JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

The Circus Train by Amita Parikh

Two lives collide in a world of secrets.
But one secret greater than them all.
Is about to tear them apart . . .

At the World of Wonders, Europe’s most magnificent travelling circus, every moment is full of magic, and nothing is as it seems-especially for the people who put on the show.

Lena Papadopoulos has never quite found her place within the circus, even as the daughter of the extraordinary headlining illusionist, Theo. Brilliant and curious, Lena yearns for the real-world magic of science and medicine, despite her father’s overprotection and the limitations of her wheelchair. Her unconventional life takes an exciting turn when she rescues Alexandre, an orphan with his own secrets and a mysterious past.

Over several years, as their friendship flourishes and Alexandre trains as the illusionist’s apprentice, World War II escalates around them. When Theo and Alexandre are contracted to work and perform in a model town for Jews set up by the Nazis, Lena becomes separated from everything she knows. Forced to make her own way, Lena must confront her doubts and dare to believe in the impossible-herself.

Amita Parikh’s The Night Circus is a grand tale of a family separated across Europe by war.

The novel is led by the wonderous and intelligent Lena, disabled from birth by polio and underestimated by just about everyone around her. She and her father, an illusionist, are travelling with their circus in Amsterdam when a young Jewish boy, Alexandre, seeks refuge in their train. Soon, Lena and Alexandre form a strong friendship and then, eventually, a romance. But in the background, war is building, and Alexandre is not the only character that finds themselves in danger.

“The war, Theo told them, was a grave one, but it hadn’t yet spread south. Greece declared neutrality and Thessaloniki, at least to Lena, still felt like the home she always returned to each year.”

Amita should be commended for her remarkable research and attention to detail. The story spans decades, during such a pivotal moment in history, and the author has done a great job capturing the atmosphere of Europe during WWII, but also capturing Lena’s disability and the life of circus performers during this era.

The atmosphere is another one of the major strengths in the novel. The reader is immersed in a world of magic and intrigue, a mesmerising circus of wonder, where all are welcome – all shapes, sizes, heights, bodies, orientations. There is an impending doom looming under the surface, but until that threat hits, the reader feels comfortable in the story with these characters. Lena’s father Theo is a particular favourite of mine – headstrong and determined, but also incredibly caring.

“By the spring of 1940, Alexandre could do the cup-and-balls trick, the dove-pan illusion, the disappearing-penny act, and the French drop. At Horace’s request, he appeared before each performance in the lobby, along with four other cast members.”

Whilst the romantic element of the story feels a bit undeveloped and then subsequently wraps up far too quickly at the end to be believable, The Circus Train is a fantastic historical novel. The characters are all three-dimensional and well-crafted, and even the secondary characters shine through the pages.

As the story progresses and Lena finds herself separated from Alexandre and also her father, it allows her to pursue dreams she’d been putting on hold. She dreams of walking unassisted and attending medical school – both of these seem next to impossible, especially given Lena’s disability. Her father, in particular, was hesitant about Lena attending medical school but accepting their fates means Lena must re-focus her energy on her career and her health.

“Lena nodded. She still didn’t understand why Horace didn’t like Jewish people, but she wanted Alexandre to stay on board as long as he could. There was no chance of her saying anything to jeopardise that.”

A sweeping and charming tale of magic and hope amidst the backdrop of WWII, The Circus Train is for readers of historical fiction and war sagas. The carnivalesque setting will attract many readers. Readership skews 20+

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

The Circus Train
Amita Parikh
December 2022
Hachette Book Publishers

The Witches of Vardo by Anya Bergman

Norway, 1662. A dangerous time to be a woman, when even dancing can lead to accusations of witchcraft. When Zigri, desperate and grieving after the loss of her husband and son, embarks on an affair with the local merchant, it’s not long before she is sent to the fortress at Vardo, to be tried and condemned as a witch.

Zigri’s daughter Ingeborg sets off into the wilderness to try to bring her mother back home. Accompanying her on this quest is Maren – herself the daughter of a witch ¬- whose wild nature and unconquerable spirit gives Ingeborg the courage to venture into the unknown, and to risk all she has to save her family.

Also captive in the fortress is Anna Rhodius, once the King of Denmark’s mistress, who has been sent to Vardo in disgrace. What will she do – and who will she betray – to return to her privileged life at court?

These Witches of Vardo are stronger than even the King of Denmark. In an age weighted against them they refuse to be victims. They will have their justice. All they need do is show their power.

