JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

The Aunts’ House by Elizabeth Stead

Sydney, 1942

Recently orphaned, Angel Martin moves into ab oarding house populated by an assortment of eccentric and colourful characters. She’s befriended by the gregarious Winifred Varnham – a vision in exotic fabrics – and the numerically gifted Barnaby Grange. But not everyone is kind and her scrimping landlady, Missus Potts, is only the beginning of Angel’s troubles.

Angel refuses to accept her fate and focusses her affections on her two maiden aunts. Despite their resistance, she is determined to forge a sense of belonging. Her visits to the aunts’ house on the Bay soon expand her world in ways she couldn’t have imagined.

Elizabeth Stead brings her classic subversive wit and personal insight to this nostalgic portrait of wartime Sydney. In Angel Martin, she has created a singular and irrepressible character. A true original.

Literary fiction novel The Aunt’s House is a quirky, charming tale of family, legacy and identity. Sydney author Elizabeth Stead brings warmth and wit to the novel, and a three-dimensional protagonist who readers have no choice but to adore.

The novel is set in 1942, and eleven-year-old Angel Martin is an orphan and the newest addition to a boarding house run by Missus Potts. Her father died many years earlier, and her mother has just passed away whilst living in a sanatorium. Angel is unwanted by her paternal aunts because they believe her mother was responsible for their brother’s death years earlier.

The novel was a bit of a slow start for me, the direction of the story a little unclear and my faith in the story wavering. But, over time, I grew to love little Angel and her resilient personality. The book is written from Angel’s perspective, but in third person, and so we learn to love her voice. It’s a bit stream of conscious, but also really hopeful and glass-half-full. She’s quite a quirky, strange girl and so her narration reflects that throughout the book.

There are moments of humour peppered throughout the story, amidst moments of darkness. A few of the men in the boarding house either try, or succeed, to sexually abuse Angel. She doesn’t seem to dwell on the assault much and pushes it out of her mind, and perhaps this is her method of avoiding and ignoring what happened so that she doesn’t have to confront the events.

“Angel liked to think B and K truly loved each other — she wanted them to love each other and she wanted them to be married and have lots of babies. But perhaps the whole thing might have been just a dream and nothing happened at all. It might just have been hearts on fire at first sight between stops.”

Mental illness is a strong theme throughout the book. Angel’s mother was living in a sanatorium when she died, and a lot of people in Angel’s life think she’s inherited her mother’s mental instability. Angel does what she wants, when she wants, and people find her tough and hard to manage.

Another strong theme is family and companionship. Angel forms friendships with numerous people in town and their bonds strengthen over the course of the novel. In the boarding house, she strikes up a friendship with the insightful Barnaby Grange, and the interesting and eccentric Winifred Warnham. She also regularly takes the tram to see her Aunts, who do not want her in their home. But Angel is determined and loveable, and soon, a connection is formed.

“She tried to remember what her father looked like before the accident but her remembrance was more a smell. Not a tram smell. Sunday was a tram smell, the electric smell of wood and rails and hot cables. No, the smell of her father she remembered was motorcycle racing fuel and the sight of it in leaked black patches on the backyard grass.”

The Aunt’s House is about the complexities of humans, and the importance of not passing judgment onto others. The characters in the book are all very unique, but they’re a clever and fun bunch of characters and I thoroughly enjoyed reading about them all.

I’d recommend this to readers of adult fiction and lovers of literary works. This is incredibly character-driven, and so perfect for fans of complex and dimensional fiction.

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

The Aunts’ House
Elizabeth Stead
April 2019
UQP Publishers

Hare’s Fur by Trevor Shearston

What a swift odd turn his life had taken. A teenage girl with a ring in her nose was sliding ware into his drying racks.

Russell Bass is a potter living on the edge of Katoomba, in the Blue Mountains. His wife has been dead less than a year and, although he has a few close friends, he is living a mostly solitary life. Each month he hikes into the valley below his house to collect rock for glazes from a remote creek bed. One autumn morning, he finds a chocolate wrapper on the path. His curiosity leads him to a cave where three siblings — two young children and a teenage girl — are camped out, hiding from social services and the police.

Although they bolt at first, Russell slowly gains their trust, and, little by little, this unlikely group of outsiders begin to form a fragile bond.

