JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

The Spill by Imbi Neeme

In 1982, a car overturns on a remote West Australian road. Nobody is hurt, but the impact is felt for decades.

Nicole and Samantha Cooper both remember the summer day when their mother, Tina, lost control of their car – but not in quite the same way. It is only after Tina’s death, almost four decades later, that the sisters are forced to reckon with the repercussions of the crash. Nicole, after years of aimless drifting, has finally found love, and yet can’t quite commit. And Samantha is hiding something that might just tear apart the life she’s worked so hard to build for herself.

Winner of the 2019 Penguin Literary Prize, Imbi Neeme’s debut novel The Spill is an exploration of family, sisters, memories, and how the past can sometimes unconsciously define our futures.

We meet Nicole and Samantha after their mother — Tina — loses control of the car in remote Western Australia and their father is forced to come and pick them up. It is assumed that Tina was drunk, or at least had been drinking, when she lost control of the car. Nicole and Samantha’s parent split soon after, and the accident causes a noticeable ripple affect within the family.

The Spill toys with memory and past events very well. As readers would understand, people can’t always remember events from their past very clearly. Conversations get misquoted and events get distorted over time.

As we move between past and present and come to understand more about Nicole and Samantha’s adult lives, they often bicker or disagree over memories from their childhood. Was Tina actually drinking that day? Why were they on a remote West Australian road? Where were they going? Why did their parents split up?

“Samantha closed her eyes and tried not to think of her husband drinking wine back in the dining room, or of the wine itself. But after a few seconds, the sound of rapid gunfire on the television made her open her eyes again.”

Imbi has crafted an incredible cast of characters in The Spill, each one incredibly fleshed out and three-dimensional, with layers of complexity and depth.

Characterisation is a key part of the story, and it would be incredibly important from Imbi to capture these two sisters differently. The narrative moves between past and present, but it also shifts focus between the sisters. And over time, we come to understand just how different each of these women are.

Both of them blame Tina’s alcoholism for her death. They both had strained relationships with their mother, and only after her death do they start to fill in some of the gaps in Tina’s life.

“Given how many career drunks were in attendance at Tina’s wake, precious little alcohol was being served. All around our large front living room, people were nursing empty glasses, their eyes occasionally darting towards the kitchen.”

The biggest ‘relationship’ explored in the novel, is that of Nicole and Samantha. Sisterhood is a funny thing. There sometimes seems to be more hate than love, particularly during childhood and adolescence, and then there’s a time in your adult lives where you might be too different to ever feel like you fully understand the other.

In The Spill, sometimes it’s the thing left unsaid that speak volumes. Samantha harbours a secret she feels she can control on her own, and Nicole has evidently struggled in past relationships but is reluctant to open up.

The shift between past and present allows for a slow build-up, a well-structured release of tension as secrets start emerging and buried conflicts rise to the surface.

“Their eyes met briefly and then Samantha looked away. She didn’t know why she’d brought up that Christmas. She knew neither of them wanted to think of the fight they’d had and how she’d gone to Nicole’s without him.”

The Spill is an incredibly satisfying, engrossing read. A warm, moving portrait of family and sisterhood. There are moments of humour and lighthearted fun, but there are also moments of tenderness and heartbreak, events that force you to really take stock and reflect as a reader.

Recommended for fans of literary fiction, family sagas, and quality Australian literature.

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

The Spill
Imbi Neeme
June 2020
Penguin Random House Publishers

The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett

The Vignes twin sisters will always be identical. But after growing up together in a small, southern black community and running away at age sixteen, it’s not just the shape of their daily lives that is different as adults, it’s everything: their families, their communities, their racial identities.

Ten years later, one sister lives with her black daughter in the same southern town she once tried to escape. The other secretly passes for white, and her white husband knows nothing of her past. Still, even separated by so many miles and just as many lies, the fates of the twins remain intertwined. What will happen to the next generation, when their own daughters’ story lines intersect?

From author Brit Bennett comes The Vanishing Half, another powerful, epic novel that weaves multiple strands and generations of one family, spanning the Deep South of the United States to California and New York, and set between the 1950s to the 1990s.

In The Vanishing Half, we meet identical twin sisters Stella and Desiree, who grow up in the small town of Mallard, Louisiana — it’s inhabited by people who strive to marry lighter. When they’re sixteen, the twins stage their runaway and settle into a new life in New Orleans. However, Stella soon disappears to lead her own life and the book documents how their lives progress over the next couple of decades.