Anya Bergman’s debut novel The Witches of Vardo is a retelling of the seventeenth century Norwegian witch trials, an evocative story of women rendered voiceless and powerless amidst a time of great suspicion and accusation.

In one narrative we meet Ingeborg, daughter of an accused witch who teams up with another young woman – Maren – to save her mother from imminent death. Interspersed throughout the book is a third perspective. Anna, disgraced and now living in Vardo. Eventually, her path crosses with Ingeborg and Maren. These three women refuse to succumb to the expectations placed upon them, and work to rebel against the witch-hunting, religious fanatics that surround them.

“This was the change in Ingeborg’s mother. She no longer cared what any soul thought of her. What did it matter now her boy was gone and her husband lost? But this change was more dangerous than her mother could ever imagine, more than Ingeborg had an inkling of.”

The Witches of Vardo is a feisty female narrative, reclaiming and retelling true events in our history. A blend of fact, fiction and magical realism, the books hits its stride about halfway through when Ingeborg arrives at Vardo. The first half of the book is admittedly a little slow and directionless, but the second half – when Ingeborg and Anna’s storylines finally intersect – draws readers in and will maintain engagement until the final page.

There is no doubt that the author has researched the subject matter meticulously, and so credit must be given for capturing the era and the setting – for bringing the locations and the atmosphere to life. The suspicion, the inaccuracies, the fear. It’s an interesting era to look back on, and so it formed a very intriguing backdrop for the tale.

“Ingeborg knew she should break up the dance. She knew it was wrong. But her body wouldn’t let her. The rhyme was one she had never heard before, and yet it felt as if she knew the words before Maren uttered them.”

This is definitely more of a plot-driven story than a character driven one. In fact, many of the characters started to blur together throughout the story, and I’m not convinced that the author’s structure and storytelling was enough to hook me in.

Whilst there were some fantastic elements to the story – ancient folklore tales and a suite of badass female characters – some of the dialogue felt forced and unnatural, the pacing was inconsistent throughout the story, the villains weren’t nuanced and had very little depth to them, and decisions made in the book didn’t make a huge amount of success. Relations between characters felt a bit unbelievable, and moments of realisation skimmed over in favour of plot. The ending, too, felt unsatisfying.

It felt like the setup of the story took so long that I wonder if it started in the right spot. Should the story have started with Ingeborg’s mother already imprisoned? To kickstart the journey to Vardo a little sooner?

“Maren was a poor fisher girl like the rest of them, and yet when she narrated her story Ingeborg could see the old Norse Goddess Freya within her – in the dewy dark softness of her eyes, and the bite of her over lip. Love and War.”

A promising retelling of Norwegian history, Anya Bergman’s The Witches of Vardo will appeal to female readers, and fans of historical fiction and mythical or factual tales. Readership skews 25+

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

The Witches of Vardo
Anya Bergman
February 2023
Allen & Unwin Book Publishers

The Only Child by Kayte Nunn

Almost every graduating class had a girl who disappeared. A decades-old crime threatens to tear apart three generations of women in this unputdownable mystery that will keep you gripped until its last heart-wrenching page.

1949 It is the coldest winter Orcades Island has ever known, when a pregnant sixteen-year-old arrives at Fairmile, a home for ‘fallen women’ run by the Catholic Church. She and her baby will disappear before the snow melts.

2013 Frankie Gray has come to the island for the summer, hoping to reconnect with her teenage daughter, Izzy, before starting a job as deputy sheriff. They are staying with her mother, Diana, at The Fairmile Inn, but when an elderly nun is found dead, and then a tiny skeleton is discovered nearby, Frankie is desperate for answers.

Kayte Nunn’s historical novel The Only Child follows dual timeline between 1949 and 2013, and centres around a secluded and strict home for unwed, pregnant women in the mid 20th century.

In 1940s United States, unwed pregnant young women were sent away by their families out of shame – once they’d given birth, and pressured to give up their babies, they could return home. The Only Child is very much drawn from real life events, and it’s clear how much research and authenticity has made its way into the book.

In this early storyline we meet one such teenager, star pupil and promising student and now devastated to find herself in the predicament she was in. And in 2013, mystery surrounds an aged care home in the same area – a murder that may be connected to the unwed mother’s home. Police officer Frankie Gray finds herself deep in the investigation as she works to connect this murder with a skeleton found nearby, as well as with her elderly mother who seems to be harbouring secrets.

