial A for Aunties. As the only girl in a family of male cousins, Meddy knows that it is up to her, and her alone, to make her mother and aunties proud, even at the cost of her own happiness. That’s how she ends up on a disastrous blind date set up by her mother… though she can’t exactly blame Ma when she accidentally kills the guy. In a moment of panic, she turns to her family for help, and before she knows it, Meddy’s aunties have sent the body to the over-the-top wedding they’re working, hosted at the hotel of none other than Meddy’s former love. Now it’s up to Meddy to wrangle her meddlesome family, dispose of a body, and just maybe win back the man of her dreams. All while avoiding prison. 

This book is an absolute delight from beginning to end. Full of nonstop laughs, relatable family drama, absurd hijinks, and a touch of romance, this book has everything. As someone who comes from a big family, and who has some meddlesome aunties of my own (if any of you are reading this, I love you!), it was incredibly relatable and so funny to read about Big Aunt, Second Aunt, Ma, and Fourth Aunt. Each of Meddy’s relatives is fleshed out and understandable, even when they behave in ways that are over the top and hilarious. That’s actually one of my favourite parts about this book; while the things that happen are outrageous—and I will by no means promise you realism or realistic scenarios in this book—the characters all feel grounded in reality, which makes the story more than just a slapstick comedy. Instead of any characters being reduced to being simply sources of humour, they all have enough depth and personal motivations to allow them to exist outside of the hilarious scenarios they find themselves in. And trust me, there are lots of hilarious scenarios. 

The most obvious example of this is our main character. Meddy is an excellent character to help ground the story in a bit of realism. Her struggle to find her personal identity within a family that she loves, but that also holds her back, is a struggle that I think lots of people can relate to, and the relationships between Meddy and each of her relatives are emotional and well-developed while never slowing down the humour of the story. The romantic relationship, while advertised as a major part of the story, is in fact only one of many subplots that are explored in this twisty, hilarious ride of a book, with the familial relationships being the real driving force. That being said, the romance is sweet and adds an extra layer to Meddy’s story, but it is by no means her entire story. 

The main element of this book is of course the comedy. Blending situational humour, slapstick moments, quips and more, this book has a thousand different ways to make you laugh. While, again, maybe not the most logical or realistic of plots, each comedic scene feels possible within the world Sutanto has created. She develops her characters in such a way that it just makes sense for each of them to bungle something so that Meddy now has more hilarious drama to deal with! This book had me giggling and frantically flipping the pages, while still giving me those heartwarming moments between Meddy, her aunties, and her Ma, which made the story all the more worth it. 

I will admit that things get a little bit preposterous as the story progresses, but if you suspend your disbelief and just enjoy the ride, this book will delight you from beginning to end. And luckily, if you like it, there’s more! The sequel, Four Aunties and a Wedding, is out now, ready to give us more shenanigans! 

Book Review: Again, Rachel by Marian Keyes

By Cassandra Navratil

The Walsh Family. Absolutely delightful. Totally dysfunctional. Wonderfully relatable. International bestselling author Marian Keyes’s latest foray into the lives of the now-infamous Walshes brings us back to a familiar character: Rachel. The long-awaited sequel to Rachel’s Holiday, which was set in the long-ago ’90s, Again, Rachel takes us on a journey into the future—to a time when Rachel Walsh seemingly has her life together. 

In the exact facility where she once spent a much-needed stint in rehab, Rachel is now an addictions counsellor, helping others realize and work through their own addictions and contributing issues. One of her worst and only habits at the moment is coveting Chanel bags online. She is in a fairly new, but stable, relationship with what seems to be a decent man. Life is…good. Settled.

Rachel has a history, though, and as we all know far too well, history has a tendency to pop up and revisit you when you least expect it. The funeral of an ex-mother-in-law and the arrival of the ex himself (with his new girlfriend, of course) throws Rachel into a bit of a tailspin. Her past and present collide, leading her to question everything she believes about why her previous relationship ended, and placing a definite strain on her current one. Nothing is left off the table, and the dynamic shifts throughout the story left me squirming in anticipation of what would happen next! 