In luminous prose that captures the feel of hands on clay and the smell of cold rainforest as vividly as it does the minute twists and turns of human relationships, Hare’s Fur tells an exquisite story of grief, kindness, art, and the transformation that can grow from the seeds of trust.

Hare’s Fur by Trevor Shearston is a literary novella about life, family, loss and the fragility of life and everything in it.

‘Hare’s fur’ is a specific pottery pattern that resembles the fur of a rabbit. Protagonist Russell is in his seventies and lives alone in the Blue Mountains. He is a professional potter. Russell takes a lot of time with his work, making sure to give everything due attention and detail. Russell applies that same attention and concern to the three kids he meets in the woods. They’re frightened and wary, and he is determined to earn their trust and help them.

“He was startled on the return walk when a small hand took his. The boy didn’t risk looking to his face for consent. He gripped back and shortened stride, coughing to swallow away the tightness in his throat. He couldn’t, and finally had to pretend to sneeze so he could wipe his eyes. He thought he must have held a child’s hand since Michael, but couldn’t think whose child.”

Hare’s Fur is rich with description and imagery, taking the reader on a journey of observation and reflection. The symbolism of the story and the characters is not lost. Russell works with pottery — fragile objects. He lives alone since his wife suddenly passed, and he doesn’t have many friends.

These three kids he meets are fragile too, much like the objects he works with. They’ve run away from a troubled home life, a broken family. He befriends them and earns their trust. They have much to learn from each other.

Unfortunately, the pacing really bothered me for most of this novel. There’s so much internal monologue and so much detailed description, that I felt the story was moving too slowly for it to really grip me. I found my attention waning — I found myself flicking through to see how many pages I had left to go.

“The fire was dead, but sitting round and black in the ashes was an object it took him a moment to recognise, so long since he’d seen one, a cast-iron camp oven. It must already have been here, no child could have carried it. The cutlery looked to be of the same vintage, with thick tines and handles.”

Hare’s Fur will be ideal for readers who are looking for character-driven stories, and not necessarily plot-driven. This is for readers who love a slow burn, with overly descriptive imagery and paragraphs. If you’re looking for something fast-paced, then this book isn’t for you.

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

Hare’s Fur
Trevor Shearston
March 2019
Scribe Publications

The Things We Cannot Say by Kelly Rimmer


2019: Life changed beyond recognition for Alice when her son, Eddie, was born with autism spectrum disorder. She must do everything to support him, but at what cost to her family? When her cherished grandmother is hospitalised, a hidden box of mementoes reveals a tattered photo of a young man, a tiny leather shoe and a letter. Her grandmother begs Alice to return to Poland to see what became of those she held dearest.

WWII: Alina and Tomasz are childhood sweethearts. The night before he leaves for college, Tomasz proposes marriage. But when their village falls to the Nazis, Alina doesn’t know if Tomasz is alive or dead.

2019: In Poland, separated from her family, Alice begins to uncover the story her grandmother is so desperate to tell, and discovers a love that bloomed in the winter of 1942. As a painful family history comes to light, will the struggles of the past and present finally reach a heartbreaking resolution?

The Things We Cannot Say by Kelly Rimmer explores the legacy of war and the far-reaching effects of family secrets.

Like most historical fiction novels, this story has two dual POV storylines threaded together. The first, set during WWII, and the other, set in the present in 2019. The women are the centre of both storylines.

In the past, there’s Alina, a young girl whose fiancé has left for college and whose future is in doubt. And in the present, Alice is a mother of two. Her son has autism and she’s the main caretaker of her two children. She feels unsupported by her husband, who works long hours and leaves Alice to do most of the work.

“I plan out Eddie’s visual calendar, lay out his clothing and then pack his school bag — the dreidel, which he’s still taking with him everywhere he goes, his stuffed Thomas the Tank Engine toy just in case he wants it, six Go-Gurts, one can of soup and six pairs of spare underpants, each with a matching ziplock bag for the inevitable accidents.”
ALICE

I felt more emotionally invested in Alice’s storyline that Alina’s. Alina’s story felt slow. Perhaps it was the events that took place, or perhaps it was the pacing. Part of me suspects it was both. But I felt that Alina’s chapters could’ve been more succinct and punchier. There was enough emotion and heartache to keep the reader invested, but the pacing did lag a little.

