JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

The Freedom of Birds by Stephanie Parkyn

Remi Victoire is the golden child among all the theatre orphans; he dreams of a life on a Paris stage. But when this future is stolen from him, Remi and his faithful friend Pascal turn their backs on Paris forever.

With Saskia, a runaway orphan girl, Remi and Pascal form a performing troupe, travelling through the fairytale lands that are home to the Brothers Grimm, before finding a safe haven in Venice.

As Napoleon’s vast Empire crumbles, the French storytellers discover that Paris itself is now at risk of invasion and they fear for the loved ones they have left behind.

From picturesque villages to Italian theatres and on to the battlefields outside of Paris, this is a beautifully told story about the bonds of love and friendship, the importance of stories, and finding a place to belong.

Set in Europe in the early 1800s, Stephanie Parkyn’s The Freedom of Birds is historical fiction centring around a trio of orphan children who band together to form a performing troupe. From France to Italy, and the battlefields in between, Saskia, Remi and Pascal must learn to survive on their own.

The Freedom of Birds brings disadvantaged and marginalised characters to the forefront. There’s an element of fairytales and folklore running as an undercurrent to the novel, which makes it feel oddly comforting and reassuring at a time like this.

I’ve since realised there is some connection between this book and Stephanie’s previous two works — luckily, you don’t need to read her first two books to follow this one, although I’m sure it’d help provide additional context to the historical setting.

“Did they wonder, the townsfolk, how Father had come to possess her? Had they questioned her sudden arrival to that desolate church? No doubt he had spun a convincing story. Perhaps he told them he had rescued her from wickedness and vice and delivered her into the lap of God.”

Strengths lie in the research and political turmoil captured in the book. Whilst a lot of the events happening in that time period — particularly those related to war — went straight over my head and waned my interest, I appreciate how much work has gone into writing this book and I acknowledge there’ll be a loyal readership who will find themselves in love with the time period and the setting of the book.

From the battlefields to the tension, to the hatred for their unjust treatment, The Freedom of Birds transports you to another time and allows you to feel completely enveloped in the early 1800s. Each of the core characters are unique in their journey and their role within the story — each are fighting battles both in their minds and their environments. Their journeys in the book reflect their pursuit for the truth, and for the family they’ve never known.

“The smell of hay, manure, piss — I woke with it filling my nose and mouth, face down and chewing on the stable scrapings. I rolled over slowly, not wanting to move my head, feeling the hammers strike anvils behind my eyes. I prised an eyelid open.”

There were a couple of things that I didn’t love about the book, and the main one was the perspective shift. We move between Saskia, Remi and Pascal, but two of these voices are in third person and one is in first person. I found this incredibly jolting and sometimes I got confused about which perspective we were now in. I wonder why the author wrote it like this, instead of writing all three of them in third person and perhaps including a header at the beginning of each chapter with their name, so we immediately knew who we were following.

And secondly, I struggled with the pacing of the novel. It’s very slow. Too slow. Events didn’t seem to hold the magnitude they needed for historical fiction. So, whilst plotting was present and things did happen, they never seemed to be building towards enough of a climax to keep a reader hooked.

“Hunger gripped Pascal’s stomach like a dog that would not relinquish a stick. It gnawed at him. He felt each bite like a sudden cramp. Hunger hurt. He was tired of the ache.”

Recommended for historical fiction readers. Readership skews female, 35+

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

The Freedom of Birds
Stephanie Parkyn
December 2021
Allen & Unwin Book Publishers

A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske

Young baronet Robin Blyth thought he was taking up a minor governmental post. However, he’s actually been appointed parliamentary liaison to a secret magical society. If it weren’t for this administrative error, he’d never have discovered the incredible magic underlying his world.

Cursed by mysterious attackers and plagued by visions, Robin becomes determined to drag answers from his missing predecessor – but he’ll need the help of Edwin Courcey, his hostile magical-society counterpart. Unwillingly thrown together, Robin and Edwin will discover a plot that threatens every magician in the British Isles.

Freya Marske’s debut novel A Marvellous Light is both fantasy and queer romance, set in early 1900s Edwardian England. The confident — but slightly clueless — Robin Blyth finds himself thrust into the hidden world of magic and the victim of a curse he can’t control.