“Frankie rankled at being ordered around by her mother as though she was a teenager herself, but she let it slide. Besides, it wasn’t such a terrible idea, and it would mean that Izzy was at least able to explore on her own without having to rely on one of them to ferry her around all the time.”

Unlike previous Kayte Nunn novels, The Only Child is more of a steer towards crime/mystery, with decades-old secrets only coming to the surface in 2013. Personally, I really liked this element of her writing and found it kept the story engaging and moving forward at a reasonable pace.

Alongside this, Kayte’s book incorporates strong vivid setting and characterisation. Written in third person, each protagonist and storyline is crafted with clarity. She captures emotion and intimacy with ease, and dialogue is natural and realistic.

“As they got out of the car, she saw two girls sweeping the front porch. Both were obviously pregnant, their bellies stretching the dull fabric of their dresses. The girl didn’t know why but the mere sight of them, in a similar predicament to her, eased the knot in her stomach.”

With a 1949 setting, Kayte establishes the time period well. We experience the public scrutiny, scorn and shame that comes with an unplanned pregnancy. How it changes families, and forces young women to be shipped off with no say in the matter. Women who may want their babies are encouraged to give them up for adoption, and the medical facilities available at the home are sub-par and so mother and baby are put at risk – particularly in The Only Child, as the 1949 Winter is the coldest it’s ever been. The home isn’t necessarily equipped to handle the cold weather.

“The girl hadn’t brought much with her – a couple of changers of clothes, skirts that her mother had let out as far as the waistbands would allow, and an old sweater of her father’s that would stretch over her stomach as she grew bigger – and so she quickly arranged them, closing the suitcase and sliding it under the bed.”

Kayte Nunn’s The Only Child is recommended for historical fiction readers. Readership skews female, 30+

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

The Only Child
Kayte Nunn
September 2022
Hachette Book Publishers

The Paris Mystery by Kirsty Manning

Paris, 1938. The last sigh of summer before the war.

As Australian journalist Charlotte ‘Charlie’ James alights at the Gare du Nord, ready to start her role as correspondent for The Times, Paris is in turmoil as talk of war becomes increasingly strident.

Charlie is chasing her first big scoop, needing to prove to her boss that she can do this job as well as, if not better than, her male counterparts. And the best way to forge the necessary contacts quickly is to make the well-connected expats, Lord and Lady Ashworth, her business. Lady Eleanor knows everyone who counts and at her annual sumptuously extravagant party, Charlie will meet them all.

On the summer solstice eve, the party is in full swing with the cream of Parisian society entranced by burlesque dancers, tightrope walkers, a jazz band and fireworks lighting the night skies. But as Charlie is drawn into the magical world of parties, couture houses and bohemian wine bars, secrets start to unravel, including her own. Putting a foot wrong could spell death …

In this magnificent new beginning to the joyful Charlie James series, Manning beguiles with glamour and mystery set in pre-war Paris.

The first in a new historical fiction series, Kirsty Manning’s The Paris Mystery introduces us to Australian journalist – and sleuth – Charlotte, now living in Paris and determined to escape her past and carve a new life for herself in France.

With war fast approaching, the newly divorced Charlie is excited to start her new job as correspondent for The Times. She is determined to surpass her male counterparts and prove herself but covering a captivating scoop for the outlet. When she attends a party on the eve of summer solstice and a guest ends up murdered, it’s Charlie’s chance to be on the front foot of the story and uncover the truth of what really happened that night.

“At his shoulder Madame Marchand sipped her champagne, her face neutral. Charlie studied her: impeccable skin enhanced with a hint of makeup, coiffed hair, tailored couture. In her late fifties, she looked her age, and Charlie admired that – she hated hollow compliments, and none were more irritating than the suggestion that a woman who looked less than her age was to be feted.”

Set against the backdrop of the glamorous pre-war Parisian lifestyle, Manning has brought France to life with vivid description and eccentric, compelling characters. With a mystery at its core, Manning maintains a compelling narrative that will have readers eagerly turning the pages.

Charlie is a headstrong, efficient protagonist drawn from a number of different inspirations. Manning has crafted an inspiring journalist, driven by more than just a love of the job – she refuses to be underestimated just because she’s a woman. She’s determined and fierce, goal-oriented and hungry to prove others wrong. I think a lot of (female) readers will relate to her, and this determinism is an element that I love when female protagonists take centre stage in historical fiction.

