JESS JUST READS

A BOOK REVIEW BLOG

Everything Feels Like the End of the World by Else Fitzgerald

Each story is anchored, at its heart, in what it means to be human: grief, loss, pain and love. A young woman is faced with a difficult choice about her pregnancy in a community ravaged by doubt. An engineer working on a solar shield protecting the Earth shares memories of their lover with an AI companion. Two archivists must decide what is worth saving when the world is flooded by rising sea levels. In a heavily policed state that preferences the human and punishes the different, a mother gives herself up to save her transgenic child.

These transformative stories are both epic and granular, and forever astonishing in their imaginative detail, sense of revelation and emotional connection. They herald the arrival of a stunning new voice.

Else Fitzgerald’s short story collection Everything Feels Like the End of the World is a series of compact speculative fiction tales exploring possible futures in Australia – some settings don’t seem too far removed from our present life, but others are vastly different and set thousands of years into an unrecognisable future.

God, I really appreciated the brevity of some of these stories – at just 250 pages, this book has thirty-seven stories and they’re all just as rich and engrossing as each other. Jumping through different stories at quite a fast pace is actually a really refreshing read, so many short story collections have substantial (and therefore few in number) stories, and as a result, the pacing can lull a little in the middle. I loved the structure of this book and the order of the stories, which worked together cohesively across the course of the book.

“Out over the edge of the rooftop the reddish sun is sinking, its brightness so reduced from the smoke that you can stare right at it without hurting your eyes. At the far end of the roof garden shared by all the residents of the building, white sheets on the clotheslines flap in the smoky breeze – surrender of defiance, you’re not sure.”

Else’s specificity, particularly her observations of people and places – of interactions, feelings, and memories – are gems in the story, and one of the strengths of the collection. Her stories show you don’t need to use a lot of words to convey something beautiful or poignant. There is a strong personal undertone to the book, like we’re getting a strong sense of Else not just as a writer but as a person.

Each story explores elements of humanity and what it means to be alive, even when the world is ending – ie. even during times of disaster, we can still feel love and connection, nurture, all the while experiencing heightened levels of grief, heartache, and loss.

I also freakin’ love the cover of this book – the colours and the tone, as well as the title, make for a really beautiful addition to the bookshelf.

“His voice is tender but careful. Before the phone call to tell him what had happened, and to ask if we could come, we hadn’t spoken in a long while. My body trembles, the horror of the past few weeks seeping over the walls I’ve built inside me.”

With each story moving forward in time, we experience the haunting progression of climate degradation and the ramifications of a changing world, sometimes through the smallest of lenses. It’s a clever stylistic technique to keep the reader feeling both unprepared and alarmed as we progress through the future to alternate worlds not overly different to our own.

“The walk down to the town centre only takes ten minutes. It’s midwinter and tourism still hasn’t recovered from the pandemic years, so the place is empty. The pub is closed, but looking over the fence from the street they glimpse a view of the water through the vast beer garden.”

Else’s short story collection is an accessible read for reluctant readers, and perfect for those with only short spans of time to read. With vivid characters and engaging settings, readers will love this book. Readership skews 20+

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

Everything Feels Like the End of the World
Else Fitzgerald
August 2022
Allen & Unwin Book Publishers

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

Truly Darkly Deeply by Victoria Selman

Twelve-year-old Sophie and her mother, Amelia-Rose, move to London from Massachusetts where they meet the charismatic Matty Melgren, who quickly becomes an intrinsic part of their lives. But as the relationship between the two adults fractures, a serial killer begins targeting young women with a striking resemblance to Amelia-Rose.

When Matty is eventually sent down for multiple murder, questions remain as to his guilt — questions which ultimately destroy both women. Nearly twenty years later, Sophie receives a letter from Battlemouth Prison informing her Matty is dying and wants to meet. It looks like Sophie might finally get the answers she craves. But will the truth set her free — or bury her deeper?

Victoria Selman’s Truly Darkly Deeply is a psychological thriller about a man convicted of multiple murders, and how the revelation ripples through his family – even twenty years later, as he reaches out to the family on his death bed.

The book regularly switches perspectives between present-day Sophie and a 12-year-old Sophie who is retelling the story of how Matty entered and then later left their lives. For the most part, she refuses to believe a negative word against Matty – he’s the father she never had. But even a 12-year-old has to acknowledge at some point that something doesn’t quite add up with Matty. He’s mysterious, vacant, and disappears for long stretches of time. He seems to always be available, but at the same time seems to be absent during key moments. Selman navigates Sophie’s naivety and innocence rather well in these flashback scenes.

“I knew all about Diana’s dress. I’d been keeping a wedding scrapbook of magazine cut-outs, every detail about the big day stuck in, from how many bridesmaids the soon-to-be princess was having, to the number of beads on her ivory satin shoes. I don’t remember why Matty didn’t watch the ceremony with us.”