Readers will enjoy the premise of the novel, the integration of magical realism throughout the story, and the leading characters Robin and Edwin. Both these men are grappling with the situation before them — Robin, determined but ultimately in over his head, and Edwin, unfortunately plagued with meagre magic and constantly tormented by his siblings.

Notably, this is the first book in a planned series, and Freya does leave much to be answered. There is enough world-building in this as the first book, but still much to be explored in sequels.

“Robin’s second impression was that Lord Hawthorn had also been visited by disruptive thieves during the night, because the room into which they were led was a morass of belongings strewn over every surface.”

Family dynamics is a strong element in this story — how Robin and Edwin both interact with family amidst society. I can’t quite explain it, but this book feels suited to seasoned readers — those who know exactly what they’re looking for in a novel. Those who love genre fiction and romance, and unsuspecting characters thrust into an alternate world that they’re ill-prepared for. Personally, I found the opening of the novel quite slow and impenetrable, but admittedly it got better as it went on.

When Robin is attacked by thugs and finds himself cursed, he must work together with Edwin to end the curse and find the object these thugs are so desperate to uncover. Stylistically, Freya writes in third person but moves back and forth between Robin and Edwin’s POV. Freya’s writing is sharp and succinct — her description allows for emotional and depth, without being fluffy or over-the-top.

“Edwin settled himself back against the leather of the seat. It was real. The rattle of the window in its frame was real. Robert Blyth was not exactly imaginary — no, he was too solid, too broad-shouldered, his voice too loud and too warm: the voice of someone who’d never had cause to make himself smaller.”

Admittedly, I felt that the blend of magical realism and romance was not seamlessly executed. Moments of romantic tension seemed so far removed from the plot lines that the core mystery of the novel seemed forgotten. There’s a sequence of sex scenes in the middle of the novel that didn’t feel easily embedded — the rest of the novel centres entirely around the mystery element that I felt quite surprised to find sex scenes in the novel at all. Whilst they were sensual, and I’m sure they’ll be appreciated by some readers, I’m not sure they fit easily into this book where they are.

“Excitement crawled over Robin’s scalp. He didn’t think Courcey actually meant him any harm; the man was far too prickly. If he’d been trying for charm Robin might have been worried.”

Recommended for readers of fantasy romance, and perhaps magical realism. I wouldn’t recommend this book to reluctant readers. Readership skews female, 25+

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

A Marvellous Light
Freya Marske
November 2021
Pan Macmillan Publishers

Scary Monsters by Michelle De Kretser

When my family emigrated it felt as if we’d been stood on our heads.

Lili’s family migrated to Australia from Asia when she was a teenager. Now, in the 1980s, she’s teaching in the south of France. She makes friends, observes the treatment handed out to North African immigrants and is creeped out by her downstairs neighbour. All the while, Lili is striving to be A Bold, Intelligent Woman like Simone de Beauvoir.

Lyle works for a sinister government department in near-future Australia. An Asian migrant, he fears repatriation and embraces ‘Australian values’. He’s also preoccupied by his ambitious wife, his wayward children and his strong-minded elderly mother. Islam has been banned in the country, the air is smoky from a Permanent Fire Zone, and one pandemic has already run its course.

Three scary monsters – racism, misogyny and ageism – roam through this novel. Its reversible format enacts the disorientation that migrants experience when changing countries changes the story of their lives. Which comes first, the future or the past?

Australian writer Michelle De Kretser returns with her seventh novel Scary Monsters, a tale of two stories – two characters – and an undercurrent of themes including racism, misogyny and ageism.

Scary Monsters is creative in its execution. With two 150-page novellas inside, you can start from either end. Both covers of the book are beautiful, and each side of the book offers something completely original. Whilst you may notice a couple of threads between the stories, they do function alone.

“Returning from Paris, as the train pulled into Montpellier, I thought back to the trip going the other way. Then the train had deposited me in a city of silvery light, mist and frozen white skies – it was like being delivered into a pearl. Montpellier was a sapphire, a cold, glitzy blue.”

Strengths lie in Michelle’s writing and observations – her ability to convey meaning with the fewest of words, and how evocatively she conveys imagery and setting. She really is quite architectural as a writer. And I loved that each story was only 150 words, with each one of them quite neat and contained.

“When it grew dark and the shutters were closed, lamps turned the rooms tender and mysterious. They were set in an enfilade, so people walked through them in a straight line – it made casual movement look ceremonial.”

