Book Review: The Corpse Flower by Anne Mette Hancock

By Rebekah Dolmat

Content warning: child sexual abuse, child trafficking, murder

The Corpse Flower, written by Swedish author Anne Mette Hancock, is the first in the Danish crime series titled Kaldan og Scäfer (otherwise known as the Kaldan and Scháfer mysteries). Hancock’s books can currently be found in their original language, with The Corpse Flower being the first one translated into English. The second book in the series, The Collector, will be translated into English and published by Crooked Lane Books later this year, with the rest of the series likely to follow.

The Corpse Flower follows journalist Heloise Kaldan and homicide detective Erik Scháfer as they try to locate a missing woman named Anna Kiel. Anna is wanted in connection with the death of a young lawyer three years prior and has not been seen by anyone since fleeing from the crime scene covered in blood. When Heloise—who is in the midst of trying to keep her job after a once-trusted source was caught lying—receives the first in a series of cryptic letters from Anna, she realizes that this may be the story she needs to salvage her career. Detective Scháfer enters the scene when the lead reporter who wrote about Anna Kiel in connection to the dead lawyer is found murdered in their apartment. As the letters keep coming and the mystery of Anna continues to evolve, Heloise and Scháfer work to uncover the truth. However, in order for Heloise to tell Anna’s story, she must first revisit the darkest places of her own past. What ensues is a very dark and disturbing revenge story that will have readers holding on to the edge of their seats.

It’s safe to say that I LOVED this book. It’s a slow-burn mystery that features all of the elements that I tend to love in a good crime novel—a unique, compelling, and unpredictable plot that is told through multiple alternating points of view, with dark and disturbing undertones, and made up of complex characters that you can’t seem to get out of your head. Each point of view—Heloise who is trying to save her reputation, Detective Scháfer who is now in charge of the unsolved murder, and Anna Kiel who is running from her scarred and bloody past—offers a much-needed lens and perspective into the overall story.

What helps make this book unique, when compared to other (Nordic) noir crime novels, is that while there is a detective in the story, the real investigating is being done by a journalist, rather than by the detective or criminal investigator. It’s a different angle that I’ve not seen very often in my own personal reading, but something that I really appreciated because it forces the reader to ask different types of questions while reading and uncovering the mystery at hand.

In essence, The Corpse Flower is a dark and complex book that packs a punch with its completely unpredictable plot. Readers will be kept wondering how the story will unfold. I highly recommend to fans of the Nordic noir genre, as well as to those who like their crime books on the darker side.

Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for the complimentary review copy.

Book Review: Cul-de-Sac by Joy Fielding

By Robyn Rossit

Content warning: domestic abuse, gun violence, substance abuse, rape, suicidal ideation

When I read the description of Joy Fielding’s Cul-de-Sac I was instantly intrigued. On a normally quiet and unassuming cul-de-sac in Florida, someone is shot dead during the night. With a vast cast of characters occupying the street, the reader is left guessing as the story goes back before the shooting: who was shot and who was the shooter? There’s Maggie, a perfectionist who has recently moved to Florida with her children and now ex-husband, Craig. There is the power couple, Nick the oncologist and his wife, Dani, a dentist. There is Julia, who is an elderly widow whose troubled grandson has recently come to stay with her. There are Olivia and her husband Sean, who has recently lost his job and struggles with alcohol abuse and intrusive violent thoughts. Finally, there are Aiden and Heidi, a newlywed couple whose relationship has always been rocky because of Aiden’s controlling mother. Each family has their own secrets and struggles, and all seem to have access to guns.

What I loved the most about Cul-de-Sac is how Joy Fielding truly kept the reader guessing. There were so many times I thought I could figure out who was killed and who did the shooting. I kind of felt like I was playing my own mental game of Clue. There were so many ways it could have plausibly panned out which made this a very exciting read. The reader gets a lot of time with each family leading up to the night of the shooting which was a fantastic way to lay out the story.

I also really enjoyed how well-developed the characters were. Each family was dysfunctional in its own unique way but felt realistic at the same time. I felt such a range of emotions while reading as a result. Some of them were truly awful and rage-inducing on the page, while some made me feel so sympathetic to the horrors they were facing. It was truly impressive how distinct and developed such a large cast of characters was. With multiple points of view, I can’t even really say that I had a favourite; they all had me invested and kept the pages turning.

This was my first book by Joy Fielding and I can say it will not be my last. I really enjoyed Cul-de-Sac—it was the domestic thriller I didn’t even realize I was looking for. You never truly know what is going on behind the closed doors of your neighbourhood, and Cul-de-Sac is truly a testament to that! Engaging from page one, this might be the domestic thriller you’ve been looking for!

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

Book Review: One Italian Summer by Rebecca Serle

By Christa Sampson

Rebecca Serle is an author of novels for both adults and young adults. One Italian Summer is her seventh book. This adult novel explores a close relationship between mother and daughter and a bond that lasts even after death. Main character Katy is devastated by the passing of her mother Carol. Attempting to deal with her grief, Katy takes a trip to Positano, Italy, on the Amalfi Coast, a trip that she and her mother were supposed to take together. On one hand, she can’t bear to even think about going, but Positano is a place that her mother remembered so fondly and wanted to share with Katy, and ultimately, she feels that she has no choice but to go. 

