JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

Any Way the Wind Blows by Rainbow Rowell

In Carry On, Simon Snow and his friends realized that everything they thought they understood about the world might be wrong. And in Wayward Son, they wondered whether everything they understood about themselves might be wrong.

In Any Way the Wind Blows, Simon and Baz and Penelope and Agatha have to decide how to move forward.

For Simon, that means deciding whether he still wants to be part of the World of Mages — and if he doesn’t, what does that mean for his relationship with Baz? Meanwhile Baz is bouncing between two family crises and not finding any time to talk to anyone about his newfound vampire knowledge. Penelope would love to help, but she’s smuggled a cursed American Normal into London, and now she isn’t sure what to do with him. And Agatha? Well, Agatha Wellbelove has had enough.

Any Way the Wind Blows takes the gang back to England, back to Watford, and back to their families for their longest and most emotionally wrenching adventure yet. This book is a finale. It tells secrets and answers questions and lays ghosts to rest.

The third and final book in this young adult trilogy, Rainbow Rowell’s Any Way the Wind Blows brings Simon and Baz’s story to a close. It provides closure for Simon’s origin story, as well as the other characters we’ve met along the way.

Strengths include humour and wit, and the existence of magic in the story and how it develops over the course of the novel. Interpersonal relationships and emotional intelligence is also another strength, as characters start to cross paths again and are forced to confront deep-rooted insecurities.

“I thought maybe Snow didn’t want to share a bed with me because he was afraid I’d bite him in my sleep. But apparently that’s fine! Bloodletting is fine – intimacy is the real taboo!”

This final book in the series will please fans of the series who have been holding out for some Simon and Baz romance. But to be perfectly honest, this book has a pretty non-existent plot. It feels like it’s been written purely to serve the fans, and it wasn’t necessarily written because it needed to be. Hardly anything happens, and the novel is mainly driven by dialogue. The mystery comes in quite late in the novel and is solved rather fast. The ‘villain’ in the book doesn’t hold enough presence in the novel, and is not intimidating enough for his role.

The best part of the book is the moments of humour peppered throughout the chapter, but they’re few and far in between. And the novel moves between so many different characters, it gives a bit of whiplash. I feel like those who have read the first two books will be interested in seeing how it ends, and the writing is certainly accessible enough to make reading this quite easy, but overall, this is quite a disappointing conclusion. The plot was so limited it actually felt like book 2 in a trilogy.

“It wasn’t quite like that. I didn’t chicken out. It was more like I got overwhelmed. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Baz had said and how I needed to talk to him. Immediately, it felt like some window was closing. It was probably already closed, and I’d need to break it open.”

There were certain elements of the characterisation that didn’t quite ring true. Baz and Simon are really horny for each other in this, which is fine, but a lot of the book is about Simon trying to mature and have a real relationship and the introspection feels fleeting and overlooked at times. Any moments of tension or clashing pass over so quickly, you wonder why they had to happen in the first place.

Also, if my memory serves me correctly, Simon was quite anxious and shy about his feelings for Baz in previous books. And in this book, he’s gone from 0-100?

“The good thing about my aunt’s terrible flat is that I can do some light hunting without even leaving the building. I just have to dispose of the empty rodents when I’m done.”

For readers who are up to date with the trilogy, it’s nice to see how the story ends. But this is not the explosive finale that I anticipated. Readership skews female, 14+

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

Any Way the Wind Blows (Simon Snow #3)
Rainbow Rowell
July 2021
Pan Macmillan Book Publishers

My Daughter’s Wedding by Gretel Killeen

Nora Fawn’s daughter, Hope, disappeared four years ago. Nora has never known why. Refusing to answer her mother’s calls, emails or texts, Hope maintained contact only with her big sister, Joy. Having once considered her mothering to be the greatest achievement of her life, Nora’s spent these Hope-less years searching, aching, mother-guilting, working for a famous yet talentless artist and avoiding her own emotionally repressed mother, Daphne.

But … last night Hope rang out of the blue to say, ‘I’m coming home, I’m getting married, the wedding is in three weeks and it’s your job to organise it.’ Desperate to prove her worth as a mother and regain her daughter’s love, Nora commits to the task – assisted by her own increasingly dementia’d mother and her two best friends, Soula (an amateur bikini-line waxer) and Thilma (whom they found in a cab in the 1980s).

Contemporary women’s fiction about three generations of mother-daughter love, Gretel Killeen’s My Daughter’s Wedding is a fast-paced exploration into the complex family dynamics between women, and how broken relationships can always be mended.