Marian Keyes’s ability to connect the reader with her complex and diverse characters, and to create personal investment in their lives, well-being, and futures is unrivalled for me as far as this genre of fiction goes. I hadn’t read the entire Walsh family saga before reading this novel, and I can say with full confidence now that the few I was missing are at the very top of my list. A brilliant addition to the family, and one I’ll definitely be going back and plucking from my shelf for multiple re-reads.

A very exuberant thank you goes out to Penguin Random House for the advance copy of this novel for review.

Book Review: A Boy is Not a Ghost by Edeet Ravel

By Lauren Bell

A Boy is Not a Ghost is based on the true story of author Edeet Ravel’s fifth grade teacher, Nahum Halpern, now located in Montréal. The respect Ravel has for him is evident in her writing, and it’s not surprising to me that Halpern became a teacher, as his fictionalized counterpart, Nat, has an admirable love for reading and an unbounded inquisitiveness. Nat’s story spans from summer 1941 to winter 1994, and is the sequel to A Boy is Not a Bird, also written by Ravel. I have not read the prior novel, but I had no difficulty catching on to the plot from the first chapter. 

Nat starts the story as a 12-year-old travelling to Siberia after having been forced to leave his home of Czernowitz. Accompanying him is his mother and a disparate group of individuals thrown together by circumstance.  Early in the novel, the prose reflects Nat’s age with multiple !!! punctuating exclamatory sentences and CAPITALIZED WORDS FOR EMPHASIS, obviously reflecting the novel’s targeted younger audience. As Nat matures, the writing does as well, but I found it to be very readable for the age group it was written for. For instance, Nat is clever enough to know to read and write letters to his family in code, but Ravel follows each letter with an explanation of the letter’s intended meaning. She also uses the concept of quotas to explain some of the inexplicable acts of violence occurred during the war, and revisits the metaphor of being a ghost multiple times in the plot to reflect Nat’s changing perspectives. 

The group’s arrival in Siberia ultimately results in their disbandment, with some characters moving on to better circumstances and others not. Nat notes that “adults get noticed but kids slip through the cracks,” prompting him to do grown-up things such as bribing guards for the safety of others. Nat’s mother is soon arrested, and he is left in the care of their friend Irene, who leaves him to the Mindru family shortly after—but not before teaching him the skill of networking, which becomes integral to his survival. 

The tragedies happening around Nat prematurely age him, with the pattern of being left behind by others leaving a significant imprint on him and the decisions he makes. By the second and third parts of the story, he transitions from being the person who is left to the one leaving others. When he is finally reunited with his mother, their relationship has shifted so that he takes on the role of the guardian instead. 

I quite enjoyed reading A Boy is Not a Ghost and would very much recommend it to younger readers. The casual reflections made by Nat are thought provoking (“Stalin makes us all storytellers”) and Ravel’s descriptions of Siberia echo the bleakness of their altered world, where someone’s survival is dependent on having an indoor job vs. an outdoor one. Essentially, A Boy is Not a Ghost is not only an important war story, but also an important bildungsroman. 

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

Book Review: Bluebird by Genevieve Graham

By Larissa Page

Genevieve Graham is a renowned author of Canadian historical romance novels. When I discovered her a few years ago, it was after learning she was local to me and therefore a few of her historical novels were set locally (which I love). I devoured three of them in quick succession and have been periodically picking away at more of her books since.  

Bluebird is set during World War 1 and also in the region of Windsor, Ontario during the prohibition and rumrunning times in the early 1920s. The story begins with a small present-day storyline centering around a historian and the discovery of a few cases of rum from the 1920s and then jumps back to give us the origin story of how those bottles came to be there and the important players in their creation. From the hospital tents of France to the speakeasies of Windsor, Adele, Jerry, and John live a life of service then return from the war to a city and a way of living much different than the one they left. 

Graham has a particular writing style and voice when writing about historical events and overlaying characters, relationships, and love stories over top of them. Bluebird is no different. Falling back into Graham’s writing is a comfort, like a warm hug, even when the historical events can be or are heartbreaking. Not unlike falling back to a favourite TV show to re-watch for comfort and familiarity when you’re feeling anxious and overwhelmed, Graham’s writing style is familiar throughout her books even as the stories change. Those already familiar with her work will be happy to know they can depend on Bluebird to be the same.

