JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

Wearing Paper Dresses by Anne Brinsden

You can talk about living in the Mallee. And you can talk about a Mallee tree. And you can talk about the Mallee itself: a land and a place full of red sand and short stubby trees. Silent skies. The undulating scorch of summer plains. Quiet, on the surface of things.

But Elise wasn’t from the Mallee, and she knew nothing of its ways.

Discover the world of a small homestead perched on the sunburnt farmland of northern Victoria. Meet Elise, whose urbane 1950s glamour is rudely transplanted to the pragmatic red soil of the Mallee when her husband returns to work the family farm. But you cannot uproot a plant and expect it to thrive.

And so it is with Elise. Her meringues don’t impress the shearers, the locals scoff at her Paris fashions, her husband works all day in the back paddock, and the drought kills everything but the geraniums she despises.

As their mother withdraws more and more into herself, her spirited, tearaway daughters, Marjorie and Ruby, wild as weeds, are left to raise themselves as best they can. Until tragedy strikes, and Marjorie flees to the city determined to leave her family behind. And there she stays, leading a very different life, until the boy she loves draws her back to the land she can’t forget…

Wearing Paper Dresses is a debut literary novel from Australian author Anne Brinsden, set in rural Mallee in the 1950s, which explores notions of family, land, mental illness and responsibility.

Glamorous, sophisticated, talented Elise leaves the city and moves with her two children and her husband to her father-in-law’s wheat and sheep farm in Mallee. The townsfolk are instantly suspicious of her and her ‘city’ ways. She drinks coffee and not tea and she doesn’t understand what it’s like to live in such a harsh environment.

Most of the novel is from the POV of Elise’s daughter Marjorie, and over the years, we witness Elise’s mental health deteriorate. She starts talking to plastic flowers and wearing tea cosies on her head. Her husband and father-in-law acknowledge her health but pretend to ignore it; they assume it’ll solve itself. Wearing Paper Dresses highlights how poorly mental illness was received in the 1950s.

“The talk might have stopped but the hint of a glittery look didn’t. The tea in the teapot went cold from then on. But naked teapots and cold tea didn’t bother Elise because she drank coffee — and coffee percolators didn’t generally dress themselves in cosies.”

Through Marjorie’s perspective, we experience the hurt, confusion and the embarrassment that she feels growing up. But we also witness the solid bond she forms with her sister Ruby, and there’s definitely a strong sense of camaraderie there as they both work together to get through their mother’s troubling illness and the effect it has on their childhood.

This book certainly wasn’t what I expected it to be, after reading the blurb and looking at the cover. I anticipated this to be a chick-lit, perhaps a rural romance novel. And whilst there’s an element of romance in this book between Marjorie and one of the boys in her class, this book is about the relationship between Marjorie and her family, and about the events that lead to Elise’s many nervous breakdowns.

Wearing Paper Dresses is as much a character-driven novel as it is plot-driven. I was pleasantly surprised by this book, and found myself enchanted by the setting, the characters, and the plot. Whilst the book explores difficult themes such as mental illness and domestic abuse, you can’t help but fall in love with the characters.

“Marjorie stayed home from school after that and helped Elise. They dug and raked and swept. And Elise was alive and burning with energy. Their waking hours were consumed with garden making. They piled red dirt into neat garden beds all over the yard, Marjorie imaging all the while the rose garden to come.”

The setting is one of the strengths of the novel — Anne has perfectly captured the harsh, sunburnt landscape of the Mallee, and it’s easy to imagine just how difficult life would be like for Elise and her family. The setting feels incredibly isolating, but also claustrophobic at the same time, a juxtaposition that evokes great unease for most of the novel.

The writing is lyrical, funny and descriptive, the imagery drawing you in and holding you hostage with enticing vocabulary and prose. The pacing is on point — authentic and realistic to the storyline. Wearing Paper Dresses is an impressive debut.

Recommended for literary fiction readers, and those readers who love a rural setting. Fans of historical fiction will also find much to love about this book.

Thank you to the publisher for sending me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Wearing Paper Dresses
Anne Brinsden
October 2019
Pan Macmillan Publishers

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

The mesmerising adult debut from Leigh Bardugo. A tale of power, privilege, dark magic and murder set among the Ivy League elite. Alex Stern is the most unlikely member of Yale’s freshman class. A dropout and the sole survivor of a horrific, unsolved crime – the last thing she wants is to cause trouble. Not when Yale was supposed to be her fresh start. But a free ride to one of the world’s most prestigious universities was bound to come with a catch.

Alex has been tasked with monitoring the mysterious activities of Yale’s secret societies – societies that have yielded some of the most famous and influential people in the world. Now there’s a dead girl on campus and Alex seems to be the only person who won’t accept the neat answer the police and campus administration have come up with for her murder.