Truly Darkly Deeply presents an interesting perspective, focusing on the family members left behind in the wake of a shocking revelation such as murder. Would you recognise if someone in your family was a serial killer? The premise is quite the hook to bring readers in and it actually reminded me a bit of Dirty John.

The pacing and the tension build are two of the strengths in the novel – Sophie’s present-day visit to see Matty does well to anchor the story, and across the course of the book you find yourself really desperate to get to that moment and find out what Matty has to say.

Additionally, I liked that there are a small number of the characters in the book, keeping the atmosphere quite claustrophobic and contained. It means there’s plenty of time in the book dedicated to understanding the dynamic between Sophie and her mother, and then Sophie and Matty.

“I wasn’t keen on spending any more time with the girl than was strictly necessary, but I’d been taught never to turn down an apology. So I thanked her and accepted her invitation graciously.”

There were a few elements of the novel that I felt could’ve been tightened – it wasn’t always clear when we were in the past or the present, so it would’ve been helpful and would’ve saved a lot of confusion if each chapter perhaps had the year dated underneath it, or even said PAST or PRESENT.

A lot of the novel is tied to this idea that Matty might not have actually been the killer, but it seems pretty clear from the beginning of the novel and so the concept of ‘is he guilty’ doesn’t really hold the value it’s intended to. And finally, Sophie’s character progression hits a bit of a snag for me towards the end. For most of the novel, she is completely against the idea that Matty could be a bad person – she is so happy he’s in her life that it’s understandably clouding her judgement. However, when she does change her mind on this, it’s too quick a decision and the thought process behind it doesn’t seem present. Suddenly, she’s changed her mind and she’s trying to convince her mother he’s a bad guy. It’s rather jarring for the reader.

“By the time we listened to his answerphone message, something in my mother had disappeared too. The despair that had plagued those first weeks of his absence had gradually eased and in its place came a sort of acceptance.”

Despite its flaws, this is a rather gripping novel and I did find myself reading it in two sittings. The premise is intriguing and compelling and regardless of its holes, readers will enjoy the journey. Recommended for readers of psychological thrillers – great for book club reads, as I think the twist at the end of the book would spark much debate. Readership skews 25+

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

Truly Darkly Deeply
Victoria Selman
July 2022
Hachette Book Publishers

Lying Beside You by Michael Robotham

Twenty years ago, Cyrus Haven’s family was murdered. Only he and his brother survived. Cyrus because he hid. Elias because he was the killer.

Now Elias is being released from a secure psychiatric hospital and Cyrus, a forensic psychologist, must decide if he can forgive the man who destroyed his childhood.

As he prepares for the homecoming, Cyrus is called to a crime scene in Nottingham. A man is dead and his daughter, Maya, is missing. Then a second woman is abducted . . . The only witness is Evie Cormac, a troubled teenager with an incredible gift: she can tell when you are lying.

Both missing women have dark secrets that Cyrus must unravel to find them – and he and Evie know better than anybody how the past can come back to haunt you . . .

The next psychological thriller from Michael Robotham, Lying Beside You centres around two missing woman, an attack on a third woman years earlier, and the secret that binds all three victims together.

Regular readers of Michael Robotham will recognise forensic psychologist Cyrus Haven from two of his earlier works – in this latest iteration, Cyrus’ brother is being released from psychiatric hospital and the troubled young adult living with him is the only witness to the abduction of a drunk woman outside of a bar. Over the course of the novel, the case of two missing women will intersect with a seemingly ‘solved’ crime from years earlier.

“I hate arguing with Cyrus. I hate that he’s older than me and that he thinks he knows everything. I hate how he picks me up on my grammar and my vocabulary, like when I say literally when I mean figuratively (whatever the fuck that means). I hate how he laughs at me, but not in a cruel way.”

Whilst this is the third appearance of Cyrus Haven, readers need not have read the first two books to follow this plot. Written in first person and moving between Cyrus and Evie’s perspectives, Robotham’s writing is stripped and almost methodical – no unnecessary prose or dialogue, only containing the elements needed to keep the reader turning the page.

Lying Beside You explores the complex relationship between Cyrus and his brother Elias – Cyrus’ line of work means that he is able to separate Elias from what he did all those years earlier, but that doesn’t mean he can necessarily forgive him, or feel uneasy leaving him alone.

Crime and thriller readers will be pleased with this offering – the pacing quickens, there are multiple mysteries to maintain a reader’s attention, and Robotham weaves them together seamlessly with an explosive conclusion.

“As I walk to my car in the hospital parking area, the air seems saturated with oxygen, making the colours brighter and my senses sharper. I lean back in the driver’s seat of my Fiat and feel my heart beating in my chest. Elias is being allowed out on day release. He expects to come home. The next step will be overnight stays.”

Admittedly, it did feel like there were two separate elements to this plot that didn’t necessarily gel with each other – the central mystery surrounding the two women, and the release of Cyrus’ brother.