Those not already familiar with Graham’s writing can expect an easy reading experience. The subject matter may be tough at points but never traumatic (though perhaps dramatic). The characters are easy to relate to and understand; not much is hidden in the subtext, so we are not required to draw too many of our own conclusions. 

The other wonderful thing about Graham’s novels is the historical education that goes along with them. Graham does her research and has said that one of her goals with her novels is to bring to light some of the events of Canada’s past that are lesser known. So, she learns about different periods and events and formulates a story around them, giving us characters of the time, relationships, and love stories, and also some insight into history we may not have already known.

Bluebird is no different in this way. Previous to reading, I hadn’t heard of the Nursing Sisters (with whom our leading lady Adele served during World War 1) or the tunnellers who dug under the trenches (like our stars of the book John and Jerry). I also knew very little about prohibition and rumrunners, which I found very interesting and exciting to have as a backdrop of a story. And the best part of the education piece is that Graham includes a historical note at the back that gives us more information on different aspects of the book and how Graham did her research.

Anyone who already loves Genevieve Graham will be happy to pick this one up, and anyone who has not yet experienced her writing will be well served for this to be their first.

Thank you, Simon and Schuster Canada, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: What His Wife Knew by Jo Jakeman

By Carly Smith

Content warning: Rape, suicide

Beth Lomas is what one may consider a stereotypical old-fashioned housewife; her husband controls the finances, decides what food she prepares, and relies on Beth to do the bulk of the parenting. At least he did until Beth was informed that Oscar, her husband, had died by suicide. Now left grieving the loss of her partner—the head of the house—Beth is skeptical that Oscar truly died by suicide. In addition, she is continuously made privy to the faux pas he had made in the time leading up to his death. DC Lowry Endecott, the officer assigned to Oscar’s case, is not entirely convinced that it was a suicide either. With the news of suspicious activity and indiscretions preceding Oscar’s death, Lowry and Beth work to assemble plausible scenarios for a motive for murder. 

In this multi-perspective thriller, the reader takes in the plot from three different individuals connected to Oscar: Beth, his widow; Lowry, the constable working on his case; and Molly, Beth’s longtime best friend. It was interesting that Beth’s chapters were written from a first-person perspective, while Molly and Lowry’s were from a third-person perspective. 

Beth’s character can be viewed as naive, oblivious, and obedient. She maintains these qualities less and less throughout the book, dissolving her desperate housewife persona as she is made more and more aware of who her husband truly was. As the novel progresses, she morphs into a stronger, more autonomous woman. Lowry is a hard-working officer whose critical thinking skills and detective experience prevent her from closing Oscar’s case. She brings a sense of calm to the pages, even though her place in the storyline is anything but calming. Molly is thoughtful and supportive and brings Beth to her senses often, but she is not without her faults. Her role in the lives of the Lomas’ is larger than Beth initially realizes, and as the plot thickens, readers are exposed to Molly’s less-than-enviable past.

What His Wife Knew is suitable for readers entering the thriller genre or for thriller lovers who want a quick, entertaining read. Although I swiftly predicted the bulk of the ending, I was surprised by a few events in the subplots. My interest in the novel piqued just over halfway through when Jakeman picked up the pace and really began to include more intriguing elements regarding the main storyline and the subplots. This book is a great option for readers between books with lots of substance or for those looking for an easy read to tide them over until they’re in the mood for a heavier book with lots to digest.

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

Book Review: Ink Earl by Susan Holbrook

By Erica Wiggins

Ink Earl is a book of erasure poetry. Erasure poetry is when an author takes an existing text and carefully erases words and letters to create a new work. In Ink Earl, the author uses an ad copy for the Pink Pearl Eraser. The author then begins her work by erasing to find the promise of “100 essays” using only this one passage. The author, Susan Holbrook, is a Canadian poet who published her first poetry collection while she was a graduate student. She has written several poetry collections along with a poetry textbook and play. 

This is my first foray into reading erasure poetry. It is a fun and interesting concept which requires quite a bit of creativity from the author. It took me a few tries to find the pattern and rhythm of the pages. At times, the words require some interpretation as the correct spelling of the words was not always used. You need to be patient and read between the lines. For me, there were a few pages where I was unable to decipher what the author was trying to get across. However, this did not take away from the book. 