The Vanishing Half explores identity, and the impact of decisions and choices, and how childhoods and adolescent years have a lasting influence on how a person shapes the rest of their life. While Stella and Desiree both came from the same family and the same small town, the stark contrast between their adult lives — Desiree is a single mother running from an abusive husband, and Stella is trying to pass as a white woman in an affluent, all-white LA neighbourhood — illustrate how differently they regard their origins.

“Leaving Mallard was Desiree’s idea but staying in New Orleans was Stella’s, and for years, Desiree would puzzle over why. When the twins first arrived in the city, they found work together in the mangle room at Dixie Laundry, folding sheets and pillowcases for two dollars a day.”

The writing is exquisite — poetic and lyrical, and so incredible I felt absorbed in the story from beginning to end. Brit has a way of weaving sentences together; they’re paired back and they hit the reader straight, but they also evoke incredible imagery and emotion.

The novel weaves between past and present incredibly well, inviting the reader into Desiree and Stella’s childhoods to explain why they left, where they went, and how they separated. The Vanishing Half does span decades, allowing us to meet the girls’ children. Desiree returns home to Mallard with her eight-year-old daughter Jude, and a decade later, Jude is pursuing a career as an athlete when she meets Kennedy — Stella’s daughter, an aspiring actress.

“She felt pathetic, drinking alone in the middle of the day, but what else could she do? She needed a job. Money. A plan. But those children staring at her daughter. The deputy dismissing her. Sam gripping her throat. She waved over Lorna again, wanting to forget it all.”

The Vanishing Half features a cast of characters who are all fleeing in search of a better life. There’s Desiree and Stella, and their children Jude and Kennedy. Additionally, Jude meets and falls in love with a trans man called Reese, who has run away from his unsupportive family.

Brit draws parallels between many of the characters.

Stella and Desiree’s plights are noticeably reminiscent in their children’s lives. Jude leaves Mallard to pursue bigger dreams, much like her mother, and Kennedy spends a lot of time trying to better understand her mother and her origins — Stella is incredibly closed off, and reluctant to share information on her childhood.

The Vanishing Half is a crisp examination of racism in 1950s-1980s America. Stella’s decision to “pass” as white allows her to forge a comfortable, safe existence with considerable wealth. Stella’s life improves after she casts her family aside and starts pretending to be a white woman, but Desiree — who marries a black man and gives birth to a “blueback” baby — goes through incredible torment and pain before fleeing back to Mallard to live with her mother again.

“The landlady grew silent after that, then said she had to go. A coloured man asking after a white woman — she’d already said too much. But not enough for Early, who hadn’t even found a forwarding address.”

Rich and riveting, The Vanishing Half will have you enraptured and mesmerised. Recommended for all readers, particularly fans of literary fiction and stories that sweep across generations of family.

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

The Vanishing Half
Brit Bennett
June 2020
Hachette Book Publishers

The Half Sister by Sandie Jones

Her arrival will ruin everything.

Kate and Lauren. Sisters who are always there for each other. But as they gather for their weekly Sunday lunch, a knock on the door changes everything.

The new arrival, Jess, claims to be their half-sister, but that would mean the unthinkable . . . That she’s the secret daughter of their beloved, recently deceased father Harry. Their mother Rose is devastated and Kate and Lauren refuse to believe Jess’s lies.

But as the fall-out starts it’s clear that each is hiding secrets and that perhaps this family isn’t as perfect as they appear.

Where there was truth, now there are lies and only one thing is certain, their half-sister’s arrival has ruined everything . . .

Set in London, Sandie Jones’ The Half Sister is a psychological family drama that kicks off when an illegitimate sibling turns up to a Sunday lunch family gathering.

Until the tail end of the book, this reads like a family saga more than the thriller we’re promised. Kate and Lauren buried their father one year earlier, and are shocked when “Jess” turns up and claims to be their half sister. Kate refuses to believe their father was unfaithful to their mother Rose. Lauren welcomes Jess with open arms, desperate to believe her.

The premise is intriguing and will capture a reader, and there are elements to the story that readers will enjoy. The ‘psychological thriller’ doesn’t weave its way into the novel until at least halfway, but the tension between family members is engaging enough to maintain interest.

“When Simon was working, the pressure eased off a little, as Lauren didn’t need to worry so much about where the next penny was coming from. But on the occasions he was laid off, which as a labourer on a building site were often, both their purse strings and Simon’s moods, Lauren noticed, were more difficult to manage.”