The novel begins with a grief-stricken Katy trying to reconcile how to live her life without her mother. She is overcome with emotion yet numb at the same time. Everything feels wrong, including her marriage to her college sweetheart. She is staying at her childhood home, surrounded by everything that was her mother. Katy watches her father fumbling through his own emotions, while she can’t even begin to scratch the surface on hers. Instead of addressing the pain that she’s feeling, Katy puts an emotional wall up between herself and her husband, but he remains supportive and encourages her to go on the trip to Italy. 

This novel is unique from the perspective that it is a love story, but not in the romantic sense. It is a story of the love between parent and child and how one learns to go on after the other is no longer there. I appreciate the exploration of this type of love story; however, the way in which it was presented in this novel wasn’t compatible with my expectations. Being a daughter and a mother myself, I can relate to the strong love and bond that exists between parent and child, yet I found that the relationship between main character Katy and her recently deceased mother was an extremely dependent one. As the story unfolded, I found myself feeling sorry for twenty-something Katy’s debilitating dependency on her mother, rather than heartbroken for her loss.  She seemed to come into her own a little bit during her trip to Positano and even had a casual fling with a fellow traveler despite being married. The reader isn’t provided with much prompting to root for the reconciliation of Katy and her husband, and while there is a fair bit of tension between her and the new love interest, when they finally give into their lust it made me cringe instead of swoon.

Furthermore, I felt that the book read a little differently after this point. The “f” word shows up twice towards the end of the book and while I’m always supportive of a well-placed curse word, it didn’t seem to land right. I felt that because the characters didn’t previously express themselves in that way, laying down an f-bomb just felt out of place. Without giving away any spoilers, I can say that the story ended without much consequence or real resolution. 

While this book didn’t work for me, I think that readers who enjoy escaping or travelling vicariously through a book will enjoy the descriptive prose about the rugged beauty of the Amalfi Coast and all of its sights, sounds, smells, and tastes. Reading this book did reignite my desire to go back to Italy. 

Thank you to Simon & Schuster for the complimentary NetGalley copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: If We Were Villains by M L. Rio

By Carmen Lebar

Content warning: murder, homophobia, mentions of sexual assault, suicide, physical abuse, drug abuse

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio is a novel that centres around a group of fourth-year theatre students at a prestigious university program in Illinois. All is well until their typical casting gets flipped on its head, forever changing the power dynamics of the group. At the beginning of the novel, the reader is introduced to Oliver Marks, one of the students, who is being released from prison for a crime that we aren’t clear whether he committed or not. A dark, twisted, and mysterious novel, If We Were Villains explores many themes such as friendship, academia, accountability, and trauma. What the novel excels at is plot and form.

The novel’s plot is wonderfully crafted. With an academic setting taking place in the fall, it sets the story up for something dark and mysterious. During the fall semester, a tragedy unexpectedly hits the group of students, leaving each student with an equal combination of grief and guilt. Fast forward to the winter semester, and the unexplained circumstances of this tragic event reveal itself in an epic twist and unexpected ending. I found the plot flowed seamlessly throughout the two semesters of school, while also circling back to present day Oliver. Since there were many loose ends in this story unanswered, the mystery of what happened felt unpredictable in the best way. Even when I thought I knew something was about to happen, Rio flipped the script and left me shocked. In combination with the novel’s form, this soon became a book I will never forget.

Just like many Shakespeare plays, If We Were Villains follows a common theatrical structure. The novel is separated into three acts, all divided into scenes and prologues. Even the dialogue follows a play’s structure when characters are speaking consecutively—listing character names instead of separate paragraphs. Since the novel centres around theatre students exclusively performing Shakespeare plays, it added a metatheatrical lens to the entire story. I viewed the novel in a vastly different way when counting this element; I saw it as if the form was directing the novel’s plot. It felt deeply researched, and it enriched the idea of how actors follow many of the character tropes in the plays they’re rehearsing. I enjoyed Rio’s Shakespearean allusions, and the way some of the plot points and character development resembled a lot of the playwright's work.

If you are someone who loves Shakespeare, or loves a bit of theatre, this novel will send you on a three-act roller coaster of suspense and romance. The ending of If We Were Villains left me speechless and had me thinking about the entirety of the novel for a few days after reading. Even if you aren’t someone who likes the above, the novel’s fantastic character development, mystery, and dark academia will draw you in. I suggest picking this novel up with your favourite hot beverage, an oversized sweater, and waiting for the air to chill to feel the full effect of this thrilling novel.

Book Review: Ring Shout by P. Djèlí Clark

By Larissa Page

Ring Shout is a small book that packs a big punch. Coming in at under 200 pages, this novel/novella centers around Maryse and her gang of resistance fighters who are not only pushing back against the Klu Klux Klan as strong Black women, but also against actual Demons called Klu Kluxes (and more otherworldly beings) who thrive and feed on the hate living inside the racist members of the Klan and use it to grow and bring Hell to earth—unless the resistance fighters can stop them.

Before jumping into this one I knew it involved demons but I did not know it fit itself comfortably into the horror genre. Horror is not a typical genre for me but when it’s done well, I do enjoy it. I felt P. Djèlí Clark did it well. The scenes would be considered graphic, with the demons and disguised demons described like the stuff of nightmares, but this all lent itself well to the story and wasn’t over the top or overly gross (that I found).