The author groups the “essays” into categories. As I worked through the poems, I began to wonder which the author came up with first—the “essays” or the categories. When the author is working from one original text, the amount of time and careful consideration the author put into this work becomes clear. You begin to see the author’s personality and playfulness coming through in the various topics. 

Within each category, there were poems that made me stop and think and poems that made me laugh out loud. I felt like these were relevant to the world that we are living in now. Some of my favourite categories were the world, art, and health. From “RIP fresh air” to “Keep two metres apart” to “I lean in for her corners and dents,” I loved reading and sitting with each poem. 

If you are a fan of poetry, regular or erasure, check out this collection. I believe that it has a little something for everyone in it. It gave me a glimpse into a new style, and I will be checking out the author’s other works and more erasure poetry. 

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

Book Review: When We Were Birds by Ayanna Lloyd Banwo

By Larissa Page

Ayanna Lloyd Banwo is bursting onto the scene with this electric and beautiful debut novel When We Were Birds. Set in Trinidad and Tobago, bursting with culture and a crossover of reality and mythical planes, this novel follows two characters who come from wildly different backgrounds and are inexplicably linked. 

Yejide comes from Morne Marie, the newest of a long line of women who are connected to the dead to help them manage their time on the other side. Due to a fraught relationship with her mother, she hasn’t been taught how to use or manage this gift and needs to learn it on her own. Darwin, a Rastafarian from the country, is new to the city as he looks to find work to send money home to his mother. However, the only work he’s been offered is in a graveyard and this goes against all he’s ever known and been taught by his devout mother. It goes against their religion to interact with the dead. Having never been to a funeral or seen a dead body, working in a graveyard is a moral adjustment that he must work through even as he learns there may be more at play. The story tells us of Darwin and Yejide separately until they meet, lives intertwining, toward the end.

I did not know what to expect going into this story, so all of it was a new experience. It is written in a dialect that makes it so you can almost hear the characters and narrator talking as you’re reading it. This took a minute to get into the flow of reading, but it ultimately became one of my favourite parts of the novel as a whole. Once I got into the flow of reading this style of writing, I found it went quickly and was engaging.

The imagery was another of my favourite parts of this story. Much of Yejide’s story takes place with aspects of magical realism or mythological crossover and the imagery in the writing is vivid and beautiful. At points, I did find it to be a bit confusing, but I attribute that to being unfamiliar with much of that culture, stories, lore, etc., so by taking a minute and giving my brain a chance to form the images the writing was giving me, I felt like I was connecting to the story.

This is the type of book that takes a little bit of work to read and understand, but you are ultimately rewarded with a beautiful, new, original story that you are happy you devoted time to. It may not be a novel you pick up when you want a quick and easy read, but don’t pass it over if that’s what you usually read. This debut is worth your time.

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

Book Review: The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner

By Melissa Barbuzzi

In The Lost Apothecary, Caroline finds herself alone in London on her tenth wedding anniversary after discovering her husband's infidelity. As an aspiring historian, she decides to explore the city and finds an old apothecary vial that she can't resist investigating. As she deepens her investigation, Caroline’s world begins to collide with the history behind the vial.

I love, love, love the concept of this book, and the narration was great on audio! An apothecary that’s trying to right the wrongs of the world? Sign me up. Any type of historical fiction? I’m in!

The Lost Apothecary is historical fiction (based around the 1790s) that bounces back and forth with present-day POVs. I loved the multiple POV/split time period aspect as seeing the apothecary from the past and present perspectives added a different element to the story that I loved. I do wish that we got more of the past story and the history of the apothecary. I think Nella’s story deserved so much more attention and depth—it definitely left me wanting more. I did enjoy the present-day perspective, but I did think it took away from the whole apothecary piece. To me, it felt like a bit from a different story that was kind of just plopped into this book.

Regardless of the past and present aspects, I still really loved this book. It was filled with strong female characters who were always chasing their dreams. I absolutely loved the witchy apothecary/spells piece, I thought that was really interesting, and I would love to learn more about apothecaries now.

This book was recommended to me for ages, but I always pushed it off as I was unsure about it. I’m so happy I finally decided to read it, because it is definitely worth the hype, in my opinion.

