JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

The Islands by Emily Brugman

In the mid-1950s, a small group of Finnish migrants set up camp on Little Rat, a tiny island in an archipelago off the coast of Western Australia. The crayfishing industry is in its infancy, and the islands, haunted though they are by past shipwrecks, possess an indefinable allure.

Drawn here by tragedy, Onni Saari is soon hooked by the stark beauty of the landscape and the slivers of jutting coral onto which the crayfishers build their precarious huts. Could these reefs, teeming with the elusive and lucrative cray, hold the key to a good life?

The Islands is the sweeping story of the Saari family: Onni, an industrious and ambitious young man, grappling with the loss of a loved one; his wife Alva, quiet but stoic, seeking a sense of belonging between the ramshackle camps of the islands and the dusty suburban lots of the mainland; and their pensive daughter Hilda, who dreams of becoming the skipper of her own boat. As the Saari’s try to build their future in Australia, their lives entwine with those of the fishing families of Little Rat, in myriad and unexpected ways.

A stunning, insightful story of a search for home.

Emily Brugman’s debut novel The Islands is a multi-generational literary tale that documents Finnish migration to the Abrolhos Islands off the coast of Western Australia.

Although this is a fictional tale, The Islands is heavily influenced by the stories of Emily’s ancestors from 1959 – 1972, as well as extensive research into these islands and cray fishermen from the mid-20th century. The Islands is set across many decades and moves back and forth between different members of the family. Over the course of the novel, we observe each character during pivotal moments in their lives.

“A year for the Saaris was now lived in two parts: on-season and off-season. Their first season on Little Rat had been a moderate success, from an economic standpoint, and the couple looked ahead with a suspicious and careful optimism characteristic of their people.”

At its core, The Islands is about the pursuit of a sustainable and secure life. But it’s also about resilience — both physical and emotional — and perseverance. We witness what that can encapsulate whether you’re 40, 60 or 14. In this isolated and secluded setting, we meet women experiencing loneliness, experiencing childbirth for the first time. We read as their children then mature into teenagers within this barren but plentiful landscape — we follow them as they discover impulses and sexual desire. We come across men working to earn for their families, having arrived with the hope of a land that provides.

“They carried him to camp and laid him down on his side, covering him with a blanket. Hilda stood watching from a corner. Helvi was crying and so was Aiti, although she was trying not to. Hilda wanted to cry too, but she didn’t think that would be right after what she’d done. So she just stood there. And Lauri didn’t move.”

Scattered throughout the novel are Finnish verses, then translated into English. By embedding Finnish language into the novel, readers are further immersed in culture, community and these characters’ historical journey.

There is a strong sense of song and music throughout the book, and the Finnish verses also allow the characters to have a stronger connection to their heritage because it feels like knowledge is being passed between generations.

“Towards the close of his first season, Onni woke to find Little Rat covered in dead shearwaters, their dishevelled bodies in oily black heaps on the coral ground. Those shaggy mutton birds, as the Aussies called them. They flew thousands of miles every year, across open ocean, through torrents of rain and wind. They didn’t always make it, and every so often they’d wash up on shorelines in their hundreds. A wreck. That was what they called it, when they washed up like that.”

Evocative and emotional, Emily Brugman’s The Islands is recommended for literary readers, and fans of grand familial sagas steeped in wild, forbidding settings like a Hannah Kent novel. Readership skews female, 30+

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

The Islands
Emily Brugman
February 2022
Allen & Unwin Book Publishers

Lily by Rose Tremain

Nobody knows yet that she is a murderer…

Abandoned at the gates of a London park one winter’s night in 1850, baby Lily Mortimer is saved by a young police constable and taken to the London Foundling Hospital. Lily is fostered by an affectionate farming family in rural Suffolk, enjoying a brief childhood idyll before she is returned to the Hospital, where she is punished for her rebellious spirit. Released into the harsh world of Victorian London, Lily becomes a favoured employee at Belle Prettywood’s Wig Emporium, but all the while she is hiding a dreadful secret…

Across the years, policeman Sam Trench keeps watch over the young woman he once saved. When Sam meets Lily again, there is an instant attraction between them and Lily is convinced that Sam holds the key to her happiness – but might he also be the one to uncover her crime and so condemn her to death?