Although this particular storyline is very rich with hope. Alina loves Tomasz and is desperate to see his safe return. Alina may be young, but she’s also smart, resourceful and very aware of her surroundings. She’s helpful and trusting, and she learns how to survive the sad and grim situation that she’s in.

“It was the young soldier from that day in fall, the last time I wore a dress. He was back, and he was asking about me. I was too terrified to cry out, but equally, I was too terrified to control myself and I couldn’t think rationally enough to be sure of what I might do next.”
ALINA

Alice is a flawed character. She cares deeply for her son and she’s a good mother, but her attitude is, at times, constricted. She wants her husband, Wade, to help more, she wishes he understood more, but she doesn’t really allow him the opportunity to step up. She expects him to fail. Often, she keeps her mouth shut and seethes in silence. Other times, she waits until he makes a mistake and then snaps at him.

But Wade is not perfect either. He shuts himself off and focuses on his work, and as a result, he’s not the most attentive father. He allows his wife to do everything for the kids. So, when Alice goes to Poland to delve deep into her grandmother’s childhood, her husband finally realises just how much Alice has been doing for their family. He is defeated, and at a loss. But also, he learns to be the man he should’ve been all along.

This storyline is about family, marriage and sacrifice. It shows us how a marriage can change when a child requires more care than they thought. A child with autism does require a lot of attention, and that can strain any relationship.

“I still think about my big brothers. I sometimes wonder if I would have done anything different that day, if only I’d known that within a year they’d both be dead — and that those quiet moments by the train station would be the very last time I ever saw them.”
ALINA

Kelly Rimmer has captured two very different time periods — and two very different relationships. In Alina and Tomasz, we see young love torn apart by war and horror. In Alice and Wade, we see a love that has been clouded by exhaustive, complicated circumstances.

Readers will be able to relate to all of the characters in the book, even the ones who have lived through experiences that we could not possibly understand. I’d recommend this to readers of historical fiction, and those readers who love a family saga that spans decades.

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

The Things We Cannot Say
Kelly Rimmer
March 2019
Hachette Book Publishers

The Rip by Mark Brandi

A young woman living on the street has to keep her wits about her. Or her friends. But when the drugs kick in that can be hard.

Anton has been looking out for her. She was safe with him. But then Steve came along.
He had something over Anton. Must have. But he had a flat they could crash in. And gear in his pocket. And she can’t stop thinking about it. A good hit makes everything all right.
But the flat smells weird.

There’s a lock on Steve’s bedroom door. And the guy is intense. The problem is, sometimes you just don’t know you are in too deep, until you are drowning.

The Rip by Mark Brandi is an urban crime novel set in Melbourne.

The plot itself is not overly complex — two friends live homeless on the streets of Melbourne, with the young girl’s dog, Sunny. They’ve both come from troublesome childhoods and adolescent years, but they have learnt how to live as comfortably as they can. They feel safe where they are. Until they meet Steve.

“It’s funny how quick it happens and without you really noticing. Anton said once that it’s like walking out into the sea, and you think everything’s fine and the water’s warm, but when you turn back you’re suddenly miles from shore. I’ve never been much of a swimmer, but I get what he means. Like, being caught in a current or something. A rip.”

This book is raw and emotional, rich and powerful. These characters are troubled and flawed, but they draw the reader in. Mark Brandi is such a wonderful writer. He captures dialogue so well, and even with very little plot, he is able to engage an audience. The Rip is predominantly character-driven, and it’s fantastic.

Truthfully, this was going to be one of my favourite reads of the last 12 months. This was going to be a book that I would shove in people’s faces and demand that they read. This was, by far, one of the best examples of writing I’d come across.

…until I got to the end of the book.

The ending makes no sense to me. It’s almost like Mark wrote a few chapters and then cut them out of the manuscript. There’s a mystery in the book surrounding Steve and his bedroom, and the mysterious barrels. That mystery is never explained. All of a sudden, the plot jumps forward in time with no explanation of what happened in between. Sure, there’s a quick mention of a ‘court case’ but that’s it. What was in the barrels? We can guess, but what really happened?

The first thing I did was look at reviews online, and I found comfort in knowing many many other readers felt the same anger and frustration at the ending as I did. All the brilliant writing and masterful work Mark Brandi put into this book felt completely wasted at the end.