Overall, I rated The Lost Apothecary a 4 out of 5 stars. There was so much that I loved like the history aspect, the apothecary, and the binge-worthiness. This was a super fast-paced and exciting book, and I haven't read anything similar to it in the past. If you love historical fiction or apothecaries, this book is right up your alley. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and if you’re going to pick it up, it was amazing on audio! 

Book Review: Looking for Jane by Heather Marshall

By Hayley Platt

Canadian author Heather Marshall’s debut novel Looking for Jane, published on March 1, 2022, expertly investigates some of the hard truths for unmarried women in the latter half of the twentieth century, alongside a message of hope and resilience in the present.

In 1960,  teenager Evelyn Taylor is dropped off at St. Agnes’s Home for Unwed Mothers by her father. She is there to wait out her pregnancy, put her baby up for adoption, and then return home, reputation unscathed.

In 1979, Nancy Mitchell finds herself rushing her cousin to the hospital following an unsafe abortion in a basement apartment. She is quietly told by one of the doctors what to do if she is ever in this situation again.

In 2017, Angela Creighton is going through fertility treatments to conceive a child following a few unsuccessful attempts and early miscarriages. While at work in an antique shop, she finds a letter written in 2010 that did not make it to its destination. Angela is determined to reunite the letter with its intended recipient.

Evelyn, Nancy, and Angela’s timelines slowly intertwine as the women work through the challenges put in front of them, leaving readers curious and determined to see the pieces fall together.  

Looking for Jane is a book that readers will be able to identify with. Just as no person comes to motherhood in the same way, Angela, Nancy, and Evelyn face different challenges on their paths to ultimately find peace from the events in their lives. Each of their storylines tackles issues surrounding women’s reproductive rights from a different perspective, and each protagonist has secondary characters in their life that enhance the story and give further insights into the challenges that can surround a pregnancy.

Heather Marshall set the majority of this book in Toronto, describing places that existed in the earlier timelines and still do today. It is easy to imagine you are right beside the women as they fight for their rights while expertly protecting their motherhood.

Looking for Jane dives deep into the maternity home system that existed in Canada, as well as women’s reproductive rights in the 1970s and 1980s. The concluding author’s note identifies some of the pieces of history this book has drawn from, including the network of ‘Janes’ in Chicago (an underground service that assisted and supported women through the abortion process) that elements of the book were modeled after. Marshall’s background includes education in history and work in politics, and she has expertly used her background to complement the narrative. She is using her voice not only to tell a story but also to educate and encourage readers to search out more information and act after reading her work.  

An astounding number of families have a history in maternity homes, with pregnancy loss, abortions, adoptions, and fighting for women’s rights. Looking for Jane showcases that it doesn’t matter how you come to motherhood, a mother is a mother, and that’s what’s important. Every reader will find some connection between parts of this book and their own life. 

For an exploratory look at the birth and adoption process in Canada’s not-so-distant past presented in a great historical read, pick up this book today! Also, don’t miss our fantastic interview with the author, Heather Marshall!

Thank you so much to Simon and Schuster Canada for the complimentary review copy of Looking for Jane so that it could be impartially reviewed.

Book Review: Spawn by Marie-Andrée Gill

By Meredith Grace Thompson

Marie-Andrée Gill’s poetry collection Spawn, available to my English eyes only through the 2020 translation by Kristen Renee Miller, is miraculous. It is sparse and poignant. Each poem sits on the page as an individual presence as well as a distinct movement between the sections of the collection as a whole. Imagery of water and splitting and towering run back and forth throughout the collection. 

Gill’s speaker is tied tightly to the life cycle of the ouananiche. Filled with imagery of a nostalgic 90s childhood, of a finding and seeking, of a coming together, and of a moving farther apart, Gill’s speaker moves through the sections of the poetry collection as the ouananiche move from the lake to the river. Birth, growth, spawning and eventually death. The ouananiche are everything. And we are spawning, and we are falling. 

“Timushum says: Only thunderstorms still tell it / like it is.”

