JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

The Marriage Portrait by Maggie O’Farrell

Florence, the 1560s. Lucrezia, third daughter of Cosimo de’ Medici, is free to wander the palazzo at will, wondering at its treasures and observing its clandestine workings. But when her older sister dies on the eve of marriage to Alfonso d’Este, ruler of Ferrara, Modena and Reggio, Lucrezia is thrust unwittingly into the limelight: the duke is quick to request her hand in marriage, and her father to accept on her behalf.

Having barely left girlhood, Lucrezia must now make her way in a troubled court whose customs are opaque and where her arrival is not universally welcomed. Perhaps most mystifying of all is her husband himself, Alfonso. Is he the playful sophisticate her appears before their wedding, the aesthete happiest in the company of artists and musicians, or the ruthless politician before whom even his formidable sisters seem to tremble?

As Lucrezia sits in uncomfortable finery for the painting which is to preserve her image for centuries to come, one thing becomes worryingly clear. In the court’s eyes, she has one duty: to provide the heir who will shore up the future of the Ferrarese dynasty. Until then, for all of her rank and nobility, her future hangs entirely in the balance.

Set at the heart of the treacherous political world of the Italian Renaissance, Maggie O’Farrell’s The Marriage Portrait centres around a young woman’s tumultuous marriage to someone she is convinced will murder her.

O’Farrell has found her comfort zone with 16th century heroines. In The Marriage Portrait, she crafts a story around Lucrezia, who was the third child of Medici, ruler of Florence. Married off at age 13 to the Duke of Ferrara – Alfonso – she died not long after the wedding and was long thought to have been poisoned by her husband. In The Marriage Portrait, O’Farrell imagines a story around this historical saga, brining Lucrezia and Alfonso to life with a vivid tale.

“Lucrezia said nothing, just pulled a piece of parchment towards her. It was the only way to deal with Isabella’s fits of temper: ignore them, let them run their course. Securing the page with one hand, she held her pen poised. How to begin? Dearest Alfonso? Your excellency?”

Structurally, we first meet Lucrezia one year into her marriage. Failing to fall pregnant and give Alfonso an heir, she knows that he will murder her so that he can re-marry. The novel then moves back in time so we can understand how Lucrezia came to be in this situation.

The setup of the novel is beguiling and intriguing, and the latter third of the book builds in an enticing manner, but for most of the novel the pacing lacks and the tension never builds to where it needs to be. Perhaps the novel is too long. Perhaps too few characters cross our path and so we’re largely forced to read only about Lucrezia who grows a bit monotonous at certain points in the novel.

Truthfully, I wanted to love this novel but in reality, I had to force myself to continue.

“The plaits are arranged, criss-crossing her head, looping over hear ears and the jewels there, up the curve of her neck, and secured at the crown of her head. The veil is brought down around her while they affix the golden diadem, brought by Vitelli himself, from the iron-lined strongroom.”

One of the strengths of the novel does include O’Farrell’s description – rich and full, if at times a little too lavish and long. She revels in how she brings an author to a setting and an interaction; O’Farrell cannot be accused of stripping back her prose too much. At times though, her description boggles and slows down the pacing, traps its reader instead of keeping us propelled forward.

I wonder if there just wasn’t enough to the plotting to craft a faster paced story, and so Maggie had to fill the gaps with excessive prose that brought the novel to an unnecessary 440 pages.

“Except for little Lucrezia, tucked into a bed with both her sisters in a room under the eaves of the palazzo roof. Lucrezia of the solemn gaze and pale, wispy hair – incongruously so, for all her siblings had the sleek fox-dark colouring of their Spanish mamma.”

The Marriage Portrait is best suited to historical fiction readers, with a particular pursuit towards literary fiction. Readership skews 40+

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

The Marriage Portrait
Maggie O’Farrell
September 2022
Hachette 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

Elektra by Jennifer Saint

The House of Atreus is cursed. A bloodline tainted by a generational cycle of violence and vengeance. This is the story of three women, their fates inextricably tied to this curse, and the fickle nature of men and gods.

Clytemnestra
The sister of Helen, wife of Agamemnon – her hopes of averting the curse are dashed when her sister is taken to Troy by the feckless Paris. Her husband raises a great army against them and determines to win, whatever the cost.

Cassandra
Princess of Troy, and cursed by Apollo to see the future but never to be believed when she speaks of it. She is powerless in her knowledge that the city will fall.

Elektra
The youngest daughter of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon, Elektra is horrified by the bloodletting of her kin. But can she escape the curse, or is her own destiny also bound by violence?

Another absorbing and vivid retelling of ancient Greek myth, Jennifer Saint’s Elektra narrows in on the Trojan War and tells the ill-fated story of Clytemnestra and her tumultuous marriage to Agamemnon, as well as the tale of their daughter Elektra. Across the sea in Troy, we meet a young Cassandra, who is blessed with foresight but is cursed in that no one believes her premonitions.