“I take Sunny by the rope and walk quickly up the street. He follows me for a bit, but gives up once I get round the corner. Look, I’m not ungrateful or anything — the food was nice, the apple pie especially — but it seems like everything comes with strings attached. With some people, anyway. Like, they can’t just do you a favour without expecting something in return, you know?”

The Rip is full of beautiful writing, with characters who are fragile, yet incredibly strong. The book is engrossing and riveting and I loved it all, until the end. Many readers will love this. But many readers will not love the ending.

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

The Rip
Mark Brandi
March 2019
Hachette Book Publishers

The French Photographer by Natasha Lester

Inspired by the incredible true story of Lee Miller, Vogue model turned one of the first female war photojournalists, the new novel by the bestselling author of The Paris Seamstress.

Manhattan, Paris, 1942: When Jessica May’s successful modelling career is abruptly cut short, she is assigned to the war in Europe as a photojournalist for Vogue. But when she arrives the army men make her life as difficult as possible. Three friendships change that: journalist Martha Gellhorn encourages Jess to bend the rules, paratrooper Dan Hallworth takes her to places to shoot pictures and write stories that matter, and a little girl, Victorine, who has grown up in a field hospital, shows her love. But success comes at a price.

France, 2005: Australian curator D’Arcy Hallworth arrives at a beautiful chateau to manage a famous collection of photographs. What begins as just another job becomes far more disquieting as D’Arcy uncovers the true identity of the mysterious photographer – and realises that she is connected to D’Arcy’s own mother, Victorine.

The French Photographer is another epic novel from Australian author Natasha Lester. Crossing a war-torn Europe from Italy to France, The French Photographer is a story of courage, family and forgiveness.

Natasha Lester is one of my favourite Australian writers. I’ve previously read and reviewed two of her other novels, The French Seamstress and Her Mother’s Secret. All of her novels are about brave women during key historical moments — women who defy the odds and prejudices against them, and work hard to earn their success. They’re inspiring for the readers and they’re also incredibly relatable, down to earth, determined women.

“Jess’s story about Victorine and the accompanying pictures were syndicated worldwide. I can’t thank you enough, Bel had written. You’ve given Vogue credibility during this period of war that it wouldn’t otherwise have. Jess’s name was one people now knew for something other than how she looked in a dress.”

Jess has always wanted to do more than just model. She’s smart, passionate, driven, and an incredibly talented photographer. When her modelling work is put on hold because of a devious boyfriend and an old photoshoot, she sets her sights on something a little different. War is raging and Vogue need a journalist on the ground to report for their magazine.

She faces challenges because she’s injected herself into a career dominated by men. They won’t allow women close to the war, and Jess is often at the mercy of superior officers who don’t feel comfortable with Jess being so close to the war. They feel threatened by her, and perhaps at times, intimidated. They make up rumours about her, deliberately making her life difficult.

“Dan laughed and suddenly it felt normal again: Jess and Dan sharing a drink and a joke the way they’d always done. Thank God! She knew her smile was too bright for a day of mourning but she was so relieved to have restored her friendship with Dan that she couldn’t wipe it away.”

Jess’ personality is a real asset to the story. She’s feisty and quick, but also witty and very funny. She doesn’t let anyone talk down to her and she certainly doesn’t let them get away with treating her like their property.

It’s evident that Natasha did a lot of research ahead of writing this book. Jess is inspired by real-life war photographer Lee Miller, who led an extraordinary life. And there is so much intimate knowledge about photography and the war, and I could really picture every scene from the book as if it were playing out in front of me like a movie.

“At her new home on French soil, she quickly became adept at diving into the slit trench behind her tent whenever the Germans flew over at night strafing, at pretending the enormous red welts of mosquito bites didn’t itch like the devil, at never being alone, not even on the toilet — the latrine had a row of six seats and more often than not at least one or two of the other places was occupied by nurses clutching their precious rations of Scott paper.”

Like Natasha’s other novels, The French Photographer follows a dual narrative. The main timeline is Jess in 1942 as she works hard to build her career as a recognised war photographer. The other timeline is D’Arcy in 2005. She’s an Australian curator who starts working with a mysterious photographer who is hiding many secrets. This mysterious photographer storyline was a little predictable, but still delightful.

I’d recommend Natasha’s novels to fans of historical fiction, romance, epic war tales, and family sagas. Her books are as gorgeous on the inside as they are on the cover.

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

The French Photographer
Natasha Lester
April 2019
Hachette Books Australia

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