“Charlie remembered that Lady Ashworth had said Maxime Marchand was a fellow patron of the Louvre. She followed Lord Ashworth’s gaze to see a fit man, with excellent cheekbones, in a cream linen suit. Reclining at a corner table, he chatted to a blushing waitress.”

Manning provides a lot of rich detail across the course of the novel – outfits, homes, streets, food, it all helps paint a picture and allows us to imagine the setting with ease.

Something I did struggle with, particularly at the beginning and still in the middle of the book when we were still getting to know all the characters– a lot of them have names starting with M, and I would constantly mix them up: Madame Marchant, Maxime Marchant, Conrad McKenzie (often referred to as just ‘McKenzie’), Mercedes and Milly Goldsmith.

“This was Charlie’s first time in such a fancy fashion house, and she felt giddy with excitement. Though her work clothes were plain, she loved dressing up for evenings out, fixing her hair and applying a bright red lip – it made her feel vibrant, strong and attractive.”

Fun and extravagant, The Paris Mystery is recommended for readers of historical and crime fiction. Readership skews female, 25+

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

The Paris Mystery
Kirsty Manning
September 2022
Allen & Unwin

Joan by Katherine J. Chen

Girl. Warrior. Heretic. Saint?

France is mired in a losing war against England. Its people are starving. Its king is in hiding. Yet out of the chaos, an unlikely heroine emerges.

Reckless, steel-willed and brilliant, Joan has survived a childhood steeped in both joy and violence to claim an extraordinary – and fragile – position at the head of the French army. The battlefield and the royal court are full of dangers and Joan finds herself under suspicion from all sides – as well as under threat from her own ambition.

Katherine J. Chen’s Joan is a feminist reimagining of the life of Joan of Arc – a celebration of her remarkable journey through the ranks, leading France to several victories against the English.

Much is already known about Joan of Arc, subjected to visions of saints from age 13 but then burned at the stake at the age of 19 under scrutiny of being a heretic. In Katherine J. Chen’s version, Joan is less motivated by visions and more motivated by personal loss – one day when the English invade their town, Joan’s sister Catherine is savagely attacked and ends up committing suicide. Joan feels motivated in her quest for revenge on the men who brutalised her sister, and now, without her sister alive, she no longer feels she must stay in her hometown and continue to accept the beatings given to her by her demonising father.

“The circle turns. And the wheel spins back, three days after the fair, to the fists of Jacques d’Arc. This time, Joan is limping not in the direction of Hauviette’s cottage but toward the Bois Chenu. She cannot always seek sanctuary in the same places, and tonight she thinks her father’s mood is foul enough to pursue her.”

Chen uses Joan’s physicality as a way of crafting the character and differentiating her book from retellings that precede it. Joan, hated by her father and regularly beaten, grows to be an alarmingly large teenager who can fight back. She can break a man’s bones with just one hand.

We also come to see her as the skilled, intuitive fighter worthy of a following – she can best archers and sword fighters who have been training their whole lives. In Chen’s version, it’s less about Joan’s sense of religion and her miraculous calling from the saints, and more a portrayal of a woman who earns and maintains attention – someone who works hard and learns fast.

“It was an instant of extraordinary beauty. When he recalls the memory, he can’t help smiling. The leap, so perfect, into his arms, and he, seeing her pursuer, did not stop, had no intention of stopping, and looked as if he might thrash him, too, turned his back to Jacques and sprinted away.”

This retelling does seem to focus so heavily on Joan’s actions and her movements that we seem to lose a sense of her as a human being – I just never felt that I got a glimpse at who this Joan was as a person. Perhaps more inner monologue was required to achieve this, as most of the book seems centred around action and dialogue. I was just craving more of Joan’s voice so she didn’t appear to be one-dimensional.

“The moment panic makes her throat close is the moment she becomes aware of smoke and the smell of incense. A crowd is gathering, and a procession of monks heading her way. Joan sees a large wooden cross, wobbling slightly on the shoulder of its stooped bearer.”

Presenting a portrait much more relatable to the modern reader, Joan is recommended for readers of historical sagas and retellings – fans of Jennifer Saint will be a fitting audience for this one. Fans of Game of Thrones might feel that this Joan of Arc seems to bear resemblance to Brienne of Tarth. Readership skews female, 25+

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

Joan
Katherine J. Chen
July 2022
Hachette Book Publishers