When Elektra is a young girl, her father Agamemnon leads an army across the ocean to wage war against Troy. Her mother, Clytemnestra, seethes with rage for ten years because of what Agamemnon was willing to sacrifice to ensure safe passage across the seas. And over in Troy, Cassandra can foresee Troy’s demise but is powerless to stop it. Written in first person, Jennifer Saint’s Elektra follows these three women as they navigate this extended but turbulent era of history.

After reading the fantastic Ariadne last year, I was excited to devour this one. Jennifer crafts these mythical stories with great imagination — bringing to life long-known legends and tales of iconic Greek figures.

“At first, Agamemnon was a generous, joyful ruler of Mycenae, his project of uniting all the Greeks a long-held ambition that he was grateful to be realising. But, slowly, peevishness began to settle over him and I saw him fretting from time to time.”

Jennifer Saint’s writing is always rich and well-developed, bringing fierce women to life with emotion and vitality. Clytemnestra, in particular, felt the most visceral and animated, as we can easily relate to her feelings of anger and betrayal. She certainly felt the most candid as she played the long game — she waited ten years for Agamemnon to return so she can carry out her long-planned murder.

Pacing maintains throughout the novel, and Cassandra’s voice ads depth to the story because she is situated on the opposite side of the story. Jennifer Saint is bold in her depiction of these women — their narration is concise and observant, and they each provide an interesting element to the tale. Whilst I didn’t connect with Elektra as much as the other women – not until the end of the novel anyway — I still appreciated her perspective of the saga. She’s certainly the most loyal of the three women.

From memory, Jennifer’s previous release Ariadne featured a fair bit of info dumping in the book, but Elektra did not. Jennifer wove in information with more consideration, which will not go unappreciated by readers.

“I bathed her body alone. The cloths were soft, the water warm. I pulled away the ruined dress, her wedding dress. I kissed her clean skin. When she was small, she would shriek with laughter when I buried my face in the plump folds of her arms, the dimpled knees.”

Admittedly, it initially feels like quite the task trying to grasp the characters and settings. I was somewhat familiar with these Greek figures, particularly Clytemnestra, and yet I was struggling in the beginning to confirm her connection with Cassandra, and the backstory of her sister Helen and her marriage to Agamemnon.

“She was lying to herself; I could see it. She had made a convincing case, but she was wrong. I opened my mouth to tell her so, but I looked at Paris’ face again before I spoke.”

Documenting a period of history worth remembering, Elektra is emotion-laden and recommended for readers of historical sagas, and fans of Greek mythology. Readership skews female, 25+

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

Elektra
Jennifer Saint
May 2022
Hachette Book Publishers Australia

The Secrets of Bridgewater Bay by Julie Brooks

England, 1919: Rose and Ivy board a ship bound for Australia. One is travelling there to marry a man she has never met. One is destined never to arrive.

Australia, 2016: Amongst her late-grandmother’s possessions, Molly uncovers a photograph of two girls dressed in First World War nurses’ uniforms, labelled ‘Rose and Ivy 1917’, and a letter from her grandmother, asking her to find out what happened to her own mother, Rose, who disappeared in the 1960s.

Compelled to carry out her grandmother’s last wish, Molly embarks on a journey to England to unravel the mystery of the two girls whose photograph promised they’d be ‘together forever’…

Julie Brooks’ The Secrets of Bridgewater Bay is a dual-timeline historical fiction debut, transporting readers from WWI England to present day Australia. Centred around two young women — friends for a decade but bound together by a shocking secret — who set sail for a new life in Australia.

In present day, Australian woman Molly is searching for the truth behind her great-grandmother’s disappearance over fifty years earlier. Not a lot is known about the reclusive and camera-shy Rose, and Molly travels to England to find out more about Rose’s upbringing, in the hope it may come to understand what really happened to her.

“For months she had imagined that Ivy, like Rose, had migrated to Australia and begun a new life. She had envisaged her as the matriarch of a clan with a long, fruitful life. For whatever reason, Rose’s life had turned sour; she hoped that her friend’s had worked out happier.”

Julie Brooks captures the friendship between Ivy and Rose incredibly well — their initial close bond and the idea that they’ll be best friends forever. But, over time, Rose starts to inhabit the role expected of her — the privileged, wealthy young woman on the cusp of taking her place in society. Perhaps without realising, she starts to treat Ivy like a servant not like a friend, and bitter tension builds between them. As secrets come to light, the friendship soon deteriorates.

As someone who reads a lot of historical fiction, I found this novel incredibly refreshing. A mystery about a great-grandmother (not a grandmother) offers something a little different to the genre. That extra generation accounts for limited knowledge about that character, forcing a deeper dig into their life to find out the truth. It also means the connection between Molly and Rose is limited, given the age difference, so the story doesn’t rely on memories or emotional connection between the characters and more on facts and evidence, which provides a more thrilling, fast-paced story.