The latter storyline felt a bit underdeveloped and quite lost within the overarching story. Elias is on the periphery of the story, not making enough of an impact to give the reader a lasting impression. I kept waiting for something to happen, but nothing in the plot really eventuated and so I’m wondering if this is merely setting something in motion for the next book that features Cyrus Haven?

“Half an hour later, I hear the door open and keys hitting the side table. Boots are kicked off. Mail is checked. An envelope is torn open. Cyrus appears in the kitchen. He looks at the bench, which is covered in flour, caster sugar and cocoa powder.”

Pacey, engaging and original, Lying Beside You is recommended for readers of crime, thriller and mystery. A great present for Father’s Day, readership skews 25+

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

Lying Beside You
Michael Robotham
July 2022
Hachette Book Publishers Australia

The House of Fortune by Jessie Burton

Amsterdam in the year 1705. Thea Brandt is turning eighteen, and is ready to welcome adulthood with open arms. At the theatre, Walter, the love of her life, awaits her, but at home in the house on the Herengracht, winter has set in – her father Otto and Aunt Nella argue endlessly, and the Brandt family are selling their furniture in order to eat. On Thea’s birthday, also the day that her mother Marin died, the secrets from the past begin to overwhelm the present.

Nella is desperate to save the family and maintain appearances, to find Thea a husband who will guarantee her future, and when they receive an invitation to Amsterdam’s most exclusive ball, she is overjoyed – perhaps this will set their fortunes straight. And indeed, the ball does set things spinning: new figures enter their life, promising new futures. But their fates are still unclear, and when Nella feels a strange prickling sensation on the back of her neck, she wonders if the miniaturist has returned for her . . .

Set in 18th century Amsterdam, Jessie Burton’s The House of Fortune is the companion novel to her internationally best-selling novel ‘The Miniaturist’. Taking place 18 years after the end of The Miniaturist, Nella has helped raise Otto and Marin’s daughter Thea without any reappearances of the miniaturist. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t far away.

Nella’s family are struggling financially — Otto has lost his job and Nella and Thea are keeping up appearances despite their savings drying up. Thea, unbeknownst to anyone else, is conducting an affair with a local painter who she hopes to marry — she rejects Nella’s suggestion of marrying into wealth to save the family from financial distress.

“Thea closes the front door and leans against it in the cold air, placing the golden dress on the step in order to rip apart the paper. When she sees what is lying inside, she lets out a gasp of delight. It seems impossible, but it’s true. Here is Walter, miniaturised to absolute perfection.”

Written in third person and moving between Nella and Thea’s perspectives, we once again experience that reserved, distant voice that Jessie Burton is known for. Despite being set one generation later, the events from the first book still loiter in this tale — the circumstances surrounding Thea’s birth, the identity of her mother and what she was like as a person, the death of Nella’s first husband, and of course, the miniaturist who plagued her marriage. When Thea begins receiving small miniatures delivered to the house, it propels her in a direction no one could foresee, quickening the pacing towards a tense finale.

Whilst I didn’t love this as much as the first book (I don’t feel that the magic and intrigue is as prevalent as this one),Thea takes the reins throughout the story and is quite the fascinating protagonist. The period setting of the book is, as always, elegant and enticing to read, and it is enjoyable to step back into these lives eight years later.

“There is a long silence. The four of them contemplate a future that has suddenly become yet more uncertain. It’s as if the ropes that were tethering the have been severed, and are snaking away, and Thea and her family are drifting into unknown waters with no sense of where they might go.”

Through Thea’s role and presence in society, we come to understand the inherent prejudice of a child born from an upper class, white mother and an African servant. Other people’s feelings towards Thea’s lineage can be felt bubbling under the surface, threatening to rise with each passing chapter. And because Thea feels she is left in the dark about her mother, and the circumstances leading up to her death, she rebels against the family’s expectations of her.

I know this is marketed as a companion novel and not a sequel, but I feel that prior knowledge of The Miniaturist is advised for this one – truthfully, I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone who hasn’t read the first book. There’s something so magical about the original story, which makes it all the more enticing to step back into this world for The House of Fortune. If you have read The Miniaturist, but it’s been some time and you can’t really remember what happened, I was the same and just did a quick Google search to refresh my memory.

“Jacob is impressed by the house, Nella can tell. Its flesh might be scanter these days, but the bones are strong. He cranes his head back to admire the trompe l’oeil on the ceiling. He stares at the grisailles on the wall with the same intensity he had focused upon Thea in Clara Sarragon’s antechamber.”

Recommended for fans of The Miniaturist, as well as sweeping, magical sagas set in 18th century Europe. There’s a beauty to this setting and these characters, brought to life with Jessie’s signature prose and dialogue. Readership skews female, 25+

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

The House of Fortune
Jessie Burton
July 2022
Pan Macmillan Publishers