Admittedly, I’m not the desired audience for this novel. I wanted to love it – I went into it wanting to devour it. But truthfully, I struggled a lot and I had to push myself to finish the book. Whilst Michelle’s writing is beautiful and she’s so skilled at crafting exquisite sentences, her characters felt so dry and unlikable to me – so bland – and the dialogue felt void of emotion. The pacing also felt really stagnant, with little momentum.

Browsing reviews of this title and it’s clear that Michelle has found a loyal following with this title, so I’m sure this is just my own personal experience. I’ll take this as one of those times where I’m just not the right fit for the book. I’m told this is quite a divergence from her other works, so perhaps I started with the wrong novel and should go back to an earlier release.

“Ivy was holding a white handkerchief embroidered with white flowers. As Bram talker to her, she touched it to the corner of her mouth. It hit me as nothing else had done: I was going to lose Ivy.”

Stark and distinct in its execution, Scary Monsters is recommended for devout literary readers. This is not the kind of book to gift a reluctant reader, or someone drawn to plot-driven stories. Readership skews female, 30+

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

Scary Monsters
Michelle De Kretser
October 2021
Allen & Unwin Book Publishers

Catch Us The Foxes by Nicola West

Some secrets you try to hide. Others you don’t dare let out …

Ambitious young journalist Marlowe ‘Lo’ Robertson would do anything to escape the suffocating confines of her small home town. While begrudgingly covering the annual show for the local newspaper, Lo is horrified to discover the mutilated corpse of her best friend – the town’s reigning showgirl, Lily Williams.

Seven strange symbols have been ruthlessly carved into Lily’s back. But when Lo reports her grisly find to the town’s police chief, he makes her promise not to tell anyone about the symbols. Lo obliges, though it’s not like she has much of a choice – after all, he is also her father.

When Lily’s murder makes headlines around the country and the town is invaded by the media, Lo seizes the opportunity to track down the killer and make a name for herself by breaking the biggest story of her life.

What Lo uncovers is that her sleepy home town has been harbouring a deadly secret, one so shocking that it will captivate the entire nation. Lo’s story will change the course of her life forever, but in a way she could never have dreamed of.

Catch Us the Foxes is Nicola West’s debut, set in a small coastal town and centring around the murder of a young journalist. When Marlowe discovers best friend Lily’s body, she is expected to hide secrets about the death and so takes it upon herself to follow clues and solve the murder.

Nicola builds tension with each chapter, and she has crafted a strong cast of characters. The pacing is quick and chapters are short, so readers won’t have any problem powering through.

“It wasn’t like I didn’t have a motive. Anyone who knew us would know we’d been competing since childhood. For the most part, things had been pretty equal, particularly at school, but once we entered the real world Lily kept pulling ahead. After a mere month of us both interning, she’d been granted a paid role at the local paper.”

Strengths lie in Nicola’s ability to capture that small-town atmosphere, where everyone knows everyone and gossip spreads fast. People are unforgiving and secrets are buried deep.

Another strength is protagonist Marlowe, who does come across as a sympathetic, reasonable soul. She’s also determined and tenacious – strong and level-headed. You feel confident in her instincts and the direction her story takes in the novel. She knows who to trust and who to be wary of.

“I hauled myself upright and dragged my fingers through my hair. I was still groggy, but I knew I had things to do. I spotted the golden gift bag that had been sitting – untouched – on my dresser since Christmas Eve. It was elegant and understated, just like Lily.”

I think this book will serve a younger audience best, rather than seasoned adult readers of crime and thriller. The writing at times is a bit caricature, and the interactions between characters not entirely realistic. Dialogue is forced at times, and conversations a bit over-the-top. Whilst the premise is interesting and the protagonist engaging, at times the book feels over-written.

Catch Us the Foxes covers a lot of ground in its 370-ish pages – mental illness, murder, satanic cults, friendships, family, relationships, homophobia, to name just a few. Some might feel it spreads itself a bit too thin in its story, and perhaps Nicola could’ve allowed for more exploration of certain issues if she wasn’t trying to cover so much throughout the story.

“Lily’s mum fell to her knees, sobbing violently. She began pounding at her head with her fists and screaming Lily’s name – like she was punishing herself for her daughter’s death. Despite my father and Michael being twice her size, they struggled to subdue her.”