Because Alex knows the secret societies are far more sinister and extraordinary than anyone ever imagined.

They tamper with forbidden magic. They raise the dead. And, sometimes, they prey on the living . . .

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo is an adult fantasy novel, and the first in a new series with protagonist Alex Stern.

Alex Stern is recruited to work for the mysterious and secretive Lethe society at Yale simply because she can see ghosts. Her job is to the oversee the other secret societies at the college, and make sure their rituals and practices are above board. When a young girl is murdered on campus grounds, Alex endeavours to uncover who murdered her and why.

The world is original and intriguing — at its core, it’s about a girl who needs to heal from her past. Alex Stern can see ghosts and she’s had some horrible trauma throughout her childhood/teenage years. This book is also about revenge, murder, conspiracy theories, magic, power, and secret societies at Yale university that work with magic.

“If they could find him. If they could somehow bring him home from whatever dark place he’d gone. In less than a week they’d attempt the new-moon rite. Alex didn’t understand the specifics, only that Dean Sandow believed it would work and that, until it did, her job was to make sure that no one asked too many questions about Lethe’s missing golden boy.”

After browsing all of the glowing reviews for this title, I definitely think there’s some sort of disconnect between me and this book. I thought it was…fine. I read it, enjoyed it, and finished it. Did I think it was exceptional? No. Was I underwhelmed after reading all the pre-publication buzz? Yes.

There is a distinct lack of introduction to the world, or credible world-building. Alex Stern has the rare ability to see Grays — ghosts who have yet to move on from their time on earth — and we’re thrown head first into this fantasy world with very little explanation. I had to reread chapters 1 and 2, twice.

The pacing is also incredibly slow throughout the book, and I’m not sure that the plot holds enough tension to justify the slow pacing.

“A cluster of Grays was mulling around by the gym. Alex let her eyes skim over them, landing nowhere, barely focused. A few were local Grays who could always be found in the area, a rower who had drowned off the Florida Keys but who now returned to haunt the training tanks, a heavyset man who had clearly once been a football player.”

Characterisation is a strength of the book — Alex is a high school dropout, drug addict, and her best friend recently died under suspicious circumstances. Her relationship with her mother is fractured, and her grades at Yale so far have been sub par. Her time at Yale helps her understand her gift — to trust it — and over the course of the novel, she grows and matures and comes to understand who she is as a person.

There’s a particularly fantastic moment in the book when Alex gets revenge on a sexist, abusive college boy called Blake — this could well be my favourite plot point in Ninth House. Lips are sealed!

Leigh’s language and prose is another strength in the book — the sentences feel decadent, indulgent, and inviting.

“As Darlington had known they would, the Grays began to appear, drifting through the walls, drawn by blood and hope. When at last the blood tide reached the end of the parchment, the Aurelians each lowered their sleeves, letting them brush the soaked paper.”

You’ve really got to love fantasy to read Ninth House. You’re thrust into a world with very little explanation, and to wade through that and continue on, you need to love the genre. Otherwise, you’ll just leave this book incomplete.

Personally, I thought this was just okay. I liked the twists at the end, and how it opened up for the sequel, but I felt quite let down with the book as a whole.

Recommended for fantasy lovers, 18+. This book is very dark, and deals with mature themes — rape, sexual assault, murder, suicide, drug overdose, self-harm — and is not recommended for children or young adults under the age of 18.

Thank you to the publisher for sending me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Ninth House
Leigh Bardugo
October 2019
Hachette Book Publishers

The Institute by Stephen King

Deep in the woods of Maine, there is a dark state facility where kids, abducted from across the United States, are incarcerated. In the Institute they are subjected to a series of tests and procedures meant to combine their exceptional gifts – telepathy, telekinesis – for concentrated effect.

Luke Ellis is the latest recruit. He’s just a regular 12-year-old, except he’s not just smart, he’s super-smart. And he has another gift which the Institute wants to use…

But great events can turn on small hinges and Luke is about to team up with a new, even younger recruit, Avery Dixon, whose ability to read minds is off the scale. While the Institute may want to harness their powers for covert ends, the combined intelligence of Luke and Avery is beyond anything that even those who run the experiments – even the infamous Mrs Sigsby – suspect.

Far away in a small town in South Carolina, former cop Tim Jamieson has taken a job working for the local sheriff. He’s basically just walking the beat. But he’s about to take on the biggest case of his career.

Suspenseful and gutsy, The Institute is the latest horror novel from Stephen King, this time set within the walls of a facility tasked with testing children who show extraordinary abilities.

Hidden deep inside the American forest, more specifically in Maine, the organisation is responsible for kidnapping hundreds of children across the United States — shortly after killing their parents — and keeping them contained in the facility while they force them to undergo terrifying and sometimes painful tests.