I really loved the characters, these strong women fighting alongside each other. Even though the book was short in pages, it still gave us little tidbits of each of the women that made me love them. Maryse with her history of pain and loss, Sadie with her badass gun skills, and the former Harlem Hellfighter (WW1 soldier) Chef, together made a team that you could feel the connections in. Even the matriarch of the group leading them in ring shouts and full of knowledge, Nana Jean, was integral to the group.

Due to its short nature, I sped through this book in just two days and found myself plopped into a fictionalized horror story that related very much to a real time in our collective history. The Birth of a Nation was a silent film released in 1915 that really was highly racist and really did fuel the rebirth of the Klu Klux Klan, all facts I didn’t know before reading Ring Shout. 

Ring Shout is a novella that appealed to both me and my husband, who have very different reading preferences, and once I was finished, I was excited to pass it along to him to read so we could discuss it. I believe it has something for everyone (who can handle a bit of horror and demons from time to time) and has the potential to lead to some great conversations.

Book Review: Dream States by John Lorinc

By Carly Smith

In Dream States, John Lorinc chips away at the opportunities and obstacles that future urban settings will bear, whether deliberately or inadvertently. With an abundance of useful examples and sound quotes from expert sources, the book exposes readers to the benefits and detriments of the use of smart technology in current and future cities. Dream States starts with an introduction to a “smart community” that was, at one time, a possibility in a neighbourhood in Toronto, Ontario. Lorinc then moves into a brief history of technology’s role in urban development around the globe, and finally settles into the bulk of the book, which examines how technology’s evolution affects the evolution of urban areas. The book covers topics like data collection, data usage, surveillance, technological advancements related to automated systems, and the politics surrounding smart technology in urban planning. Finally, Lorinc comes full circle to connect much of the information presented in the book to the initial example of Toronto’s once-possible smart community.

It is obvious that, from start to finish, Lorinc worked meticulously to gather applicable, credible information to support the content. Dream States includes a table of contents, index, and bibliography, all of which are helpful, considering the breadth of information presented to the readers. Lorinc’s writing is detailed and academic; if readers are unfamiliar with certain topics, it would be valuable to jot notes and flag specific pages to revisit. I appreciate that Lorinc offers both the pros and cons to the potential outcomes that may arise as a result of incorporating more and more smart tech into urban development. There were parts, however, that felt convoluted, and at times, over-described yet lacking connection to the topic at hand. This may not be the case for all readers, though, especially those with a stronger grasp of technology and its place in urbanism.

Dream States delivers a takeaway for all readers, whether they absorb the book in its entirety or pick and choose different segments. Whatever readers desire to learn from this book, it is important to know that it is not a light read and can almost be treated as a textbook. In fact, I found myself thinking repeatedly while reading, “This would be the most interesting textbook a teacher could add to a syllabus”. It will help skeptics of smart technology understand why it is beneficial while offering a perspective of caution to those who feel like new age technology should be automatically included in all new urban developments. Finishing the book does not mean you will finish thinking about a future utopia in the age of smart technology.

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

Book Review: I Have the Right to Save My Planet by Alain Serres and Aurélia Fronty

By Christine McFaul

I Have the Right to Save My Planet is a picture book written by Alain Serres, illustrated by Aurélia Fronty, and translated by Shelley Tanaka. This book is part of a series that also includes the award winning I Have the Right to Be a Child and I Have the Right to Culture.

I Have the Right to Save My Planet begins by introducing the world as a gift. Given to each of us when we are born, the air, the grass, the sun, the shade, and even cow dung (a gift especially appreciated by the flies in the skies!), is for all of us, and best of all, it is free. Because of that, nature connects us. The great chain of life goes all the way around the planet linking the world together as we work to share and preserve this intricate and essential resource. But what happens when we don’t take care of our precious gift? Like when we dump plastic water bottles (that never go away) into the oceans, destroy rainforests to plant palm trees (for a cheap resource used in some cookies, margarines, and shower gels) or when we do not share or care equally about who has access to our increasingly limited natural resources (like fresh drinking water)? It is by answering this question that the book delivers its most powerful message: When the planet is threatened by human activity then we all have the right to take action. We can plant a bee-friendly garden, preserve habitats for bugs and birds, use our voice to demonstrate, or even write to world leaders. We can dare to dream of a future where the world is protected and shared, treated like the gift it is meant to be.

Originally written by Serres in French and beautifully translated by Shelley Tanaka (an award-winning Canadian author, translator, and editor) the narrative unfolds using simple, child-focused language. Complex concepts are made accessible for the picture book age range using well-chosen analogies, fun and engaging facts, and even some well-timed humour. Fronty’s illustrations are integral to this process and create gorgeous visual explanations and interpretations of the text. Each page is extremely child-friendly, boasting eye-catching combinations of whimsy, emotion, and information all drenched in vibrant colours.

I Have the Right to Save My Planet manages to balance urgency and hope. It is a child-focused, informative, and stunning picture book for anyone looking to introduce the concept of environmental activism to young readers. A fantastic choice for personal reading or for classroom use.