“But Rose knew that Ivy did indeed care. She always cared what her da would do, because he had a history of doing unpleasant things. Rose couldn’t remember her own father, but she couldn’t imagine him taking to her with a willow stick or shutting her in the coal box for an afternoon.”

Class plays an important role in this novel — whilst Rose is from a wealthy, privileged family, her best friend Ivy comes from a poor, abusive household. No one expects her to secure a comfortable life, so Ivy has to believe in herself if she’s going to rise above her surroundings. She refuses to be a servant or maid for the rest of her life, and is looking for a way to carve a respectable path for herself.

The only fault I can give this novel is the prevalence of perhaps a few too many signs that point towards the twist. Molly’s memories of Rose — her personality and her hatred of being in photographs, in particular — made it a little too easy to guess the ending of the novel. But apart from that, this is one of my favourite historical fiction reads from the past 12 months.

“Molly woke breathless, struggling to escape the undertow of her dream. Plunging her face into the pillow, she tried to vanquish the lingering images. Yet in the blackness her father was there, along with the ghostly form of the long-dead Rose, drifting before her eyes.”

A rich, sweeping tale of betrayal, and how long-held family secrets can tear apart even the strongest of friendships. Recommended for historical fiction readers, The Secrets of Bridgewater Bay is skewed towards female readers, 25+

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

The Secrets of Bridgewater Bay
Julie Brooks
January 2022
Hachette Book Publishers

Six Tudor Queens: Katharine Parr by Alison Weir

A woman torn between love and duty.

Two husbands dead, a boy and a sick man. And now Katharine is free to make her own choice. The ageing King’s eye falls upon her. She cannot refuse him… or betray that she wanted another. She becomes the sixth wife – a queen and a friend. Henry loves and trusts her. But Katharine is hiding another secret in her heart, a deeply held faith that could see her burn…

Katharine Parr. Henry’s final Queen.

And so my favourite historical fiction series comes to a conclusion. Anyone who has been reading my reviews for the past few years will know how much I love Alison Weir’s Tudor Queens series. With meticulous research and appropriate embellishment to make for an interesting read, I’m quite sad that this is the final book in the series.

You can read my reviews of the preceding books in the series HERE.

In each novel, Alison presents a fictional account of each of Henry VIII’s wives, from their childhood all the way through to their death. Whilst each book is considered fiction, it’s clear how much research and factual information has been used to paint these portraits — Alison always explains her basis in the Author’s Note at the end of each novel.

Henry’s sixth and final wife, Katharine Parr, might just be one of his more mature and intelligent wives. She outlives him, of course, but she seems to be the only wife that manages to keep secrets from him and not get caught. Katharine knows when to fight her battles — she’s courageous and confident, but she’s also aware of her weaknesses. Given she was married four times in her relatively short life, she makes for an interesting story.

“It was June when Mother arrived, looking every inch the great lady in damask and jewels. Her manner when she greeted Lord Borough at the outer door was imperious, as befitted one who served the Queen. But Mother did not know that he despised Queen Katherine and knew that she was out of favour at court.”

Sharp and engrossing, fans of the Tudor age will find themselves enthralled in Katharine’s story. Whilst Katherine wasn’t thrilled to marry the King, she does so in the hopes she can sway him towards religious reforms. She practices her faith in secret, working to step away from Catholicism. Faith is an element that wasn’t explored as deeply through the other Queen’s perspectives, so it added something unique to this final book.

Like the other Queens, Katharine Parr works to position herself in roles of power, even though the time period didn’t benefit women. But unlike the others, Katherine knew when to fight and when to accept defeat, and that’s probably the reason she outlived the King.

“It was hard practicing her new faith in secret. She had to make an outward show of following religious custom, for she was too fearful of reprisals if she betrayed her true beliefs.”

Admittedly, it does take a bit of time for Katharine’s path to cross with King Henry, but Katherine does live a rather eventful life up until then. With two marriages and two dead husbands, it feels like she’s lived a lifetime by the time she’s crowned Queen. And her story is definitely not over then. I think some readers might find themselves surprised to love this book – Katharine Parr certainly isn’t the most well known of Henry’s six wives, but Alison crafts her into quite the interesting woman.

“Over the following days, she agonised over whether she should be encouraging Thomas’ friendship. The angel on her shoulder told her she should not, but the devil on the other assured her that it could do no harm.”

I feel there’s no more praise left to give for this series. Alison Weir’s Six Tudor Queens is highly recommended for fans of historical fiction, but I’d recommend you go back to the very beginning with Henry’s first Queen, Katherine of Aragon, to experience the full chronological journey. Readership skews female, 30+

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

Six Tudor Queens: Katharine Parr, The Sixth Wife
Alison Weir
May 2021
Hachette Book Publishers