Kate is envious of her sister’s life, because Lauren is married with three children and Kate is desperately trying to conceive a baby with her husband. Lauren is envious of Kate because Lauren’s husband is controlling and abusive, and Kate’s life seems incredibly glamorous and not weighed down by children. Each sister doesn’t realise just how much the other is struggling.

Kate and Lauren can both be pretty unlikeable. Lauren is trapped in a loveless marriage and clings to a complete stranger for friendship. Kate is incredibly dismissive to the possibility she has a half sister — her relationship with Lauren has no resemblance of chemistry or familial bond. I found both characters — and Simon — to be like cardboard cut-outs.

“Whilst Lauren worked twelve-hour shifts on nigh-on minimum wage, Kate had gleefully regaled her with regular jet-setting jaunts to meet the stars. If she wasn’t in LA interviewing A-listers, she was on tour with pop stars. Lauren has lost count of how many times Kate had attended the red carpet at the Oscars.”

Whilst the novel as a whole is interesting and you will keep reading to find out whether Jess really is who she says she is, there were some flaws that were hard to ignore. The ‘villain’ of the book was obvious from quite early on, so when the murder mystery does present itself the reader will already feel like they know who is responsible.

Not only did Simon feel stereotypical, but the climax and resolution of his character was brief and unsatisfying. There’s a lot of build up for his character to really explode, and then he disappears rather quickly — the ‘danger’ no longer present.

There was a distinct lack of believability to Jess and Lauren’s friendship. I believed Kate’s reaction more than Lauren’s, because Lauren’s decision-making felt farfetched and unrealistic.

Lastly, it’s awfully convenient that Lauren has a childhood memory of her Dad and a woman with a pram. That one memory pushed the story forward quite a few times and it seemed a little too good to be true.

“Lauren is on cloud nine when she wakes up and realises that the plethora of dreams she’d had were just a realistic extension of the evening she’d had. She smiles, desperate to stay in her happy cocoon for just a little bit longer.”

Recommended for fans of family sagas and family dramas.

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

The Half Sister
Sandie Jones
June 2020
Pan Macmillan Publishers

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins

Ambition will fuel him. Competition will drive him. But power has its price.

It is the morning of the reaping that will kick off the tenth annual Hunger Games. In the Capitol, eighteen-year-old Coriolanus Snow is preparing for his one shot at glory as a mentor in the Games. The once-mighty house of Snow has fallen on hard times, its fate hanging on the slender chance that Coriolanus will be able to out charm, outwit, and out manoeuvre his fellow students to mentor the winning tribute.

The odds are against him. He’s been given the humiliating assignment of mentoring the female tribute from District 12, the lowest of the low. Their fates are now completely intertwined — every choice Coriolanus makes could lead to favour or failure, triumph or ruin. Inside the arena, it will be a fight to the death. Outside the arena, Coriolanus starts to feel for his doomed tribute… and must weigh his need to follow the rules against his desire to survive no matter what it takes.

Fans of The Hunger Games will remember Coriolanus Snow as the ruthless and fascist President of Panem. In Suzanne Collins’ prequel, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, readers will come to understand his backstory — how did Snow go from teenager to bitter tyrant?

In this setting, the Capitol are up to their 10th Hunger Games and things are very different from how we see them over sixty years later. Nobody is watching the Games, especially in the poorer districts where they don’t even have televisions. The Capitol need to switch things up to increase excitement in the games, and Snow has a natural ability to ponder disastrous ways to engage new audiences.

There are three parts to the novel — Snow meeting Lucy Gray and gearing up for the Hunger Games, the Hunger Games themselves, and then afterwards, where Snow spends time in District 12 with his friend Sejanus and Snow’s humanity slowly starts to dissipate.

“Could there be a bigger slap in the face?” Coriolanus wonders. “District 12, the smallest district, the joke district, with its stunted, joint-swollen kids that always died in the first five minutes, and not only that . . . but the girl?”

Lucy Gray is a fascinating and complex character — she’s a talented singer with the charm and confidence to fascinate the Hunger Games crowds. Fans will find joy when they realise that the songs we learnt in The Hunger Games — The Hanging Tree, for example — were written and sung by Lucy Gray. We come to understand the history and the significance of these songs, which is a nice touch.

