Review 2325: Homestead

In her research for Homestead, Melinda Moustakis incorporated her grandparents’ stories of homesteading in Alaska. Yes, in 1956, you could still receive a homesteading grant in exchange for working and making a home on the land. That was a surprise to me, too.

Lawrence Beringer is a withdrawn and hard man who has just filed homesteading documents for 150 acres of land when he meets Marie. Marie has traveled from Texas to stay with her sister Sheila and Sheila’s husband Sly with the plan of finding a husband so that she never has to return home. Within hours of meeting each other, Lawrence and Marie are engaged.

The couple live on a bus the first year while Lawrence clears land, plants a crop, and finally builds a cabin. Life is difficult, but for Marie, most difficult is understanding Lawrence, who is very withdrawn. For Lawrence has found he cares too much and must stay away to keep himself together. A miscarriage when Marie is almost at term doesn’t help, especially because Marie understands that her part of the bargain is providing children.

Conditions begin to improve, but even when things are good between them, Lawrence is aware that he’s keeping a secret from Marie.

I felt some distance from both of these characters but found the story fascinating nonetheless. It is written telegraphically, in short, sometimes partial sentences. Despite the descriptions of such activities as plowing, building a cabin, or planting potatoes, this novel is mostly a study of two distinct characters.

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Review 2323: Literary Wives! Mrs. March

Today is another review for the Literary Wives blogging club, in which we discuss the depiction of wives in fiction. If you have read the book, please participate by leaving comments on any of our blogs.

Be sure to read the reviews and comments of the other wives!

This month we welcome a new member, Kate of booksaremyfavoriteandbest! She will join in for the next review in June.

My Review

Set in an undefined time that is probably the 1950s or 60s, Mrs. March is a character study of a woman disintegrating. This all begins at her favorite pastry shop. Mrs. March is a woman highly concerned with appearances. She is married to George March, a writer whose most recent novel is a hit. She is figuratively torn asunder when the shop owner asks her if she minds being depicted in George’s book as the main character, Johanna. Mrs. March hasn’t exactly read the book, but she knows that Johana is an ugly whore whose clients don’t even want to be with her.

Mrs. March immediately becomes obsessed by the idea that he has portrayed her and that everyone is talking about it. She doesn’t read the book, which might be a reasonable reaction, but she destroys a few copies and roots through George’s desk trying to discover his secrets. There she finds an article about a missing teenager in Maine and immediately begins to believe that George, who periodically visits a cabin in the same town, has had something to do with it.

This novel takes a deep look at the psychological behavior of a woman who is unraveling. At times it is darkly funny, sometimes tipping nearly to absurdism. Mrs. March is not likable, her behavior is often outrageous, yet it’s hard to turn away from the page.

What does this book say about wives or about the experience of being a wife?

It’s hard to answer this question, actually, because we don’t see much of George. You have to wonder in the first place what would make George give such an unpleasant character as Johanna all of his wife’s rather distinct mannerisms, especially since most of the time he seems affectionate and soothing to her. Artists can be clueless, but it also seems clear that Mrs. March is so self-obsessed that she is detached from everyone, even her son.

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What does the poor woman have to do all day except clean up things she doesn’t want her maid to see and prance around town in her fur coat shopping? It’s enough to drive anyone mad. Yet is seems that no one is stopping her from doing whatever she wants to except, possibly, the notion of how it would look if she, say, got a job.

And how things look seems to be the dominating force in her life. We get a few glimpses into her childhood where her cold mother taught her this priority.

George has his secrets, but he is really not at all important in this novel. Mrs. March is able to adjust her notion of George instantly, thinking he’s a murderer while preparing his birthday party. What a book!

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Review 2318: Elegy for April

This third of Benjamin Black’s Quirke series begins with Quirke drying out in a clinic. In the city, his daughter, Phoebe Griffin, is worried about her friend, April Latimer, a doctor and the daughter of a powerful family. No one has seen April for some time, and although she has gone away before, Phoebe thinks she would have told her.

Phoebe first goes to Dr. Oscar Latimer, April’s brother, even though she knows April is estranged from her family. Oscar doesn’t seem interested and says April probably ran off.

Phoebe is beginning to believe that April is dead. After Quirke gets out of the clinic, Phoebe turns to him. He talks to his friend Inspector Hackett, and the police eventually find a cleaned up pool of blood next to April’s bed.

The Latimers seem to be more concerned about their family reputation than they are about April and use their connections to get the investigation shut down. In the meantime, Phoebe is falling for Patrick Ojukuru, a Nigerian student in the small group of friends that included April. When Quirke tells her a Black man was seen visiting April, Phoebe denies knowing of any Black man.

Quirke is falling off the wagon with a vengeance, but he continues looking into the case.