I liked the structure of the novel, and the premise. My Daughter’s Wedding is formatted as a diary entry, which feels instantly accessible. You’re placed right in the centre of the action, and you’re involved in the journey the entire way. The concept of the estranged daughter allows Nora to reflect on her past mistakes, and we also witness a lot of similarities between Nora and her own mother.

The book is filled with a large cast of eccentric characters, all with interesting backstories and tiny quirks that make them memorable. This definitely feels similar to Gretel’s other fictional works — all quite out-of-this-world, wacky tales.

“Yes, it was after all that, when I was looking for Hope’s birth certificate in preparation for registering her wedding, that I found you, Dear Diary. And it was then that I decided to quietly start writing in you over the forthcoming wedding week as evidence of how perfectly I’ve behaved should anything untoward come to pass and anyone/everyone try to blame me.”

Unfortunately, this book didn’t live up to its potential. Yes, it’s a unique, funky story. No doubt about it. But I felt that the characterisation and the growth that’s required in a novel — even a comedic one — just wasn’t present in this. I think Gretel was going for a mad cap adventure, but the main character is in her 50s and the readership are adults and I’m just not sure that it works. No spoilers, but the entire storyline/premise about Aspen was too over-the-top to be enjoyable.

“I didn’t know what to say. Mum has always been great at winning arguments with me but appalling at confronting what we’re actually arguing about. I can’t blame her, I’m guilty of this too. I obfuscate and pussyfoot and hedge around the subject, for fear in fact of exactly what happened just now, an argument that leaves Mum feeling victorious and me feeling violated.”

Admittedly, I just didn’t find this book as humorous as the blurb suggested. There were a few chuckles, but mainly, I found the voice to be quite impenetrable. Nora is supposed to be in her 50s but she reads like an adolescent — stream of consciousness, scatty, unfocused, and just a little too silly to be believable as a character.

Additionally, the plot gets more absurd as the book goes on. There are commendable moments of depth, and character development, but the absurdity of the storyline seemingly dilutes these profound, notable aspects in the book. And the pacing is so quick, there isn’t really enough time to get to the know the characters, and so you don’t really find yourself warming to them.

“It’s been said that a mother is only as happy as her unhappiest child. I know this to be true. When a woman becomes a mother she loses all emotional independence. And this can never be changed. The umbilical cord is never cut. The scissors just make it invisible.”

A very light read. Recommended as a beach read, or an airport purchase.

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

My Daughter’s Wedding
Gretel Killeen
February 2021
Hachette Book Publishers

Sex and Vanity by Kevin Kwan

The iconic author of the bestselling phenomenon Crazy Rich Asians returns with the glittering tale of a young woman who finds herself torn between two men.

On her very first morning on the jewel-like island of Capri, Lucie Churchill sets eyes on George Zao and she instantly can’t stand him. She can’t stand it when he gallantly offers to trade hotel rooms with her so that she can have a view of the Tyrrhenian Sea, she can’t stand that he knows more about Casa Malaparte than she does, and she really can’t stand it when he kisses her in the darkness of the ancient ruins of a Roman villa.

The daughter of an American-born Chinese mother and a blue-blooded New York father, Lucie has always sublimated the Asian side of herself, and she adamantly denies having feelings for George. But several years later, when George unexpectedly appears in East Hampton, where Lucie is weekending with her new fiancé, she finds herself drawn to him again. Soon, Lucie is spinning a web of deceit that involves her family, her fiancé and ultimately herself, as she tries to deny George entry into her world – and her heart.

Kevin Kwan’s Sex and Vanity is a modern retelling of A Room With a View, a decadent love story between the wealthy and elite. With a large cast of Asian characters, the novel spans across Italy and America.

Whilst I’m familiar with Kevin Kwan’s previous works, including Crazy Rich Asians, I’m not familiar with A Room With a View .Truthfully, I’ve never read the book nor seen the movie.

Sex and Vanity, much like Kwan’s previous works, sarcastically pokes fun at the uber-rich. However, it falls short of making a lasting impact on the reader. The story is slow at times and I found myself quite bored through the middle. Lucie is not nearly as likeable or as relatable as she could’ve been and George feels quite scarce in the story (strange, considering he’s the love interest). There are some scenes where there are so many characters talking I got confused about what was happening and had to retrace my steps and reread.

Lucie’s relationship with Cecil never makes much sense, and I never got a strong sense of her connection to George. I certainly couldn’t understand why she felt so reluctant to admit her feelings for George. By the time we get to the end of the book, the build-up to Lucie and George’s reunion is completely skipped over. I felt cheated.

“Lucie reached for the crystal goblet in front of her. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but if she had to endure this inquisition for another three courses, she might as well get completely shit-faced.”