Because the book is written in third person, we experience events as Snow does and we never really come to understand what’s going on inside his mind. We witness as he betrays friends and kills people, but we never experience his thoughts or conflicts and it’s both a clever and chilling stylistic device.

“He’d been to the arena several times as a small boy, to see the circus, mostly, but also to cheer military displays under his father’s command. For the past nine years he’d watched at least part of the Games on television.”

This book explores the evolution of Snow but is also explores the evolution of the Hunger Games. In the beginning, we understand just how uninterested people are in them. The Capitol want to use the games to exert control over the districts, but they can’t quite work out how to do that. By the end, Snow has plenty of ideas on how to increase obsession with the Hunger Games, and it gives readers a chilling premonition because we know just how successful the Hunger Games end up being.

The novel isn’t without its flaws. The pacing was inconsistent. It takes a long time before the Games start, and they don’t actually go for that long. And then we follow a rather slow journey to the climax of the story. Whilst I loved the ending and truly felt surprised by the story of Lucy Gray and the conclusion to her tale (not a spoiler), I felt a little cheated that it took so long to get there.

Additionally, I never believed Snow’s hatred for mockingjays. It felt like it was put into the story purely to provide another connection to The Hunger Games.

“Some of the tributes dropped in their seats, chins almost on their chests, but the more defiant ones tilted their heads back and surveyed the hall. It was one of the most impressive chambers in the Capitol, and several mouths gaped open, awed by the grandeur of the marble columns, the arched windows, the vaulted ceiling.”

Recommended for fans of The Hunger Games. You’ll find yourself captivated by the setting and the story, and engaged long enough to see the story through to the end. 14+

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

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
Suzanne Collins
May 2020
Scholastic Publishers Australia

The Minute I Saw You by Paige Toon

When Hannah meets Sonny, she’s irresistibly drawn to him: he’s sexy and confident, but only in town on holiday. That’s fine with Hannah – she doesn’t do long-term relationships. And luckily for her, neither does Sonny.

But as summer hots up and their chemistry shows no signs of cooling, they start to question their reasons for shutting each other out.

Are they both too broken to find love? And if they tear down the walls between them, will they still like what’s on the other side?

The Minute I Saw You by Paige Toon is a heartfelt romantic comedy about falling in love and all the complexities that come with it.

This is another enjoyable romantic comedy from Paige; The Minute I Saw You feels like the literary equivalent of a warm hug. There are definitely moments of darkness and heaviness in this story, particularly around sexual abuse and the characters using sex to mask deeper issues. But at its core, this novel follows a budding romance between two people who could not be more perfect for each other.

Additionally, the supporting characters are just as engaging as Hannah and Sonny. They add an added layer of humour and joy to the story.

“His lips lift up into a half-smile and he throws me a sideways look. He makes very little eye contact when he’s low, I’ve noticed, so when it does come, it sparks a small jolt inside my ribcage.”

This is the second Paige Toon novel I’ve read, and there’s certainly an escapist feel to her writing. The stories are heartfelt but also light and welcoming, inviting to all audiences. Whilst this book is undeniably for adults — it’s very sexy — I can see the readership being as young as twenty.

Dialogue is one of the strengths of this novel — it’s realistic and relatable, and captures each character’s voice with ease.

The storyline itself feels fairly predictable. The plot follows the boy-meets-girl premise but also includes the boy-has-issues-he-needs-to-work-through-before-they-can-be-together narrative device. It’s not entirely original, but Paige has woven a story together with characters that feel unique and refreshing, and a delight to get to know.

“After a while he asks if I’d mind him putting his headphones on and listening to music. I start to flick through my magazine, but it’s hard to concentrate. I feel as though a chasm has opened up between us.”

Setting is another strong element to this story, taking us through the idyllic English countryside where everyone runs into each other on the street, and time spent together feels quaint and cosy.

The Minute I Saw You uncovers some intense emotional trauma for both of the main characters, but Paige manages this with sensitivity and compassion. Each twist to the story is intricately woven into the chapters, and will please readers.

Whilst sometimes the storylines felt a little far-fetched at times — particularly Hannah’s backstory — there is enough reliability in this story for a reader to immerse themselves in.

“My eyes widen and his do too. He retreats slightly to put more distance between us, but it only makes me want to close the gap. It takes an immense amount of willpower to hold back.”

Filled to the brim with romance, angst and characters you can’t help but love, The Minute I Saw You is contemporary fiction recommended for romance fans.

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

The Minute I Saw You
Paige Toon
May 2020
Penguin Random House