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

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

A Nearly Normal Family by M.T Edvardsson

A Nearly Normal Family is the psychological thriller from M. T. Edvardsson and asks what would you do if your child was suspected of murder, how far would you go to protect them? Do you want to know the truth?

Every murder case starts with a suspect. What if the suspect is your daughter? Would you believe her, or the evidence against her?

The Father believes his daughter has been framed.
The Mother believes she is hiding something.
The Daughter believes they have no idea what she’s truly capable of . . .

There are three sides to the story. And the truth will shatter this family to pieces.

A Nearly Normal Family by M.T Edvardsson is a Scandinavian crime novel, the victim being a man in this 30s and the suspect a young teenage girl who seems the most unsuspecting type. The novel is an exploration of domestic drama and family in crisis.

18 year old Stella Sandell is a rebellious teenager who has a history of being aggressive and having a short fuse. Her parents re overprotective and are at a loss of how to help her, but they’re also in denial about how bad her behaviour really is. And then, she’s charged with murder.

“I have gone against everything I believed in. The law has been my religion. It certainly has its faults, rather extensive ones in some respects, but still I firmly believe the law to be the pillar and guiding light of a modern society.”

The book is divided into three sections, each written in first person — the father, the daughter, the mother. The father is the weakest section, which is a shame because it’s the first section. The writing is inconsistent and the character — Adam — is overdramatic and unlikeable. The language is overly affectionate for the situation and Adam comes across over the top, cringeworthy, and his ‘voice’ is very unrealistic for a man of his age and position. I doubted my ability to finish the book, and probably wouldn’t have, if it weren’t for the mystery. I wanted to know who had murdered the man found dead in their suburb.

Another element I didn’t like about Adam’s narrative was the constant mention of religion and God. Adam is a pastor and therefore an honourable and trustworthy pillar of the community. But, in his POV, he references God and religion a lot, and it doesn’t feel natural. At times, I felt like the author was preaching to me and I had to skip ahead.

Once part one ended and we moved onto the daughter’s POV, I found it much easier to settle into the narrative.

“On that Saturday night when our lives were about to change, I turned to God. I was worried about the stained blouse in the washing machine. I made the snap decision not to mention it to Ulrika. Those stains could be from anything, it didn’t necessarily mean much, and there was no reason to subject Ulrika to further anxiety.”

Unreliable narrators is a common thread across all three parts in the book — Adam is willing to deceive and lie in order to save his daughter, Stella won’t tell the whole truth, and Ulrika seems to know more than she’s letting on. As the book progresses, the truth of that night slowly reveals itself.

The ending is plausible, realistic, and surprising, but a little too convenient. However, readers will find themselves satisfied with the ending, and the twists and turns that lead them there.

“It’s all about control. People never believe that. In their minds, the need for control is a characteristic of that sort of pendant who loses it if a paper end sup in the wrong pile on their desk, the type who sorts their wardrobe by exact shades of colour…but this is a different sort of control. It’s about not losing face. Not letting anyone get too close.”

Recommended for fans of crime and thrillers. The writing is average and there is a lot of repetition, but the mystery is enough to keep you reading.

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

A Nearly Normal Family
M.T. Edvardsson
July 2019
Pan Macmillan Publishers

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