Set in 1850s and 1860s Victorian London, Rose Tremain’s 16th novel Lily is a revenge tale exploring rejection, poverty, guilt and redemption.

As a baby, Lily Mortimer is abandoned on a cold London evening at the gates of a park. Discovered by a patrolling police constable, she is taken to the London Foundling Hospital. Despite spending the first six years of her life in a loving foster home, she is returned to the hospital for the remainder of her childhood and is subjected to years of abuse that charts her path towards murder.

“She dreams of her death. It comes as a cold October dawn is breaking in the London sky. A sack is put over her head. Through the weave of the burlap, she can take her last look at the world, which is a cluster of tiny squares of grey light, and she thinks whyever did I struggle so long and so hard to make my way in a place which was bent on my destruction ever since I came into it?”

Lily is a relatively short novel, written in third person and moving between past and present seamlessly. I rather enjoyed reading about Lily’s upbringing in the foster home, and then again when she’s older and attempting to come to terms with her recent murderous act. Despite being offered shelter and family, Lily does venture out on her own to make her own way, highlighting how independent she’s grown since the time she was a terrified six-year-old attempting to run away from the hospital.

Despite being a rather bleak tale, there are bright moments. It may be short-lived, but Lily’s friendship with Bridget in the foundling hospital is really wholesome, and so is her relationship with her foster mother. When she’s older, Lily’s friendship with her employer Belle is supportive and it offers Lily opportunities she never would’ve had available to her.

“She thought of the downward threads as soldiers standing in a perfect line and the taut loops joining them along the edge of the fabric as their arms reaching out and reaching out to one another, to give themselves courage, until the line was ended.”

Admittedly, the build-up to the murder feels a bit slim, as is the confession and subsequent conclusion of the novel. The abuse that Lily suffered isn’t overly present in the novel, so it feels like an afterthought at times. As such, this novel felt more like an exploration into her life, rather than her murderous act, because we spend so much time just setting up Lily’s story.

Whilst I genuinely did enjoy reading this novel, it did feel a little muddled at times — like even the author wasn’t sure what kind of book she wanted to write. Is she exploring the story of a poor orphan in Victorian London? Is she exploring the story of how someone becomes a murderer? Or perhaps tries to get away with it? Or is this also a story of a young orphan girl trying to find her mother, because that was a momentary thread in this novel that wasn’t really fleshed out or resolved.

“A ‘good’ life. How can you live a good life if you have been precious to nobody and made to feel burdened by shame? How can your heart not be vengeful?”

An atmospheric setting with rich, compelling characters, Lily is recommended for readers of historical fiction and period fiction. Readership skews female, 25+

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

Lily: A Tale of Revenge
Rose Tremain
November 2021
Penguin Random House Publishers

The Shut Ins by Katherine Brabon

Mai and Hikaru went to school together in the city of Nagoya, until Hikaru disappeared when they were eighteen.

It is not until ten years later, when Mai runs into Hikaru’s mother, Hiromi Sato, that she learns Hikaru has become a hikikomori, a recluse unable to leave his bedroom for years. In secret, Hiromi Sato hires Mai as a ‘rental sister’, to write letters to Hikaru and encourage him to leave his room.

Mai has recently married J, a devoted salaryman with conservative ideas about the kind of wife Mai will be. The renewed contact with her old school friend Hikaru stirs Mai’s feelings of invisibility within her marriage. She is frustrated with her life and knows she will never fulfill J’s obsession with the perfect wife and mother.

What else is there for Mai to do but to disappear herself?

Katherine Brabon’s The Shut Ins is literary fiction set in Japan, exploring family and connection, and what it means to belong to another. As the book is steeped in Japanese culture and connection, the book also explores societal, familial and generational pressure — how society places unexpected pressure on its inhabitants, and is quick to condemn those who don’t appear to conform.