There are some notable strengths in the book. George’s mother Mrs Zao is one of the best characters — she steals the attention in every scene in which she appears. Additionally, the insufferable Cecil Pike is also entertaining. His dialogue is quick and witty, and despite him feeling like a caricature and therefore wildly un-relatable, I did enjoy reading about him.

The atmosphere is also fun and engaging. Wealth touches every aspect of the characters’ lives, from their accommodation and their holidays, to their choice of cars and jewellery.

We first meet the characters at an exorbitant wedding in Capri — it’s expensive, over-the-top and there’s a wildly embarrassing incident involving a drone. We’re then whisked away to New York five years later, where Lucie is being proposed to through flash mob dance.

“Lucie said nothing for a moment. She thought of how trivial those sandals had suddenly become to her. In the course of one afternoon, everything had changed. In the blink of an eye, someone had died.”

For a book called Sex and Vanity, there’s not a whole lot of sex happening.

I would’ve liked the romance between Lucie and George to be more present in the book. They’re together briefly in the beginning, but then when we skip forward to New York Lucie is engaged to someone else and her path only collides with George’s sparingly. As a result, their romance just doesn’t feel overly captivating.

“Scanning the cards, Lucie saw that she was assigned to table 3. Almost reflexively, she found herself searching for George’s card and saw that he was at table 8. Damn, was this going to be yet another night where they wouldn’t have the chance to talk at all?”

To be completely honest, it just didn’t feel like this novel explored anything deeper than a romance between two rich people. There’s brief mentions of the difficulties being mixed race, but it’s a very minor mention and other than that, the novel falls flat of more substance.

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

Sex and Vanity
Kevin Kwan
July 2020
Penguin Random House Publishers

The Talking Cure by Professor Gillian Straker and Dr Jacqui Winship

The essence of successful therapy is the relationship between the therapist and the patient, a dance of growing trust and understanding. It is an intimate, messy, often surprising and sometimes confusing business -but when it works, it’s life-changing.

In The Talking Cure, psychotherapists Gill Straker and Jacqui Winship bring us nine inspiring stories of transformation.

They introduce us to their clients, fictional amalgams of real-life cases, and reveal how the art of talking and listening helps us to understand deep-seated issues that profoundly influence who we are in the world and how we see ourselves in relation to others. We come to understand that the transformative power of the therapeutic relationship can be replicated in our everyday lives by the simple practice of paying attention and being present with those we love.

Whether you have experienced therapy (or are tempted to try it), or you are just intrigued by the possibilities of a little-understood but transformative process, this wise and compassionate book will deepen your sense of what it is to be open to connection – and your appreciation that to be human is to be a little bit mad.

The Talking Cure by Professor Gillian Straker and Dr Jacqui Winship brings together eight common struggles brought to therapists.

In each chapter, we meet a different patient with a very different issue that they’re struggling with, and Gillian and Jacqui track their progress and break down their struggles for the reader. Whilst each story in this book is fictional — for confidentiality reasons — the patients are an amalgamation of real patients that exist in the world.

Each hidden struggle in the book is something that is commonly experienced by people within — and outside — of a therapist’s office, including difficult children, closed-off boyfriends, spouses shaken by an unexpected affair, people-pleasers, and more.

It’s quite surprising to recognise yourself in some of these patients. You find yourself genuinely fascinated to see some of your own behaviour in these fictional people, and you can’t help but glimpse the checklist at the end of each chapter to see how much of that ‘category’ you might fit into.

“Meredith had spent so much time thinking about Jade, and imagining her needs and wishes, that her capacity to observe and see her daughter’s actual needs and wishes was impaired. Jade had become a creation of Meredith’s own making.”

Insightful and interesting, The Talking Cure will entice many adult readers interested in learning more about psychology of humans. Don’t try to diagnose yourself with this book though. As I’ve mentioned, the stories in each of the chapters are fictitious and the checklists are merely there as a guide, so take this experience with a grain of salt.

“As I sat in the room with Charlene I experienced her loneliness. Yet even as she was sharing her distress, I felt strangely unmoved. I didn’t feel invited into her world. I felt spoken at rather than spoken to; it seemed to me that I was being asked to bear witness to a story Charlene was telling, but I was prohibited from participating in a dialogue with her.”

Admittedly, The Talking Cure feels a little formulaic after a while. You meet the patient, the psychiatrist reflects on what the ‘struggle’ is and what its effect is, the psychiatrist asks about their childhood and determines that their relationship with their parents and/or siblings explains how they are now, the psychiatrist asks questions to make the patient realise this on their own, and then there’s a checklist for readers to follow. It’s obviously part of the process, but to be completely honest, I was a bit bored by the 5th or 6th chapter.