An investigator with a drinking problem is such a cliché, but otherwise I find this series set in 1950s Dublin to be well written and interesting.

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Review 2307: The Geometer Lobachevsky

In 1950 Ireland, Soviet citizen Nikolai Lobachevsky has been working in the western bogs, trying to help a team survey the bog lands. He receives a letter from the Soviet government summoning him home to take up a “special assignment.” He knows that probably means execution, so he hides on a remote estuarial island.

Readers who look for a rousing plot aren’t going to find one here. Nothing much happens except for work and exact observations. First, Nikolai is helping with the surveying. Later, he helps farm seaweed. But he is homesick, and once he hears of Stalin’s death, he decides to return to Russia, taking a gamble that Malinkov, for whom he used to work, will pardon him for whatever sins he’s supposed to have committed.

I just felt meh about this novel, which I read for my Walter Scott project. It excels at descriptive passages, but it was hard to know Lobachevsky. Also, I am not that into strictly contemplative novels.

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Review 2305: The Fawn

The Fawn is an unusual novel, narrated as it is by Eszter, who through the entire novel is speaking to another person. Eventually, we understand this is her lover, whose identity is not confirmed until the last half of the book.

The novel moves among scenes from the present and the past, sometimes with no transition, so that I was briefly confused about the when. Eszter grows up very poor. Her parents are from more prosperous roots, her father’s perhaps aristocratic, but his family has thrown them off. Her father is a lawyer but he takes few cases. He is more interested in horticulture and in fact is ailing for most of her life. So, her mother teaches endless piano lessons to support them, and Eszter earns money by tutoring other students and sometimes by stealing. Her life is made harder by her parents’ sufficiency for each other. She feels that they pay no attention to her.

Although Eszter becomes a famous actress with a good income and a nice flat in Budapest, she never forgets or forgives the slights of her childhood. In particular, she hates Angéla, a schoolmate who is beautiful and kind, but whose way is made easy by everyone because she is rich and beautiful. Her bad grades are corrected by the school after visits from her parents. Eszter is happy to see her family leave town after it is disgraced, but Angéla re-emerges after the war, married to the man who becomes Eszter’s lover.

Eszter is a complex character, not likable but someone who still keeps our sympathy. This novel explores the complexity of human relationships. Eszter laments that no one has ever loved her for herself, but she has turned herself into a chameleon—a famous actress who so submerges herself in her roles that on the street no one recognizes her. The Party members refuse to believe her true story when she submits her CV for approval to work at the theater, so she has to reinvent her life to make herself into a reformed aristocrat. Her lover loves her but doesn’t understand her at all.

I found this novel a little difficult at first because it just seemed to be rambling, but the narrative is compelling. Once I really got going, I just wanted to see how it ended.

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Review 2287: In the Country of Others

In the Country of Others tells the fictionalized story of Slimani’s own grandparents during a time of turmoil. During World War II, Amine Belhaj is a Moroccan soldier stationed in the Alsacian region of France. There he meets and marries his French wife Mathilde, and after the war, they go to live in Meknes, Morocco.

Mathilde finds it difficult to adjust to Moroccan life, especially once they move 15 miles out of town to live on the land Amine’s father bought and that he has dreamed of cultivating. Mathilde struggles to fight the total loss of power expected of an Arab wife. Amine can sometimes be physically abusive. Also, he works hard and spends all his time and money on the orchards. Mathilde would like to go into town and have some fun sometime. As what is considered a mixed-race couple, they are mocked on the street.

The narrative shifts mostly to her daughter Aïcha when she is a young girl starting school. Her parents send her to a Catholic school where she is mocked by her French schoolmates. She hates her kinky hair and is terrified when her parents leave her at school the first day.

As it gets into the 50s, the Moroccans move closer to war when France ignores their desire for independence. French people and homes are attacked.

This is a novel about sex and power. Although Mathilda doesn’t want Aïcha to be raised as a submissive woman, she finds herself forcing her sister-in-law Selma into marriage with an old man when Selma is deserted by her young French lover. It is also about power in terms of who will control the country.

It is an interesting story that’s told in a dispassionate way, keeping me from totally identifying with any of the characters. It’s clear toward the end that Aïcha is identifying with the native Moroccans rather than the French, even though she is half and half, but Slimani herself doesn’t seem to take any sides, either in war or in sexual politics, even though she clearly wants more for Moroccan women.

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Review 2249: Murmur

When the cover of a book calls it “hallucinatory,” I know it’s not going to be a good fit for me. However, since Murmur is part of my James Tait Black project, I felt compelled to read it.