Broken up into four sections, we move between housewife Mai, escort Sadako, the mother of Mai’s childhood friend Hiromi Sato, and the childhood friend himself Hiraku. Mai and Hiraku are written in first person, and the other two perspectives in third. Each section of the novel resembles a short story — a snapshot of that person’s life as it interacts with another character from the book. Once completed, we move to the next perspective and we do not revisit the previous character’s mind.

Interwoven throughout the book are reflections from Katherine about her time living in Japan, and how her interactions and experiences helped shape the book.

“The apartment does not feel familiar to me, despite all the years I lived here. With a frightening, cold feeling, I think of the apartment where I live with J, that it is not home to me either.”

Katherine captures the setting and environment with ease. Some critics have compared her to Murakami, and I can see the similarities in writing style — the stripped back, bare nature of it all. The blunt observations, the feelings and emotions left off the page.

Structurally, the novel works well in connecting the four pivotal characters. Whilst Sadako’s connection to Mai is slim, her voice is perhaps the most colourful and layered, her story offering insight into Mai’s husband that the other perspectives don’t venture into. Each character experiences some form of loneliness and isolation in their lives, and their interactions with others offer reprieve and motivation to understand more about what they’re experiencing.

“For a brief moment, I wonder if I can tell Hiromi Sato that I am worried for reasons I cannot quite name, that fears and harsh thoughts about my life seem to follow me. I wonder if I can tell her about my attempts to go to Takayama, in Gifu Prefecture, and how I failed in this.”

Naturally with a novel that follows four different characters, there are going to be some you resonate with more. Personally, I thought Mai and Sadako were the most compelling characters with the most interesting character arcs. Unfortunately, I cared very little for Hiromi or Hiraku and found myself skimming their sections.

Outside of this, I quite enjoyed the novel and found it flowed with ease. It’s not overly long, so could be read rather quickly.

“Sadako started to form a mental image of this woman, of the apartment where she and J lived in Nagoya, a city she had never seen, and of the life they lived there together. Often J would complain about something his wife had specifically failed to do, some interaction she was guilty of…”

Recommended for literary readers, and those drawn to short stories or novellas. Readership skews female 30+

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

The Shut Ins
Katherine Brabon
July 2021
Allen & Unwin Book Publishers

If This Gets Out by Sophie Gonzales and Cale Dietrich

Eighteen-year-olds Ruben Montez and Zach Knight are two members of the boy-band Saturday, one of the biggest acts in America. Along with their bandmates, Angel Phan and Jon Braxton, the four are teen heartbreakers in front of the cameras and best friends backstage. But privately, cracks are starting to form: their once-easy rapport is straining under the pressures of fame, and Ruben confides in Zach that he’s feeling smothered by management’s pressure to stay in the closet.

On a whirlwind tour through Europe, with both an unrelenting schedule and minimal supervision, Ruben and Zach come to rely on each other more and more, and their already close friendship evolves into a romance. But when they decide they’re ready to tell their fans and live freely, Zach and Ruben start to truly realize that they will never have the support of their management. How can they hold tight to each other when the whole world seems to want to come between them?

Co-written by Sophie Gonzales and Cale Dietrich, YA drama and romcom If This Gets Out is set within the exclusive but fraught world of international musical stardom. When two members of a boy band start dating, they feel stifled by those around them who want to keep their relationship and sexuality a secret.

Written in first person POV and switching chapters between Ruben and Zach, If This Gets Out centres around a male/male relationship between two famous teenagers as they attempt to navigate what others expect of them. It’s an emotional but uplifting story for teenage readers. Amidst relationship turmoil, this YA novel is about a group of young boys who feel exploited by the music industry and the disastrous consequences that ensue.

“I climb into the minibus, following after Jon. Luckily none of the fans try to get into the vehicle. That’s as terrifying as it sounds, and I’d know: a girl jumped onto my lap once trying to get to Jon and she had to be pulled off by Pauline.”

Strengths lie in how Sophie and Cale have captured Ruben and Zach’s voices. Their internal dialogue allows for character depth and also character growth, and it was pleasing to read about their various relationships with family members — the good and the bad.