The book begins with ex-cop Tim Jamieson, a loner who lost his job years earlier in an unfortunate incident. He arrives in DuPray, South Carolina and accepts a job working for the local Sheriff. Before too long, the POV shifts and we spend the bulk of the book following Luke Ellis’ story. He’s a twelve year old boy who is that latest kidnapping victim of the institute. Before too long, Luke and Tim’s stories will intersect.

“He ordinarily didn’t show off — it was the worst way in the world to win friends and influence people — but he was upset, confused, worried, and (might as well admit it) scared shitless. It was getting harder and harder not to label this experience with the word kidnapping.”

The Institute evokes ‘Stranger Things’ vibes and brings really incredible characters to life. All of the children at the facility are unique and three-dimensional, and the antagonists of the institute are all genuinely terrifying and believable as villains.

At its core, this book is about the power that children contain when they come together — when they combine forces and utilise their potential. This sounds like a preach, but Stephen King achieves this rather well, and the messages of the book are incredibly subtle.

“Gladys was small and pretty, but for all Luke knew, she was a black belt who could throw him over her shoulder if he gave her any trouble. Even if she wasn’t, they were watching, and he had no doubt reinforcements would show up in a hurry.”

Structurally, I think the novel is flawed. The pacing is appropriate and realistic for the first three quarters of the book, but then everything happens quickly and the conclusion of the book feels rushed.

Additionally, the book is so long that by the time you get to the conclusion you’re pretty exhausted and ready for it to finish.

“The ice machine. Where Maureen had spoken to him yesterday. That was sort of interesting. According to Kalisha, there were several places in Front Half where the audio surveillance worked poorly or not at all, but Maureen seemed to favour that one.”

Not overly violent, so suitable for young and old readers. Fans of horror and thriller will love this, as will Stephen King’s existing fans.

Recommended 14+

Thank you to the publisher for sending me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

The Institute
Stephen King
September 2019
Hachette Book Publishers

Bruny by Heather Rose

In a world where a right-wing US president has withdrawn America from the Middle East and the UN, and Daesh has a thoroughfare to the sea, even the most far-flung corners of the earth can’t escape global change.

When a bomb goes off in remote Tasmania and destroys part of the Bruny Bridge, UN troubleshooter Astrid Coleman returns home to help her brother prepare for the upcoming election. What she doesn’t expect is the true extent of the conspiracy theories that have engulfed her community, amidst the conflict of her brother and sister — who are on opposite sides of politics.

Only on Bruny does the world seem sane. Until Astrid discovers how far the government is willing to go.

Bruny by Heather Rose is a political thriller about family, relationships, responsibility, and order.

Set on Tasmania’s Bruny Island, the book begins after the almost-complete Bruny Bridge is blown up in the early hours of the morning. Shocked but undeterred, the Tasmanian government want that bridge to remain a top priority and are not being deterred by the terrorist act; they do all that they can to ensure the infrastructure project stays on track, and their actions could have disastrous consequences.

The premise of the novel invites intrigue, suspense and tension. Some events and conversations in Bruny reflect the current political climate in Australia, allowing readers to feel a sense of understanding and dread at what could potentially occur as we near the conclusion.

“Farris bought the property at the end of the beach a year before the bridge project was announced. He’d thought he was retiring from world to work on his next great tome on the human species. But then people began crawling over his little bit of paradise.”

Astrid Coleman is a complex protagonist — her relationship with her mother is fractured, perhaps beyond repair; her father is incredibly unwell and now only speaks in Shakespearean, and she’s still recovering from her divorce with her ex-husband, Ben. Reflections on the past highlight the deprecating treatment she received from him — it had a damaging impact on her self-esteem and her self-worth but she’s now doing much better.

Additionally, her relationship with her siblings is at times fraught because they’re on opposite political sides and Astrid often feels she’s caught in the middle. The book features a touch of romance, enough for it to blend well with the rest of the book, but not too much where you feel it detracts from the overarching plot and themes in the book.

“I knew Mick Feltham had been offered a huge bonus for meeting the bridge deadline by JC, following that meeting with Aid-n-Abet. There were also penalties for any day it went over.”

Heather’s strengths lie in her vocabulary choice, her sentence structure, her ability to put together magnificent prose and relatable, believable and entertaining dialogue. The imagery and descriptive language is evocative, drawing the reader in and keeping them engaged throughout.

“Tasmanians are island people, Bruny Islanders even more so. It’s a very different identity to that of someone from American Midwest, the mountains of Europe, the veldts of Africa. There is always the awareness that we are somehow water-bound and water-dependent. The water is friend and foe.”