The novel aims to portray the mindset of an Alan Turing-like scientist named Alec Pryor after he is undergoing chemical castration because of a homosexual encounter. Aside from making his body more feminine, the chemical makes him dream and eventually induces wakened dream states, including ones where he fantasizes letters from his friend June, whom he hasn’t seen in years, and relives events of his boyhood.

Those who have been reading my reviews know how much I hate reading about dreams. Since it is difficult to know some of the time whether he is dreaming or remembering, this was a novel I found it hard to stick with, despite it being very short.

The rest of the novel is filled with philosophical musings about whether machines could have consciousness and other subjects. I felt that either I didn’t want to follow his thoughts or they were too hard for me to grasp. The journal section at the end is the most accessible part of the novel.

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Review 2227: The Silver Swan

In this second Quirke novel set in 1950s Dublin, Quirke doesn’t do that much investigating, the results of the last case having been hushed up. However, his poking around does stir things up.

Quirke, a pathologist, is contacted by a distraught Billy Hunt, a man he can barely remember from school days. The body of Billy’s wife Deirdre has been discovered naked in the water, assumed drowned. Billy begs Quirke not to perform an autopsy, because he can’t bear the idea of it. Quirke says he’ll do what he can, but he does do an autopsy and finds an injection site in her neck. However, he hides this information, and the coroner brings in a verdict of suicide. Quirke has assumed she took an accidental overdose, but he would like to know more about her, so he lets Detective Inspector Hackett in on enough to know everything is not straightforward.

The novel returns a bit in time to tell the story of Deirdre Hunt, who has been calling herself Laura Swan since she opened a beauty salon called The Silver Swan. Alternately, it follows several characters in the novel’s current time. One of the first things Quirke discovers is that Deirdre was having an affair with her partner, Leslie White, a silver-haired, languid man who affects a style that emphasizes his hair color and paleness. Quirke thinks he is dangerous and is disturbed to find that his daughter, Phoebe, knows him through her slight acquaintance with Deirdre. In fact, she is also drawn to him (although he seems singularly repulsive).

Deirdre has met White through her acquaintance with the mysterious Hakeem Kreutz, who offers “spiritual healing” to women clients and has been instructing Deirdre in Sufism. But she is just visiting him because she’s attracted to the exotic, as she is with White. The connection between the two men is much more complicated.

This novel is dark, with a slow-growing suspense as it reveals more information. It is not really a traditional mystery, but it makes compulsive reading.

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Review 2150: The Bogman

When The Bogman was published in 1952, it was banned in Ireland for indecency. These days, we find little to label it indecent, even if it is partially about a forbidden love.

The novel begins with Cahal Kinsella coming home to a very small village with less than a dozen houses, most of them occupied by older people. Cahal is illegitimate. His grandfather threw his mother out when he was born, and he was raised in an industrial school. Now 16, he has been released from the school and goes to live with his grandfather, Barney.

Barney is a hard man. He is sometimes brutal to Cahal, but Cahal doesn’t mind. He is used to obeying and is happy to belong somewhere. However, this attitude earns him the disdain of Máire Brodel, which will have far-reaching consequences.

Cahal also has the problem that no matter how good his intentions, he is often misunderstood. As he gets older, a series of incidents leads to him losing most of his friends. But his worst misfortune comes when, to get money, Barney arranges a marriage for him at nineteen with a woman in her 40’s.

This is a powerful novel about the hardships of Irish rural life at the time, about the insularity and lack of privacy in a small village, about rumor and gossip, treated as truth even if it’s a lie. According to the introduction by Nuala O’Connor, it is based at least partially on Macken’s own life and experiences.

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Review 2117: Smoke and Mirrors

Best friends Annie Francis and Mark Webster, aged 13, disappear on the way to the candy store. The search for them is disrupted by a snowstorm, so they’re not found for several days, in a shallow ditch with a trail of candy leading to it. DI Edgar Stephens thinks they were meant to be discovered earlier, but the snow prevented it.

The police find that Annie had written plays performed by younger children on a stage at the home of neighbor Brian Baxter. The early plays were innocuous, but by all accounts the latest is darker. Annie has shown an interest in the real German fairy tales with dark plot lines. Her newest play is called The Stolen Children.

Edgar’s friend Max Mephisto is performing in a pantomime in town, and through him, Edgar hears of a similar murder that took place in 1917. It seems an odd coincidence that some of the older pantomime performers were in town at the time. The murderer was caught and is dead, but could there be a connection?

Edgar gets a call from Daphne Young, a teacher who was helping Annie with her play, saying she’s discovered something. But she is also found murdered before he can talk to her.

I don’t seem to be getting as involved with the Brighton series, set in the 1950’s, as I have with Griffith’s Ruth Galloway or Harbinder Kauer books. However, I like the vaudeville theme and am willing to stick with it for a bit.

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