Note: This is a book I would consider flipping through yourself before reading with a child. This will allow some time to anticipate questions and emotions that are likely to come up during reading.

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

Book Review: Girl in Ice by Erica Ferencik

By Kaylie Seed

Content warning: suicide, alcoholism, drug use

I have always been fascinated by languages and the origin of words—where do certain words come from and how have they become what we know today? I also really enjoy reading about all things Nordic. When I read the synopsis for Erica Ferencik’s Girl in Ice and found out that the main character was a linguist who focused on dead Nordic languages, I knew this would be a book I would love—and boy, was I right.

Val Chesterfield has devoted a large part of her life to deciphering lost languages and studying the etymology of words. Even though she is an accomplished linguist, Val struggles with extreme anxiety and self-medicates using alcohol and pills, never travelling far from home or work. When her late brother Wyatt’s research partner reaches out to Val about a young girl who was frozen in ice and thaws out alive—a scientific impossibility—on a remote island in Greenland, Val feels compelled to help. But Val also has an ulterior motive: to find out if her brother really did willingly walk into 50-degree below zero weather to die or if something more sinister happened in this place where a girl thawed from ice.

Ferencik has clearly done her research about Greenland's landscape and history. Girl in Ice is incredibly atmospheric, and Ferencik’s vivid descriptions truly transported me to this beautifully desolate land. Readers will also appreciate the history notes sprinkled throughout the plot as they enhance the reading experience. Everything about the setting was wonderfully done. Even though most readers would think of Greenland as a bare island covered in snow, readers will get to experience the rugged terrain, ice floes, glaciers, and various wildlife that make Greenland home.

Val is such a complex character, and the secondary characters throughout Girl in Ice all have interesting backstories. Readers will feel that Val’s characterization is done well, and in the end, will be satisfied with where she ends up as no loose ends are left. I really enjoyed how much Ferencik focused on Val’s linguistics throughout the novel; it truly was a focal point of this story and it showed. Other themes present include family, unconditional love, climate change, and mental illness.

I didn’t want this story to end. While it was tied up neatly in the end, I was craving the story to continue because of my appreciation for Val—she was a fantastic protagonist. I would recommend this to readers who enjoy mysteries, Nordic backgrounds, history, and language. This was my first read by Ferencik but it definitely won’t be the last.

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

In Conversation with Emma Hooper author of We Should Not Be Afraid Of The Sky

With Larissa Page

Photo by Sean Maylon

We Should Not Be Afraid Of The Sky was written from the perspective of five different characters/sisters and each of their voices is incredibly unique. Did you have any challenges in writing the voices of characters who were simultaneously so similar yet so different?

It was certainly a tricky line to tread: how to have the sisters be both notably connected (identical, even!) with all the shared rhythms that come of such a bond, but also remain distinct individuals? But it was also fun. I tried to let each character’s experience and role within the group distinguish them. I had a few methods to help me with this while writing, including having a different playlist of music for each sister that I could listen to before and while writing in their voice…

The setting and timeframe of this novel is not one we hear about often in historical fiction novels. What inspired you to write a story set during the Roman Empire and the beginnings of Christianity? Did you find you needed to research this time in history for information and what were some of your favourite details that you uncovered?

It was actually the character of St Quiteria who led me to this time period. My fascination began with her and, according to one set of legends, anyway, this was where and when she lived.

One of my favourite learned details was that the ancient Romans at this time had alarm clocks… but not domestic cats. More generally, I really enjoyed digging into how the cultures of that time overlapped, mingled and mixed. The movement and blending of peoples and traditions was much more an everyday part of life in the empire than I’d realised…

Who was your favourite character to write about and why? Was it one of the sisters or someone else in the narrative?

That’s tricky! I love all the sisters so much, it doesn’t seem right to choose between them… but I can say that of the non-sister characters I particularly enjoyed writing “don’t call me mother" Julia, the commander’s wife. She represents a certain traditional type of female role that I found quite interesting to play with and juxtapose with the sisters and their adventures. She’s ‘traditional’ but still a unique and interesting person with her own quirks and flaws within that role.

Did you find the process of writing this novel different from the process of writing your previous novels? How would you say this novel differs or is similar to your previous works?

This one definitely took a lot more research…! While the other books definitely contained elements I wanted and needed to learn more about to write convincingly (cod fishing, world-war-two, Canada folk songs…) We Should Not Be Afraid of the Sky was so much further away from where and when I’m from. This was also my first novel written in the first person, something that took a little getting used to, but which also opened up new ways to present the character’s thoughts, actions and relationships. I quickly learned that there is so much more to it than just switching “she” to “I”…

If you could go back and live in the setting of one of your novels (all are so unique), which one would you chose and why?

Well, I’d love to go back and visit the ancient Roman Portugal setting of We Should Not Be Afraid of the Sky but I wouldn’t want to live there. Women had drastically fewer rights and possibilities open to them then, something the sisters in the book are fighting against a lot of the time. I’m also a big fan of modern medicine! But it would be so so so fascinating to see the architecture, food, clothing, and everything else from so very long ago; so much of what we know is based on so little, really, and I’d love to be able to fill in the many knowledge gaps.

