JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

Malorie by Josh Malerman

In the old world there were many rules. In the new world there is only one: don’t open your eyes.

In the seventeen years since the ‘creatures’ appeared, many people have broken that rule. Many have looked. Many have lost their minds, their lives, their loved ones.

In that time, Malorie has raised her two children – Olympia and Tom – on the run or in hiding. Now nearly teenagers, survival is no longer enough. They want freedom.

When a census-taker stops by their refuge, he is not welcome. But he leaves a list of names – of survivors building a future beyond the darkness – and on that list are two names Malorie knows.

Two names for whom she’ll break every rule, and take her children across the wilderness, in the hope of becoming a family again…

Josh Malerman’s Malorie is the sequel to the cultural sensation-turned-Netflix-movie Birdbox, starring Sandra Bullock.

In this follow up, Malorie is even more cautious and paranoid than when we last saw her. She’s had seventeen years to perfect her methods of survival. She’s got two teenage children now and even though they’re old enough to look after themselves, they’re teenagers and they don’t always obey the rules. They don’t remember the world before the creatures — sometimes they’re too trusting, and they don’t always understand why they can’t look outside at the real world.

Malorie needs to learn to trust her children. She needs to learn to loosen the reigns a little. She’s hyper-cautious and strict, and she doesn’t trust easily, and whilst it’s easy to understand her characterisation, her son Tom in particular grows quite resentful of her smothering nature over the course of the novel.

“Malorie thinks of Gary. It makes sense. A man arrives at the camp. He knocks. He speaks from the other side of the door. All good intentions, of course. Until you let him in, of course. Then he makes friends with the others, ingratiates himself to the point where your own kids turn on you, and presto, you’ve welcomed an old-world mad-man into your life.”

It’s fascinating reading this whilst living through a pandemic. You can suddenly relate to the characters’ fear of the unknown, the scepticism, the uncertainty and the doubt. The blindfolds feel strangely close to masks, and remembering myself watching the film — pre COVID-19 — with no idea of what was to come to the world, is a strange thought.

Malorie is a bit of a balancing act — road trip, survival story, family drama, teenage angst. There are so many different elements to the story and Josh does a really fantastic job of juggling them all and maintaining interest from the reader. There are lots of twists and turns, plot points I didn’t see coming. Although admittedly, there are some moments where Tom goes from being an understandably rebellious teenager, to being just that little bit too annoying and unlikable.

“Tom is stricken by how alive Malorie looks. Her eyes appear bright memories, realisations, decisions. The bag beside her is full. She wears a hoodie and long pants, gloves and boots. In one hand is the blindfold she just removed.”

Whilst you can read Malorie without having read or watched Birdbox, I’d advise you familiarise yourself with its predecessor. It would make for a richer and more enjoyable experience when reading Malorie. There are frequent mentions to events from the previous book, particularly surrounding the character Gary, and I do think readers who are unfamiliar with Birdbox will get confused easily.

“She thinks of Camp Yadin and how safe they were. She can almost feel the texture of the rope in her gloved hands, rope connecting each building, one of which housed canned goods, another with a garden beside it. She sees herself, waking there, walking there, living there, safe. She hears herself asking the teens what might be outside.”

Whilst the ending of the book is satisfactory and satisfying, I felt like the pacing was inconsistent. The book moves at a slow but tense pace, drawing the reader in and keeping them engaged throughout. But the ending is incredibly fast and rushed. I almost couldn’t believe Malerman was going to wrap up the story in such a short amount of pages, and yet, he did. I wish some more time had been spent on the ending.

Highly recommended, although do read or watch Birdbox first.

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

Malorie
Josh Malerman
August 2020
Hachette Book Publishers Australia

Small Pleasures by Clare Chambers

Jean Swinney is a feature writer on a local paper, disappointed in love and – on the brink of forty – living a limited existence with her truculent mother: a small life from which there is no likelihood of escape.

