Paris, 1938. The last sigh of summer before the war.

As Australian journalist Charlotte ‘Charlie’ James alights at the Gare du Nord, ready to start her role as correspondent for The Times, Paris is in turmoil as talk of war becomes increasingly strident.

Charlie is chasing her first big scoop, needing to prove to her boss that she can do this job as well as, if not better than, her male counterparts. And the best way to forge the necessary contacts quickly is to make the well-connected expats, Lord and Lady Ashworth, her business. Lady Eleanor knows everyone who counts and at her annual sumptuously extravagant party, Charlie will meet them all.

On the summer solstice eve, the party is in full swing with the cream of Parisian society entranced by burlesque dancers, tightrope walkers, a jazz band and fireworks lighting the night skies. But as Charlie is drawn into the magical world of parties, couture houses and bohemian wine bars, secrets start to unravel, including her own. Putting a foot wrong could spell death …

In this magnificent new beginning to the joyful Charlie James series, Manning beguiles with glamour and mystery set in pre-war Paris.

The first in a new historical fiction series, Kirsty Manning’s The Paris Mystery introduces us to Australian journalist – and sleuth – Charlotte, now living in Paris and determined to escape her past and carve a new life for herself in France.

With war fast approaching, the newly divorced Charlie is excited to start her new job as correspondent for The Times. She is determined to surpass her male counterparts and prove herself but covering a captivating scoop for the outlet. When she attends a party on the eve of summer solstice and a guest ends up murdered, it’s Charlie’s chance to be on the front foot of the story and uncover the truth of what really happened that night.

“At his shoulder Madame Marchand sipped her champagne, her face neutral. Charlie studied her: impeccable skin enhanced with a hint of makeup, coiffed hair, tailored couture. In her late fifties, she looked her age, and Charlie admired that – she hated hollow compliments, and none were more irritating than the suggestion that a woman who looked less than her age was to be feted.”

Set against the backdrop of the glamorous pre-war Parisian lifestyle, Manning has brought France to life with vivid description and eccentric, compelling characters. With a mystery at its core, Manning maintains a compelling narrative that will have readers eagerly turning the pages.

Charlie is a headstrong, efficient protagonist drawn from a number of different inspirations. Manning has crafted an inspiring journalist, driven by more than just a love of the job – she refuses to be underestimated just because she’s a woman. She’s determined and fierce, goal-oriented and hungry to prove others wrong. I think a lot of (female) readers will relate to her, and this determinism is an element that I love when female protagonists take centre stage in historical fiction.

“Charlie remembered that Lady Ashworth had said Maxime Marchand was a fellow patron of the Louvre. She followed Lord Ashworth’s gaze to see a fit man, with excellent cheekbones, in a cream linen suit. Reclining at a corner table, he chatted to a blushing waitress.”

Manning provides a lot of rich detail across the course of the novel – outfits, homes, streets, food, it all helps paint a picture and allows us to imagine the setting with ease.

Something I did struggle with, particularly at the beginning and still in the middle of the book when we were still getting to know all the characters– a lot of them have names starting with M, and I would constantly mix them up: Madame Marchant, Maxime Marchant, Conrad McKenzie (often referred to as just ‘McKenzie’), Mercedes and Milly Goldsmith.

“This was Charlie’s first time in such a fancy fashion house, and she felt giddy with excitement. Though her work clothes were plain, she loved dressing up for evenings out, fixing her hair and applying a bright red lip – it made her feel vibrant, strong and attractive.”

Fun and extravagant, The Paris Mystery is recommended for readers of historical and crime fiction. Readership skews female, 25+

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

The Paris Mystery
Kirsty Manning
September 2022
Allen & Unwin

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

Alice is only nine years old in 1910 when she is sent to the feared Coast Hospital lazaret at Little Bay in Sydney, a veritable prison where more patients are admitted than will ever leave. She is told that she’s visiting her mother, who disappeared one day when Alice was two. Once there, Alice learns her mother is suffering from leprosy and that she has the same disease.

As she grows up, the secluded refuge of the lazaret becomes Alice’s entire world, her mother and the other patients and medical staff her only human contact. The patients have access to a private sandstone-edged beach, their own rowboat, a piano and a library of books, but Alice is tired of the smallness of her life and is thrilled by the thought of the outside world. It is only when Guy, a Yuwaalaraay man wounded in World War I, arrives at The Coast, that Alice begins to experience what she has yearned for, as they become friends and then something deeper.

Set in a 19th century leper colony, Eleanor Limprecht’s historical fiction The Coast pivots around a cast of characters all directly impacted by leprosy in Australia in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Exploring love, family and courage, and set in the remote Little Bay just outside of Sydney, we meet a series of characters all forced into isolation after being diagnosed with leprosy.

The Coast centres around a largely unknown time in Australian history – the oppression of people suffering from leprosy and their subsequent shaming and forced isolation.

This novel offers what feels like a birds eye view of that era. We meet characters suffering from leprosy or perhaps working in the colony, but the story is void of any judgement or opinion. Eleanor is simply presenting the time as it likely happened, for us to interpret and understand on our own.

“I was not brave enough to ask Dr Moffat why he came now, rather than when we were feverish. Asking questions of adults was insolence. Wearing white cotton gloves, he scraped our skin with a little razor and placed it in a tiny lidded dish.”

Written in both first and third person, each chapter moves between characters – their POV and the accompanying year is stated at the beginning of the chapter. Eleanor offers an intimate voice, paired-back and emotional as we come to understand each character and how their lives have been impacted by the leprosy colony.

Eleanor’s writing has much to offer, bringing to life quite a large suite of characters and inviting us to fall in love with each of them. They all seem quite hopeless in the beginning, plagued by something they don’t understand or perhaps something they cannot control. But, over time, characters intersect and find solace in each other and their experiences. As the reader, we warm to their plight and find their journey both heartbreaking and heartfelt.

“He watched a moment’s grief pass over Clea’s face, but when she raised her hand to touch her hair it was gone, as quick as a fish leaping. He knew more than she thought he did.”

For those perspectives written in third person, Eleanor’s voice takes on that of an omniscient POV – we understand not only their movements and their situations, but their perspectives and feelings on their surroundings. And for the protagonist Alice, who is written in first person, whilst she is treated as an outsider and her leprosy forces her into isolation, she gets to spend time with the mother who left when she was young (who also suffers from leprosy). There is a contrast here that is quite interesting to read – her illness allows her to reconnect with her mother, and there are elements of her life that are a comfort to her. But at the same time, she and her mother are treated as lepers, hidden away from society with only each other for company.

Just a tiny note, but I did find it a little confusing at first trying to keep track of the characters. The perspectives shift quite frequently and I had to flick back to triple check whose story I was reading, what year it was, and how that corresponded to the previous chapters.

“Some days, instead of fury, I succumbed to weariness. I would stay in bed longer than I should, watching the square of daylight from the window shift across the bedroom. I read all of the book Dr Stenger brought me, all of the books I could borrow, but it was not the same as school.”

Vivid literary fiction with harsh, wild landscapes and damned but hopeful characters, The Coast is suitable for readers of literary fiction and historical sagas. Fans of familial tales might also enjoy this one. Readership skews female, 30+

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

The Coast
Eleanor Limprecht
June 2022
Allen & Unwin Book Publishers