Recommended for younger readers, and those interested in crime and mystery. The characters and relationships read younger. Readership is skewed female, 15+

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

Catch Us The Foxes
Nicola West
July 2021
Simon & Schuster

Loving Lizzie March by Susannah Hardy

Life is not going to plan for failed fashion designer Lizzie March, and then she finds herself pregnant to super-hot bad boy Jake Wheeler.

Convinced that he’s The One, now all she has to do is make him realise that she is The One for him!

But is it possible she’s been looking for love in all the wrong places? Maybe everything she has ever wanted is right under her very own stilettos.

Susannah Hardy’s debut novel Loving Lizzie March is a romantic comedy about life, love and friendship in your 30s. Lizzie’s relationship history is a bit of a trainwreck and her fashion career is on hold. Actually, it seems like her friendship with best friend Clem is the only stable element of her life, but even that’s starting to blow up. Lizzie’s life isn’t heading where she thought it would, and she needs to learn to take control.

Most of the humour in the novel is situational comedy, rather than humour in dialogue. We meet Lizzie as she’s stalking her colleague and former one-night-stand, climbing on top of his bin trying to find out he’s home or not. That opening alone sets the tone for the rest of the novel, and gives us a clear picture of who Lizzie really is.

I would’ve loved a bit more humour in her workplace, if there was capacity. She sells wine over the phone, which is kind of quirky. Her job at the call centre is used as a setting rather than a plot device, so we don’t really get much of a sense of her actual work at the call centre and that could’ve been an opportunity for even more humour in the novel. But I did like how Susannah set up the tension between Lizzie and Jake at work, as well as the other colleagues who weave in and out of the story.

“Most conversations with my mother centre around the same subject: Mr Right. And how and when I’m going to meet him. As far as she’s concerned, being thirty and single is a tragedy. She simply cannot understand why I haven’t been snapped up.”

Pacing is a strength in this novel, and I think that’s an important factor in women’s fiction — especially romantic comedies. We need to move through the story at heightened speed, and it needs to feel like a lot is happening. The protagonist’s life needs to feel chaotic in order to trigger self-reflection, and eventually, self-improvement. Being written in first person allows Lizzie to reflect on her life choices and acknowledge her mistakes. It also allows for an authentic voice to come through, and it aligns with the genre really well.

The nappy bag idea is cute, and the relationship between Lizzie and Clem is one of the strongest components of the plot. The majority of people who read this novel will be women and they’ll be able to relate to Lizzie and Clem’s friendship. It’s long-lasting and it’s secure, but there are also expectations that need to be met. Lizzie tends to railroad conversations and doesn’t really think about what Clem is going through, and Susannah has set up quite a complex dynamic between the two women that reflects everyday life. Their personalities certainly allow for interesting interactions — Clem is the sensible, emotionally secure, level-headed lawyer and Lizzie is…Lizzie.

“I’m thrilled with my idea. I’ve never had any sort of plan before so I’m already one step ahead. Now, all I have to do is be mysterious and aloof — occasionally resist the advances of a devastatingly handsome man to whom I’m pregnant, as well as incredibly attracted and desperate to marry. Piece of cake.”

There is a level of absurdity to the storyline, and things do feel like they wrap up a little too neatly. Whilst Lizzie does grow on the reader over time, she is quite unlikable in the beginning — and dare I say, certifiably bonkers. The segue into the drugs arrest was a bit bizarre, and shoe-horning the storyline about Cherie into the novel felt a bit unnatural. Sometimes the dialogue felt a bit inauthentic, like I couldn’t see the conversation playing out in real life.

But the intended audience for this kind of book won’t care about any of that. They’ll be glad to delve into an easy, light read. Something you could imagine reading on a plane, if we can ever go anywhere again. On a beach somewhere, far away. Loving Lizzie March will take your mind off all that’s going on in the world right now.

“After inheriting my nana’s sewing machine, I chose textiles as my elective and I loved it. My teacher, Miss Wilton, was fantastic. She was young, hip and inspiring, and encouraged me to really push myself and my creativity in all sorts of wacky directions.”

Heartwarming and heartfelt, Loving Lizzie March is for readers of women’s fiction and chick lit. Readership skews female, 25+

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

Loving Lizzie March
Susannah Hardy
July 2021
Pan Macmillan Publishers