When a young Swiss woman, Gretchen Tilbury, contacts the paper to claim that her daughter is the result of a virgin birth, it is down to Jean to discover whether she is a miracle or a fraud. But the more Jean investigates, the more her life becomes strangely (and not unpleasantly) intertwined with that of the Tilburys: Gretchen is now a friend, and her quirky and charming daughter Margaret a sort of surrogate child. And Jean doesn’t mean to fall in love with Gretchen’s husband, Howard, but Howard surprises her with his dry wit, his intelligence and his kindness – and when she does fall, she falls hard.

But he is married, and to her friend – who is also the subject of the story she is researching for the newspaper, a story that increasingly seems to be causing dark ripples across all their lives. And yet Jean cannot bring herself to discard the chance of finally having a taste of happiness…

But there will be a price to pay, and it will be unbearable.

Clare Chambers’ Small Pleasures is a tender and heartwarming novel about middle-age journalist Jean Swinney and young seamstress Gretchen, who claims her 10-year-old daughter was the result of a virgin birth.

Jean is assigned to report on Gretchen’s story and soon becomes heavily entangled within Gretchen’s family, not just because she’s determined to substantiate Gretchen’s story and prove that Margaret is indeed a miracle, but because Jeann forms a growing bond with Gretchen’s caring, compassionate but overlooked husband Howard.

Small Pleasures explores family, expectations and responsibility, but it’s also a really beautiful and budding love story.

“Spontaneous generosity was a new experience for Jean — until today such opportunities had seldom come her way and would probably have gone unnoticed. She and her mother exchanged small, practical gifts at Christmas, of course, but she was a stranger to more ambitious forms of giving.”

The prologue is intriguing, drawing in readers with the concept of a miracle. Small Pleasures weaves in elements of mystery to keep the readers engaged, and enthral them right up until the final chapter.

Small Pleasures presents itself as a quiet novel — something to be read and reflected upon, something that allows you to ponder the impact of companionship on a lonely soul. It is tender and meaningful.

Set in the London suburbs in the 1960s, Jean is a character to sympathise for. She’s nearing 40 and single, she lives with and cares for her ailing mother, and all hope is lost that she’ll find someone to settle down with. When she meets Gretchen, she soon finds a spot in the family and it feels like a sliver of happiness is opening itself up for Jeann.

“Since her last meeting with Gretchen at the hospital she had told herself to maintain a strictly professional distance, avoiding any overtures of friendship in case it clouded her judgement and made a potentially tricky conversation in the future even trickier.”

Clare’s writing is polished and seamless; sentences weave together like water. The dialogue is realistic and the pacing allows for an inviting read. Descriptions and imagery leap off the page — you can tell Claire has spent considerable time perfecting her craft.

Small Pleasures follows multiple genres — it feels literary from the writing style, but it also feels part mystery and part romance. You become invested in the supposed ‘virgin birth’ of Gretchen’s daughter, even though you know it’s medically impossible. You stay with the story because of the growing affection between Jean and Howard.

“The thought of her sister prompted, as always, a mixture of conflicting emotions, principally rancour and envy, but also powerful, protective love, and grief at the distance between them.”

Admittedly, I found the ending of Gretchen’s story to be a little predictable. The second we find out Gretchen was bedridden during her time at the facility, it seemed a little obvious. Whilst we don’t find out the whole truth until the end, it did feel a little too signposted.

I also felt the plot waned in the middle of the book — things slowed, events dragged, and I found myself counting the pages. It wasn’t until a certain someone reconnected with another someone and disrupted her family that the plot picked up again, and I was hooked again until the ending.

Charming and heartwarming, Small Pleasures is recommended for fans of literary fiction and family tales. Suitable for an adult readership.

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

Small Pleasures
Clare Chambers
July 2020
Hachette Book Publishers

The Bluffs by Kyle Perry

When a school group of teenage girls goes missing in the remote wilderness of Tasmania’s Great Western Tiers, the people of Limestone Creek are immediately on alert. Three decades ago, five young girls disappeared in the area of those dangerous bluffs, and the legend of ‘the Hungry Man’ still haunts locals to this day.