Here’s something you don’t really grasp from the blurb — the book is incredibly political. For some readers, it may be too political and this may affect their ability to finish the book. Personally, a lot of the political discussions went way over my ahead and I found it quite disorientating. I went along for the ride, but I didn’t really understand what was going on — I didn’t really understand the stakes that were at play.

The majority of the book is incredibly slow-paced, and there are some chapters where nothing really happens in the present and it’s all a reflection on past events. The climax of the book, though, is fast-paced, heated, incredible and interesting. But by then it feels a little late — it seems like a jolt because the pacing changes so quickly and you’re not quite ready for it. I just don’t know that all readers will stick around long enough to get to the climax.

Bruny is for seasoned readers who are aware they’re headed into a political thriller novel. People who don’t read very often? This isn’t for them. People who read a lot of literary fiction or political thrillers? They’ll love this.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Bruny
Heather Rose
October 2019
Allen & Unwin Publishers

The Confession by Jessie Burton

One winter’s afternoon on Hampstead Heath in 1980, Elise Morceau meets Constance Holden and quickly falls under her spell. Connie is bold and alluring, a successful writer whose novel is being turned into a major Hollywood film. Elise follows Connie to LA, a city of strange dreams and swimming pools and late-night gatherings of glamorous people. But whilst Connie thrives on the heat and electricity of this new world where everyone is reaching for the stars and no one is telling the truth, Elise finds herself floundering. When she overhears a conversation at a party that turns everything on its head, Elise makes an impulsive decision that will change her life forever.

Three decades later, Rose Simmons is seeking answers about her mother, who disappeared when she was a baby. Having learned that the last person to see her was Constance Holden, a reclusive novelist who withdrew from public life at the peak of her fame, Rose is drawn to the door of Connie’s imposing house in search of a confession …

The Confession by Jessie Burton is an intimate, moving novel about the power of women, and their relationship with each other. In a letter accompanying the book, Jessie acknowledges that the book is about the physical, psychological and spiritual autonomy of women —it explores love, sex, friendship, family and work, and how these things are vital to a woman’s self-esteem and sense of self. The Confession, in many ways, is an exploration of female identity.

The book follows a dual timeline, switching back and forth between 1980s, when Elise and Connie’s paths cross, to decades later in 2017, when Elise’s daughter Rose is on a desperate search to find her mother.

Elise is beautiful, young and naive — too trusting, but also desperate for love and connection. She meets the much older Constance Holden, who is bold and confident, sure of herself and charismatic. Constance is a writer whose novel is about to be turned into a Hollywood film, and when the two being a relationship, Elise follows Connie to Los Angeles.

“Elise closed her eyes and thought about how, at dinner parties, there are always other conversations not being shared. Matt and Shara and their unseen baby, lost like a ghost inside their marriage. Elise wondered whether there was any pain left in Shara’s body now, or whether it was just in her head, an occasional guest who led her down a staircase that only she could tread.”

Elise is easily overwhelmed once she moves to Los Angeles. Connie grows a bit distant and their relationship grows strained. Soon, Elise is finding comfort in someone else’s arms — someone she shouldn’t be pursuing.

In present day 2017, Rose wants to track down her missing mother. Elise abandoned Rose and her father when she was very little, and no one has heard from her since. Does Connie know? Rose creates an alias and takes a job as Connie’s assistant, working quickly to find out what happened to Elise all those years ago.

“Connie’s eyes were moist, her gnarled fingers resting on either arm of the chair as if it was a throne. She’d spoken so much, unpacking herself, and she looked exhausted. I watched as her face folded slowly into a picture of sadness. I wanted to go to her, to comfort her, to tell her that my mother was in this room, an old love, an invisible thread, trying together the ones she’d left behind.”

The three women are incredibly complex — we meet them all intimately over the course of the novel. We see them in private moments, when they’re scared or challenged. We witness their weakest moments and their strongest.

Characterisation is one of the strengths of the novel, taking us deep inside the minds and motivations of Elise, Connie and Rose. They’re all so unique and their voices so distinct — Jessie has done an exceptional job of capturing each of their personalities so vividly.

“An electric sense of my skin, my hands and feet. I did not feel triumphant. But I did, in an interesting way, feel more free. To be always waiting and wanting had been my most natural state to be. To be yearning for something, rather than having the guts to make it real.”

The Confession is a fabulous, luminous read, tackling friendship, women, motherhood, parenting and the complexities of relationships. Fans of literary fiction, women’s fiction, and the importance of strong, female-led stories will love this. I haven’t yet read Jessie Burton’s previous works but now I plan to go out and buy her books. Her writing is seamless and evocative — her sentences structure flawless.

Highly recommend.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

The Confession
Jessie Burton
October 2019
Pan Macmillan Publishers

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