In terms of actually living, it might seem strange, but I’d probably choose the lonely Newfoundland island from Our Homesick Songs. I spent some time in similar places while researching that book (and before, just because I love it there) and there’s something incredible magical about it. One thing is how it’s foggy at some point almost every single day… it sort of blurs the boundary between yourself and the sea. Overall I love how much the sea and weather permeates so much there, from food to songs.

Now that We Should Not Be Afraid Of The Sky is making its way into the world, are you working on your next project? What can you share with us about it?

I am! But I’m still in that fizzy, sparkly early stage where things are very fun and changing every day… ask me that question again in a year’s time and I’ll have a firmer answer for you…

What advice would you give to aspiring authors who are trying to navigate the publishing world?

If you really love it then just keep trying. There’s no such thing as a failed book or project, as each one teaches you so much that you can use to write a better next one. It took me ten years and three novels to actually get to the stage of publication…!

What is your “must-read” book recommendation and what book has had the most impact and influence on your writing?

In terms of ‘must-read’: anything and everything. The most important thing, I think, is just to always have a book (or two) on the go…

Some authors that have really impacted and influenced me, however, include Ali Smith, Heather O’Neill, Karen Russel, and Jane Austen…

Book Review: We Should Not Be Afraid of the Sky by Emma Hooper

By Larissa Page

In the age of the Roman Empire, in a small Portuguese village, nine identical sisters are born to the Commander’s wife. Nine births, nine sisters. In a possible misunderstanding, or a possible rebellion, the housemaid takes the girls and manages to find the ones who survived homes within the village, all taken in by the working families who harvest the lemons that grow on the lands. The sisters, identical, know they are kin even though they grow up with different adoptive families, and when the secret is revealed and a solider comes to take them back to the big house, their lives are forever changed.

We Should Not Be Afraid of the Sky takes place in approximately 180 AD, a time when the Romans were ruling a large empire and fighting against the “barbarians” and the “Christians” who had started to follow the word of Jesus, believing in a new religion and being persecuted. It is told from the perspective of five of the sisters, each with their own personality, beliefs, and experiences of the time and the events. In many cases we experience the same events, actions, and results but through different eyes, each sister having experienced things a different way.

I really enjoyed how each sister we heard from had their own distinct voice. We get almost a whole life story from each of the five, though always in different ways. For identical sisters, each one is very much their own person—some are leaders, others followers; some are loud, others quiet; some change their beliefs, others do not. The character growth as they move from young girls to pre-teens to young adults was interesting to watch, as was the way they move through periods of independence from each other and dependence on each other.

I was not expecting this book to be about the early days of Christianity, and, considering our current world where religion and the church are responsible for so much oppression and heartache, I found this part of the novel fascinating. Hearing the characters talk in secret about the new God, about Jesus, knowing they would face prosecution if they were found out, is not a narrative we often see about Christianity nowadays. For this same reason as well as a few others, I found the choice of timeframe and setting compelling, in addition to enjoying the different characters and their unique voices.

While this story is not what I was expecting when I picked it up, it had voices, characters, setting, and a writing style I found very interesting. It was historically set but in a time that is less common in the literary world; therefore, the concepts and history may be different for readers who are used to picking up historical fiction set in similar times over and over again.

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

Book Review: The Woman in the Purple Skirt by Natsuko Imamura

By Kaylie Seed

The Woman in the Purple Skirt is a short thriller that follows a woman who calls herself The Woman in the Yellow Cardigan (Cardigan) as she observes The Woman in the Purple Skirt (Skirt) on a daily basis. What begins as innocent observations quickly escalates into stalking as Cardigan becomes obsessed with Skirt over the entirety of the book. The reader will experience Cardigan stalking Skirt from noting activities that Skirt does to dreaming about the day that they may finally speak.

Natsuko Imamura has created a character that is unlike others I have encountered in books. The Woman in the Yellow Cardigan is an unreliable narrator because of this obsession with The Woman in the Purple Skirt; however, because of the obsession, it is hard to not believe everything the narrator says and does. The Woman in the Yellow Cardigan is truly a juxtaposition. Imamura’s prose is deadpan, and because of that, readers may find the writing to be dry even though it is detailed.

While this is a short read, it is incredibly obscure and difficult to recommend to readers unless they are looking for a specific type of book. Think literary fiction meets slow-burn thriller meets deadpan conversations. While it’s labeled as a thriller, it tends to read more like a literary fiction novel that peers into this particular moment in time between these two women. While this novel may seem short and to the point, there is a lot of detail throughout these pages, so readers will need to pay close attention so that they don’t miss anything. But don’t expect all of your questions to be answered—this one truly focuses on a brief moment in time between Cardigan and Skirt.

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

Book Review: Youngblood by Sasha Laurens

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warning: blood/gore, violence, murder, homophobia, racism, lesbophobia, death of a parent

In a world where feeding from humans can be deadly, vampires have had to come together in order to survive. For Kat, a young vampire on the outskirts of Vampirdom, there is nothing she wants more in her immortal life than to attend Harcote, a prestigious, all-vampire boarding school. The connections she could cultivate with the vampire elite would be life changing. Taylor, on the other hand, is fed up with Harcote and everything it represents. As Harcote’s only out lesbian student, Taylor is constantly ostracized by her ultra-conservative teachers and classmates. But the two girls quickly realize that more than just their high school experiences are at stake; the entire future of Vampirdom hangs in the balance of what happens at Harcote.