Now, authorities can determine that the teacher, Eliza Ellis, was knocked unconscious, so someone on the mountain was up to foul play. Jordan Murphy, the local dealer and father of missing student Jasmine, instantly becomes the prime suspect. But Detective Con Badenhorst knows that in a town this size – with corrupt cops, small-town politics, and a teenage YouTube sensation – everyone is hiding something, and bluffing is second nature.

When a body is found, mauled, at the bottom of a cliff, suspicion turns to a wild animal – but that can’t explain why she was discovered barefoot, her shoes at the top of the cliff, laces neatly tied.

Eerie, mysterious and utterly gripping, The Bluffs is the debut novel from Australian author Kyle Perry, set amidst the mountains of Tasmania’s Great Western Tiers. The novel blends the real and the supernatural, drawing readers in with a page-turning mystery and keeping them trapped until they get to the final page.

A group of teenage girls go missing in the remote mountains of the Great Western Tiers; the entire town is on edge because three decades earlier, a different group of young girls went missing and they’ve never been found.

“Eliza had grown up without a father. She’d hated it, she still felt broken hearted whenever she thought of it. She wanted Wren to grow up healthy and happy. Not just with a father, but a father she could respect.”

The Bluffs is heavy with police procedure; robust Sydney detective Con Badenhorst is tasked with finding the missing girls. He’s determined and desperate, but he’s also holding on to some pretty triggering baggage from his work back in Sydney.

Local drug dealer Murphy is one of the strongest characters in the book — flawed and morally ambiguous, but also really likeable. He’s driven by his love for his daughter and his protective nature adds depth to the story.

Local teacher Eliza is a pretty fascinating character. At first, she appears to be a weak character, easily confused or fooled. But over time we come to understand her as a little unreliable, a little mixed up in the information she’s telling us.

“Being dismissed by a 16-year-old was not an experience Con enjoyed, but Gabriella grabbed his arm and he let her drag him outside. His mind was turning, carefully putting observations and facts into boxes, listing options and priorities and questions he needed answered.”

Tension builds with every passing chapter. Writing is crisp and quick; the dialogue is realistic and spurs the story on. There are a lot of characters in the story, but their characterisation is unique and you can tell Kyle spent a lot of time really crafting each and every one of them.

Setting plays a strong part in this novel. The weather is unpredictable and unforgiving — you can feel the cold rain and the harsh environment as it builds up in the mountains. Sometimes setting feels like another character, adding intrigue and mystery. What secrets is that fog hiding?

The blend of supernatural elements into this story was an interesting choice. Personally, I hated the final chapter. When a novel is a standalone and the final chapter hints to some other world, there’s no way for a resolution and I end up incredibly frustrated. But I’m sure not everyone would have the same reaction.

“Something roared in Murphy’s ears. He wrenched against the cuffs on the table, shouting profanity. He was barely aware of the words leaving his mouth as he kicked the chair over behind him, kicked against the metal legs of the table.”

I will admit, there were a few moments — twists — that felt predictable to me. Spoiler alert. The letters KUN being etched onto the police car felt significant, and identifiable as a clue; Madison mentioning the ‘game’ when they were atop the mountains also signalled some kind of forward planning; Jake being tasked with driving himself to the police station when he was acting suspicious — no surprises when he drove off and tried to make a break for it.

I don’t think I fully understood why the author crafted Tom and Monica the way he did. Monica doesn’t have much real estate in the story, so I’m not really sure why we were positioned to feel sorry for her when she also was very aware of Tom’s behaviour. To be honest, I didn’t feel like Eliza and Monica’s acceptance of Tom’s behaviour was very realistic.

The twist about a certain character being related to another certain character was also signposted too many times. I saw that one coming and I imagine other readers might as well.