“I am a village that doesn’t have a choice,” Gill writes, and I can’t stop focusing on the language. “And the lake, a luck, the lake.” I think of poetry as the building of words, the specific choosing and holding of individuals, linking to create lines and forming together in the culmination of image, tension, and that strange sense of sound in which words exist as muted silences on the page. A silence which sound is somehow filled in for, sitting at the back of our ears, inside the bones of our skulls. Gathered consonants create staccato rhythms inside themselves. But here—but here—I feel as if I am standing on one side of a waterfall, and Marie-Andrée Gill is standing on the other, speaking clearly and firmly, but I can’t hear her. I keep screaming what??, but I can’t hear her, and there is someone running back and forth telling me what was said, but everything feels staggered and lost, its resonance lingering and reverberating in the afterbeat, but the potency is diluted. The poetry itself is lost somewhat to me, and the translator is ever-present. But I want the poet.  

Incredibly aware of her presence as translator, Miller writes a beautiful translator’s note towards the end of the book in which she discusses her own connection to Gill’s work as well as the deeply rooted and problematized nature of language throughout the collection in and of itself. Miller is clearly incredibly aware of the role of the translator as bearer and caregiver of their translations. And Gill’s work is twice removed. Written in the colonizer language of French, Gill’s speaker is deeply connected to the world of her Ilnu ancestors but also ripped from that connectedness by the violence of colonization. 

“To lick the skin of the water / with a tongue I don’t speak” as the language that should have been the speaker’s birthright has been denied over and over again. Removed from ancestry through something as fundamentally vicious as the forced loss of the ability to understand and to speak. Forced conformity with European imperialistic standards. And what do we lose in the translation? And here I read the colonized words translated for the ease of another colonizer. And I wonder if these words are for me at all. 

I stand still on the edge of the lake and I wait. The words of each poem float up towards me, and I want to get closer to them. Can’t quite get close enough. 

Book Review: Violeta by Isabel Allende

By Carmen Lebar

Content Warning: violence, drug abuse, racism, colourism, domestic abuse

Violeta by Isabel Allende is the newest historical fiction novel from the prolific author. The novel centres around Violeta who is writing her life’s story—spanning 100 years—to her grandson. The novel chronicles many major events in Violeta’s story, but also many key historical moments that occur throughout her life. Violeta is born during a thunderstorm in an unnamed South American country, when the Spanish Flu is running rampant throughout the world. From there, the reader is swept away into an engrossing novel about relationships, identity, and storytelling. In parts devastating and inspiring, Violeta is a novel that creates a vivid and complex picture of a Latinx woman creating herself.

Allende is masterful in writing historical fiction, but with Violeta, I think she’s really showing off her craft. The story she writes about Violeta does not rely on historical events to progress the plot. Every historical event Allende uses is intentional and adds to Violeta’s life. What Allende does very well is focus on Violeta’s story and her personal history—and how this personal history connects to world events. I felt this created a more intimate reading of Violeta’s story, and that the historical references didn’t distract from the overall plot. Allende writes in-depth moments of intimacy, abuse, caregiving, and thievery. As every chapter ended, I didn’t want to put my book down. I wanted to keep reading further to learn who Violeta is.

The writing in this novel is some of my favourite. Allende writes Violeta in a first-person narrative which gives a very personal element to the novel. As Violeta chronicles her life, there are very private details that feel life-like that creates a familiarity with her audience—her grandson. We see the ups and downs steeped in pure emotion and honesty. Violeta’s narrative voice is one that begs to be listened to. I was hooked by every word Allende wrote and felt like I was being personally given Violeta’s story. There’s an intimacy in this novel that’s hard to come by. The words Allende uses created such amazing characterization for Violeta. It was a pleasure to see how Violeta goes from a young woman who is unsure of herself and her future, to the confident centennial she is by the end of the novel. 

Violeta is an absorbing historical fiction novel that history lovers will no doubt enjoy. But this novel isn’t just for history buffs. The stories Violeta tells about organized crime, love, family, and identity will delight even the pickiest of readers. This is a novel that will make you laugh, cry, and make you think how you would tell your own story if given the chance. Violeta is a great addition to Allende’s canon and is one I think people will return to time and time again. I highly recommend this novel to anyone looking to read more books by Latinx authors, but also anyone who is ready to go on a fictitious, lifelong journey. 

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.