I have very mixed feelings about this book, and it was incredibly difficult to review. While reading, I felt like Youngblood was a breath of fresh air, harkening back to the supernatural vampire trend of the early 2010s, but modernized. Kat and Taylor are definitely the stars of this story, each of them distinct, unique, and fleshed out. Even when I didn’t agree with the things they were doing, their actions made sense, and the romance between them felt really organic. I found the world of Vampirdom created in this novel to be interesting, and while the ultra-conservative vampires of Harcote made me uncomfortable, I felt like that was the intention. Laurens definitely succeeded at creating a toxic and conservative culture for Vampirdom and Harcote, and while I definitely didn’t enjoy the vampire culture, I feel like it was developed well.

That being said, there were some things about this book that didn’t work for me, and upon further reflection I started to notice things that didn’t sit well. The pacing was off, and the mystery component didn’t get enough page time. The book spent much more time on the high school drama side of things, and while I enjoyed that, a lot of larger scale issues were brought up but never fully addressed or explored in the level of detail I feel those topics deserved.

On that note, my biggest criticism of this book is the ways in which racism and homophobia were used and handled. While I understand what Laurens was going for—that the new generation can unlearn negative and harmful behaviours and make room for a healthier, more progressive society—I feel like this message fell flat on execution.

I appreciate the attempts to bring these discussions to light, but there were instances in this book where Laurens, a white author, used racist and homophobic opinions and observations only to show the reader how progressive Kat is in comparison to the rest of vampire society. Likewise, real world issues of colonization, slavery, and assault were brought up and used within the story casually and were explained away in ways that felt harmful and unnecessary. While I cannot speak to all the ways in which this book used harmful stereotypes and tropes, I do encourage you to read reviews written by people within the communities affected by them to see the ways in which this story failed to achieve its aims when it comes to addressing the dangers of a conservative culture.

While I had fun on my initial read of this book, there were things that made me uncomfortable while reading, and upon further reflection I find there are too many things in this book that could be harmful. I understand what Laurens was attempting, and I can only speak to my experience as a reader, but overall, I don’t think the story managed the nuance and sensitivity it needed to tackle all the topics it tried to address.

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

Book Review: Rave by Jessica Campbell

By Kaylie Seed

Content warning: homophobia/internalized homophobia

Jessica Campbell’s Rave is a graphic novel that follows soft-spoken Lauren in the early 2000s as she struggles to find her identity when her sexuality and faith are no longer on the same page. Lauren’s family are devoutly religious, to the point where they do not allow Lauren to bring home her textbook on evolution. When Lauren has to complete an assignment using that very textbook, she ends up at Mariah's house, a Wiccan who is unapologetically herself. Lauren and Mariah begin to have a secretive queer relationship that leaves Lauren swirling in Christian guilt and an internalized homophobia that leaves Lauren with an identity crisis.

Readers may find that this short graphic novel wasn’t fleshed out in the way they may have been hoping. The characters are quite one-dimensional with quite a few stereotypes and cliches present throughout. They lacked personality and uniqueness, and I felt like I had already read about these characters before. Campbell allows the illustrations to tell the story more than her writing, so readers will find that this is a quick read if they are not taking their time to analyze each illustration.

The ending is quite abrupt and ends with little questions being answered, leaving readers wondering if that truly was the end of the novel. The narrative felt rushed and underdeveloped, and maybe that was due to the illustrations telling the story more than the words. Rave would be a great read for those interested in coming-of-age stories and would appreciate a quick, to-the-point graphic novel.

Thank you, Drawn & Quarterly, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century by Kim Fu

By Larissa Page

Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century is a unique collection of short stories. These stories are not linked to each other, but as I read through this collection I felt there was a common theme among them all. The synopsis on the back of the book cites this theme as “the strange made familiar and the familiar strange,” which I find vague but also perfectly fitting.

There have been many times that I’ve lost interest in a collection of short stories or have felt the need to push myself to continue reading, but I found Kim Fu’s writing to be engaging, propelling, and descriptive. At the end of each story, I was excited to start a new story with a new world and reality laid out. I found these stories interesting, thought-provoking, and each so different than the last.

Something I noticed was common among several of these stories is one of my favourite, though sometimes frustrating, literary tools: the unfinished ending. Several of the stories in this collection ended without full closure, enough that you are left wondering what happens beyond what is written on the page. I found myself thinking about these stories after the fact, wondering what the outcome actually was, wondering how the characters continued on with their lives. Additionally, a lot of the stories brought up concepts that were interesting and new and really made me think about what life would be like if this happened or that was invented. For short stories to have that sort of impact on someone’s thinking, I believe, is an incredible feat.

This collection was similar to another collection of short stories I read last year, Glorious Frazzled Beings. However, I struggled a lot with my feelings for Glorious Frazzled Beings, finding that I didn’t connect to or understand the element of weird that was woven through the stories. I find myself feeling the complete opposite about this collection. While it certainly has the element of weird, I really enjoyed my experience reading Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century. It didn’t feel “over my head” and I felt like I could connect to most of the stories.