Additionally, I found Gillian and Jacqui to be incredibly cold in their exchange with the patients (or at least their documented exchange), and truthfully, I never felt that I warmed to either of them throughout the book. There’s something removed about reading these stories, where you never really feel like you’re ‘there’. You feel like a fly on the wall, and sometimes it’s not that interesting.

I’d recommend this book to adult readers who are genuinely interested in the psychology of the human experience, but if you need a little guidance or help with your life, I don’t think this is the first book you should pick up in your journey.

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

The Talking Cure: Normal people, their hidden struggles and the life-changing power of therapy
Professor Gillian Straker and Dr Jacqui Winship
June 2019
Pan Macmillan Publishers

We Hunt the Flame by Hafsah Faizal

Zafira is the Hunter, disguising herself as a man to brave the cursed forest of the Arz to feed her people.

Nasir is the Prince of Death, assassinating those foolish enough to defy his autocratic father, the king.

If Zafira was exposed as a girl, her achievements would be rejected; if Nasir displayed compassion, his father would brutally punish him. War is brewing in Arawiya, and when Zafira embarks on a quest to uncover an artifact that can restore magic and stop the Arz, Nasir is sent by the king on a similar mission: retrieve the artifact and kill the Hunter. But an ancient evil stirs-and the prize they seek poses a threat greater than either can imagine.

We Hunt the Flame by Hafsah Faizal is the first book in a new fantasy series set in the fictional, once-magical country called Arawiya — inspired by the Middle East and ancient Arabia. The book is about conquering fear and taking identity into your own hands.

Zafira is a hunter who disguises herself as a man every time she enters the Arz — a dark, dangerous and cursed forest where people have gone missing or deranged. Everyone else avoids the forest, but Zafira hunts inside it to provide for her family, friends and village, and to support herself.

Nasir is a Prince and an assassin, and he’s very good. He’s the son of the cruel and horrid Sultan and Nasir does his father’s bidding without ever questioning his actions or his father’s motives. In a way, he seems to have been brainwashed by his father.

“Nasir took the weapons on his person, along with a rucksack containing a few provisions and a change of clothes. He expected this journey to be quick, no longer than a few weeks. Head straight through the Arz, sail to Sharr, follow the Hunter, and bring back the lost Jawarat.”

I had such high hopes for this book, and I’ve been looking forward to it for months. And whilst the premise is intriguing enough and the characters readable, the pacing is a huge letdown. Zafira and Nasir are given a task right at the beginning of a book — they must hunt down a lost artefact that will restore magic to the land, rid the world of evil, and destroy the cursed Arz forest — but then not much happens for the first half of the book. There’s so much dialogue and so much banter, but not a lot of action or plot.

The prose is a bit up and down — sometimes it’s wonderful, lyrical, beautiful. Other times it’s jilted and awkward, and a little too forced. I think perhaps the story was overwritten and needed a good stripping back in the editing stage.

Additionally, the book is told with dual perspectives and most chapters are really short. There’ll be a tense moment in Zafira’s perspective, and then when we get to a heightened moment, the chapter ends and the POV switches to Nasir. It’s a bit jolting and uncomfortable for the reader, and I think the structure could’ve been improved for a better reading experience.

“Her pulse quickened. Against reason, she wanted to go on the quest. To claim this victory for herself. At the very least, she wanted answers. Could a book really bring back magic? Was the caliph involved? He wasn’t bad. If, somehow, he found out she was a woman, she would find her way around. He wouldn’t chop off her head.”

Grief is a strong theme in the book. Zafira’s father went crazy in the Arz and it led to his death, and she’s still very much traumatised by his passing. And Nasir’s mother recently died, and he’s been left alone to deal with his cruel and evil father. It’s a strong theme that runs throughout the book, and I’m sure many readers will be able to relate to Zafira and Nasir’s grief over the death of their beloved parents.

“For once, she appreciated the fearsome, incalculable strangeness of the Arz that made the men disappear. The two Sarasins could be leagues away, and neither she nor they would ever know it. Such was the Arz. This was why so many people who entered never returned — they couldn’t find their way back.”

This book will appeal to fantasy readers, but seasoned readers. This is not the kind of book to give a reluctant reader, and this is not the kind of book that will keep the attention of someone who doesn’t read often. The pacing is too slow and the characters a little too one-dimensional.

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

We Hunt the Flame
Hafsah Faizal
May 2019
Pan Macmillan Publishers