Despite some predictable moments, The Bluffs will please any crime or mystery reader. Recommended for fans of Stephen King.

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

The Bluffs
Kyle Perry
July 2020
Penguin Random House 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 Silk House by Kayte Nunn

Weaving. Healing. Haunting. The spellbinding story of a mysterious boarding school sheltering a centuries-old secret…

Australian history teacher Thea Rust arrives at an exclusive boarding school in the British countryside only to find that she is to look after the first intake of girls in its 150-year history. She is to stay with them in Silk House, a building with a long and troubled past.

In the late 1700s, Rowan Caswell leaves her village to work in the home of an English silk merchant. She is thrust into a new and dangerous world where her talent for herbs and healing soon attracts attention.

In London, Mary-Louise Stephenson lives amid the clatter of the weaving trade and dreams of becoming a silk designer, a job that is the domain of men. A length of fabric she weaves with a pattern of deadly flowers will have far-reaching consequences for all who dwell in the silk house.

Kayte Nunn’s The Silk House is scrumptious historical fiction set against the backdrop of the eighteenth-century silk trade. Switching between POVs, we meet three women whose lives intersect with the mysterious Silk House in very different ways.

In the present, Australian teacher Thea takes up residence in the house to manage the first intake of female students for a nearby boarding school.

In the late 18th century, Rowan Caswell is a maid in the silk house. She’s got a talent for brewing herbal concoctions that soon earn her a reputation. Mary-Louise Stephenson is an artist and designer who is struggling to build a career as a silk designer. She’s working in a man’s industry and no one will take her seriously.

“Rowan rubbed her eyes and blinked in the dim light of Prudence’s taper. There was no sign of Alice; indeed, the other side of the bed appeared as if it had not been slept in, the sheets pulled tight and the thin pillow smooth, but Rowan thought she had felt someone next to her when she rolled over in the night.”

Setting is one of the biggest strengths in this novel — the silk house is eerie and mysterious, alive and haunting. Secrets are buried within the walls and slowly, page by page, we come to understand the dangers and hidden mysteries embedded in its history.

The Silk House is rich with evocative imagery and compelling characters. Moments of supernatural and witchcraft pepper the story, enough to intrigue the reader but not too much that it feels too divergent from the genre we’re reading.

“It was all Thea could do not to gasp aloud as she pulled open the door to the library and stepped inside. The building was cavernous, with high ceilings and shadowed shelves that seemed like they might make excellent hiding places. Wall-to-wall books, some leather-bound, their spines cracked and worn, looked as old as the school itself.”

Kayte builds tension incredibly well, but she also implements a strong sense of foreboding with each passing chapter. Readers will sense the unease in all of the women’s lives, and each chapter builds to a really surprising climax.

Feminism and the female experience are explored throughout the book. Each of the main characters are female, and they’re all strong and determined in their own right. They’re working to succeed in a world dominated by men.

Thea wants to prove herself and is passionate about uncovering the mysteries of the Silk House. Rowan is incredibly skilled at brewing medicinal drinks and pills, and she is also incredibly savvy and intelligent. Mary-Louise is set up to fail, but pursues her love of designing and forges a career on her own.

“Mary tucked her sheaf of drawings, embroidery samples and dot patterns under her arm and prepared to knock on the door of every master weaver on Spital Square, Old Artillery Ground and beyond. Few would admit her. Some drew their shutters at her approach, as if they had been forewarned of her purpose.”

Admittedly, Mary-Louise’s story didn’t feel as dominant in the novel. She’s an integral part of the story, and her actions have lasting effects on the others in the house, but she doesn’t get as much real estate in the book as the other two women and so Mary ends up feeling a little lost in the pages. Truthfully, sometimes I completely forget about her until her POV turned up again.

Gothic mystery at its best, The Silk House is recommended for fans of literary fiction and historical fiction.

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

The Silk House
Kayte Nunn
July 2020
Hachette Book Publishers