As a comment on the publishing, this book (or my copy at least) is printed on the most luxurious paper! Quoted in the back as being Zephyr Antique Laid paper from second growth forests, the feeling and weight of this book in your hand and the sensation of the thick and textured pages between your fingers is an experience in and of itself. I’ve never commented on the printing quality in a review before, but this warrants a mention.

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

Book Review: Iceberg by Claire Saxby and Jess Racklyeft

By Kaylie Seed

Claire Saxby’s Iceberg: A Life in Seasons is an adorable children’s book that takes young readers on an adventure following an iceberg through its life cycle. The iceberg makes its way through the Antarctic seasons, experiencing all of the beautiful things that this mystical land has to offer. Young readers will have the chance to see different wildlife that call the Antarctic home during the different seasons.

Saxby’s prose is poetic and easy to follow. Though recommended for readers 3-6, older readers will also appreciate this non-fiction book as it sheds light on part of the planet that may not be thought of as somewhere to explore. Saxby’s writing is the perfect length for younger readers while also detailed enough to explore what is happening in each scene. Older readers will be able to ask younger readers questions while also discussing what they see.

Illustrator Jess Racklyeft has brought such vibrancy to a land that we often associate with being desolate. Teaming with wildlife, both Saxby and Racklyeft bring so much wonder to the Antarctic, which is bound to keep young readers wanting to learn more about this cold land. There is a flap that opens up near the middle of the book where readers will be able to see a beautifully designed underwater scene. This was one of my favourite things about Iceberg—it was so delightful and easy to pick out the different animals.

On the last page, Saxby has included more information about the polar regions on Earth and what global warming is doing to these ecosystems. Additionally, a glossary is available for some uncommon words so that older readers can talk to younger readers about what these words mean. Overall, I would highly recommend this to any parent who has a young reader interested in animals or ecosystems, or to those who are wanting to expand their knowledge on what the Earth has to offer.

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

Book Review: How to Hold a Pebble by Jaspreet Singh

By Fayth Simmons

In this collection of poems, Jaspreet Singh provides a narrative stage for an examination of the human in relation to the greater world. Using exploratory form, each of his pieces takes on a differing function to illustrate the place of humans in the continual development of the Anthropocene. The poems touch on the glaring fragility of existence and speak to the visceral understanding of what it means to be a writer in the current age, with the constant grasp of two separate worlds—the visible one, from which inspiration is drawn, and the created one, in which ideas are processed and tossed around before entering into the bounds of the former one.

Singh’s collection is potent, truthful, and emotional. Sorrow and pain infuse narrations on colonization and climate change, and frustration accompanies musings on capitalism, but despite these heavy touchstones, the poems are not hopeless. Singh is able to expertly weave sorrow through lines of quiet joy, and feelings of unrest are considered only in equal measure with feelings of peace and contentment. In this way, the collection is balanced, with clear questions and intentions.

There is a sincere wisdom and beauty to each poem in this collection, which is doubled by the symbolic image of the pebble: ancient, clear, and untameable. The reference to such an object cannot simply be stylistic—instead, Singh asks the reader how they may relearn how to hold the pebble, insinuating a need for a greater degree of thoughtfulness in regard to the human role of stewardship over all things that we have so carefully tied to ourselves and our linear continuum. There is a sharp intellect present here, and an undeniable lyrical sensibility, which transcends from the page and begs to be considered.

Thank you to NeWest Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Lunar Tides by Shannon Webb-Campbell

By Kaylie Seed

Poetry is a genre that I enjoy reviewing because it poses a challenge. It is not an easy task to take the author's inner thoughts and feelings and review them, and poetry is subjective because everyone who reads it will have a different experience. Shannon Webb-Campbell’s Lunar Tides is a collection of poetry that discusses love and grief while structured to follow the phases of the moon. Webb-Campbell’s poetry also explores colonialism, kinship, and Indigenous resurgence through the eyes of a mixed Mi’kmaq-settler woman.

While the focus throughout this poetry collection is on defining what grief and grieving really is, the reader will also note that Webb-Campbell attempts to lay the groundwork for seeking healing. This is important because while the grieving process is something we all have a basic knowledge in, healing is something we don’t put enough effort into understanding. Webb-Campbell also encourages readers to notice their connection to both their mothers (or mother figures) here on Earth as well as Mother Earth and the connection that they pose to each other.

Lunar Tides is a poetry collection that I would recommend to readers looking to explore the meaning of grief and grieving or to those who want a better understanding of how the moon cycles influence us in our daily lives. The poems were not as deep as one may expect since the topics found throughout are heavy, but the prose is lovely to read and those wanting a quick book will likely appreciate these poems.

Thank you, BookHug Press, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Beasts of Ruin by Ayana Gray

By Meghan Mazzaferro

Content warning: violence, gore, racial discrimination, prejudice

For a review of Beasts of Prey, click here.

Beasts of Ruin is Ayana Gray’s second novel, and it kicks off right where Beasts of Prey left off. Secrets have been revealed, the world has been turned upside down, and Koffi and Ekon are separated. Each isolated and dealing with their own dangers, the two must do what they can to stay alive, make it back to each other, and protect the world from a dark god’s evil plans.