Sophie and Cale have also captured a realistic and authentic setting with this music world environment. Music producers and record labels are incredibly focused on image and perfection, so much so that what fans see is rarely the real thing — just a carefully constructed image put together by a team of people. From the security team to the manager to the publicity director, there’s a sense of familiarity in this if you’ve been involved in the entertainment industry and therefore know what that environment is like. It’s clear that a lot of research has gone into this book.

“Erin doesn’t deny it, and I suddenly realise I was stupid to think I’d been voted in by adoring fans. Of course Chorus picked who went on the list. I’ve understood the importance of maintaining our roles as romantic fantasies at all costs since the very beginning.”

Whilst Ruben, Zach and Angel all felt multi-layered and well-developed, I felt that Jon was a bit of a loose end in the story. His character arc revolves a little around his father’s power and control over the band, but Jon’s presence in the story felt thin and at times invisible.

Perhaps it’s hard to achieve this when there are four people in the band, plus a large cast of secondary characters, but I got to the end of the novel and couldn’t help but feel there was a missing element to Jon’s characterisation.

“My phone is sitting heavy in my pants pocket, so I pull it out and check it. Ruben is the last person I messaged, and seeing his name makes my heart rate spike. All I can picture now is his wounded expression. It fills my vision, taking over everything, making my stomach sink.”

Punchy, poignant and emotional, If This Gets Out is recommended for young adult readers, and those looking for LGBTQI+ representation in literature. Readership skews 14+

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

If This Gets Out
Sophie Gonzales and Cale Dietrich
December 2021
Hachette Book Publishers

The Christmas Pig by J.K Rowling

One boy and his toy are about to change everything…

Jack loves his childhood toy, Dur Pig. DP has always been there for him, through good and bad. Until one Christmas Eve, something terrible happens – DP is lost. But Christmas Eve is a night for miracles and lost causes, a night when all things can come to life… even toys. And Jack’s newest toy – the Christmas Pig (DP’s annoying replacement) – has a daring plan: Together they’ll embark on a magical journey to seek something lost, and to save the best friend Jack has ever known…

Illustrated by award-winning artist Jim Field, J.K Rowling’s latest children’s fantasy novel The Christmas Pig encapsulates the spirit of the holidays, telling the story of a lost beloved toy and the journey that his heartbroken owner goes on in order to retrieve him.

Whilst magic doesn’t feel as dominant in this one, something J.K Rowling captures well in her children’s novels is a cast of relatable characters who draw empathy from readers. They’re also fast-paced, fun and easily digestible for young eyes.

“All his adventures gave DP his interesting smell, which Jack liked very much. It was a mixture of the places DP had gone on his adventures, along with the warm dark cave under Jack’s blankets, and just a trace of Mum’s perfume…”

I particularly enjoyed J.K Rowling’s depiction of emotions like happiness, power and ambition — the way they can alter a person’s attitude to others and then be easily discarded depending on circumstances and setting.

The Christmas Pig will help children process emotions such as loss, when they lose something or perhaps when something or someone is no longer in their life. It’s nice to imagine a place where toys come alive, and this is certainly not a unique trope in children’s literature. Another aspect of the book that may help children is the family dynamic for our protagonist Jack — his parents are divorced and his mother remarries. He gains a teenage step-sister who is awful to him, and I think many young readers may find elements of their own home life within these pages.

“After that, Jack was shouting and crying too loudly to hear anything anyone said to him. He couldn’t stand feeling the car bearing him away from the place where DP was lying, lost and bewildered and wondering why Jack wasn’t coming back for him.”

Whilst there are some moments in the book that aren’t as digestible, such as the subtle messages around climate change and the somewhat cliche villains we meet towards the end, that’s only noticeable for adult readers — children will love this book. There’s a sense of urgency to the plot that drives the story forward and will keep children entertained. Each chapter is relatively short, encouraging young readers to keep turning.

“Sure enough, within a few seconds Jack was able to see the Christmas Pig again. Like Jack, he was floating downwards. Their surroundings became gradually lighter until Jack realised they were both sinking through their own column of golden light.”

With a gorgeous hardback cover, this is a great stocking filler for the festive season. Recommended for young children, readership skews 8+

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

The Christmas Pig
J.K Rowling
October 2021
Hachette Book Publishers