Beasts of Prey was one of my favourite books of last year, and a large part of that is the world of Lkossa and the Greater Jungle, and the relationship between Koffi and Ekon. This book took both of those away, setting our two main characters in new settings and with new people, and I’ll admit I was nervous that it might not work. But I really enjoyed the new characters that were introduced and the way both Koffi and Ekon’s stories broadened the world of Eshōza. While the first book had a set goal, its resolution really opened up the story and this book did a great job of setting the tone for the rest of the trilogy.

I do feel like the pacing of the book wasn’t perfect, and Koffi’s story didn’t keep me quite as engaged as I might have liked, but I am very intrigued by where the story is going. Koffi’s story in this book did an excellent job of exploring the magic system in this world, and what she went through in this book will play a major part in what is to come. Ekon’s story, on the other hand, I found very interesting; I loved the characters that he met along the way, and I found this book really deepened his story and forced him to grow and change in a way that was really compelling. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Ekon is one of my favourite male main characters in a YA fantasy book. He’s complicated and flawed and incredibly compelling to read about. I also really enjoyed the third perspective we got in this book. While I can’t say much about it, I feel like it did a really good job of developing the politics of Lkossa and the struggles of Daraja leading up to the events of book one. This perspective really helped explain the choices of some of the characters in the previous book and laid the groundwork for a lot of character motivations in this series that weren’t explored in book one.

Beasts of Ruin does in some ways suffer from the second book slump, in the sense that there’s lots of travelling and things being explained, but the book does an excellent job of setting up what I believe will be an explosive conclusion to the series. As I said previously, the first book in this series had a particular plot that was concluded at the end of that book, and Beasts of Ruin had the unique struggle of massively broadening the world and magic system of this series. With that particular struggle in mind, the book did a very good job of giving the reader all the information we’ll need for the rest of the series while still being engaging and fun. The groundwork has been laid, and I trust Ayana Gray to bring it all home in book three.

While it didn’t grip me quite as much as the first book, I still really enjoyed Beasts of Ruin. Ayana Gray has created a compelling world and magic system, and it’s impossible not to care about our main characters and the things they are fighting to protect. If you’re a YA fantasy fan, this series cannot be missed!

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

Book Review: In The Clouds by Elly MacKay

By Kaylie Seed

When a bored little girl begins using her imagination, she has a bird fly her up into the clouds where she asks questions that young readers may be wondering themselves. In the Clouds by Elly MacKay is a delightful title for ages 5–7 that is intended to get children thinking about the world around them and use their imaginations.

The pages throughout In the Clouds are glossy with soft, muted colours that give a warm feeling to the reader. Each page only has one or two sentences, and most are questions intended to spark a young reader's imagination. While the pages are short, adult readers have the opportunity to ask younger readers the same questions to help build that imagination muscle.

At the end of this adorable book MacKay has added answers to some of the questions that were asked by the young girl throughout In the Clouds. This is such a great way to continue to pique a child’s interest, especially if they have been asking these questions as well. On the last page readers can find an illustration of different clouds so that young readers can learn to identify them on their own.

Thank you to Tundra Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House Canada, for a complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: The Strange Scent of Saffron by Miléna Babin Translated by Oana Avasilichioaei

By Lauren Bell

The Strange Scent of Saffron is a novel by Miléna Babin, originally written in French, and translated by Oana Avasilichioaei. The novel itself is a quick read (160 pages) and follows the story of Nil, a woman travelling alone in a stolen pickup across the lower St. Lawrence.

Nil is a character written as if encased in a hard shell. She’s tough and a little rough on the edges—but is also the type of person who has suffered and understands the suffering of others; in Nil’s case, her trauma comes from her abusive twin brother. When first introduced to Nil and her sketchy circumstances, it is obvious she is running from moments in her past that have left physical and emotional scars. Wanting to know more about her is what grabs the reader in the first chapter.

While Nil’s story is written in third person, the plot also includes the first person perspective of the other primary main character, Jacob, an exhausted restaurant owner who takes Nil in after she “dines and dashes” from his business. Like Nil, Jacob is an elusive character with his own inner demons: loneliness, a reliance on pills, and an incestuous history with his deceased foster sister. The year in which Nil and Jacob’s story is set is 1988, whose philosophies of having a stiff upper lip and “don’t ask, don’t tell” dictate many of the interactions between the characters. The little we know about the two builds the sense similarity and comradery, as well as the sexual tension between them. When Nil discovers that Jacob is involved in saffron trafficking, he has no choice but to include her in his scheme.

Halfway through the novel Babin also introduces Amar’s perspective, a young child participating in his first saffron harvest on his family farm in India. However, I feel like this inclusion happened too late in the book and didn’t add to the main plots at hand.

My feelings towards The Strange Scent of Saffron are mixed. While there were parts of the book I enjoyed—for instance, I thought Babin handled the AIDS crisis very well in the way the stigma and the reality of the illness is addressed in the novel—but was disappointed she chose not to elaborate on other poignant themes such as racism and trauma when she introduced the opportunity to. Moreover, I felt like the majority of the characters in the book had the same storyline of being bored with life and sexually frustrated and it would have been nice if they had more than just this one dimension. I also didn’t like the ending. While I can respect an author’s wish to keep plots unresolved and leave the story open to interpretation, the ending felt like it happened in the middle of the plot, too close to the climax, and thus I have my own difficulties coming to the conclusion of Nil’s fate.

Thank you to Guernica Editions for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.