Deborah W

Not a fan of jellyfish? Not to worry — you will be by the end of this novel. While I wasn't as enamored of Clementine, the giant red bioluminescent jelly at the heart of this novel, as I was of Marcellus in "Remarkably Bright Creatures," I nonetheless cared about her and enjoyed learning about the species. (Each chapter opens with a paragraph about one scientific or biological feature of jellyfish from a manuscript the central character, Jo — a research scientist passionate about jellyfish — is writing.)

   However, I felt the novel depended too much on Japanese folklore about yokai, supernatural sightings, and strange happenings. Although the author skillfully ratchets up the tension for most of the book — what exactly is happening on the isolated island of Shattering Point? what is Clementine doing? who will prevail in the best way to deal with Clementine, the islanders or Jo? will Jo figure out her love life? — suddenly everything is wrapped up too quickly and neatly at the end.

   I wanted to like this book more than I did, because it has a strong environmental message: we don't know everything yet about the world under the sea, so we should be careful about what we do to our oceans, and what assumptions we make about the creatures who live there. I'll remember Clementine and her glowing tentacles, and maybe that's enough.

Bo is 89 years old and in failing health. But his long life has given him much to reflect on: his marriage to his beloved wife, his deep attachment to his dog, his relationships both with his son and also his own father as well as his best friend. As the days pass, as we spend time inside Bo's memories of the past and follow his daily activities in the present, we come to care for him and the life he has lived, imperfect as it may have been. I'm not an old man, I'm not Swedish, I'm not incontinent, I was never beaten by my father, but I nonetheless formed an intense bond with Bo that left me in tears at the end. This is a book that makes you think about what needs to be said, why we need to tell those close to us that we love them, and why it's important not to have regrets.

I have a doctoral degree in English literature with a specialization in nineteenth century British fiction; Dickens is one of my favorite authors. So it's no wonder I was eager to read this novel! But you don't have to be familiar with "Oliver Twist," or a fan of the musical "Oliver," to enjoy this fresh take on Fagin, Dickens' infamous thief who trained a cadre of young boys in the fine art of pickpocketing. Here we learn Fagin's backstory: how he grew up Jewish in London and turned to thievery, how he took in Bill Sykes and then Nancy, and then the Artful Dodger and then Oliver, among others, and how in the end his little empire fell to pieces with Nancy's death. And here Fagin is more than a caricature: he's a fully-developed character with an inner life, philosophical musings about life and death, and a ferocious will to live. Various London neighborhoods, prisons, and communities come alive in this book, with lots of historically accurate details including foods, clothing styles, London fogs, and river Thames smells. If you're looking for a book to take you away to another time and place, and immerse you in the lives of others, this one is perfect.

In a novel that spans three generations, the Cassar family lands in Algeria, France, Buenos Aires, the United States, and Canada (and that's a shortened list). So where is "home?" What country is yours? In the end, the characters learn that "home was a matter not of geography but family" and "family was all that ultimately mattered." And what a family it is. We are drawn to all of them as they move around the world and through the decades starting with World War II, the young couple who are grandparents by the end, their two children who we watch grow up, and then the two granddaughters. This beautifully written book immerses us in vivid descriptions of numerous locations, examples of how we're all affected by the times we live in, and finely attuned analyses of these characters' inner lives; we're sorry to see it end. Readers will find much to connect to and enjoy in this tale.

I requested this book because I have enjoyed the author's previous work and generational family sagas are one of my favorite genres. So I was predisposed to like what I was reading, but was sadly disappointed. I found the opening section disjointed and off-putting in terms of style and content. Perhaps I couldn't relate to Nell, the youngest generation, because of my own age. However, I enjoyed the sections about Carmel, the middle generation, and the writing style there was more what I expected overall. The author's insights about motherhood were spot on, and the mother-daughter dynamics rang true. Over the course of the book I became more appreciative of Nell, until the writing again turned odd. Only at the very end has Nell matured enough to have her perspective conveyed in a more traditional style. This is a book for those more adventurous in their reading tastes, not for traditionalists.

"Last House Before the Mountain" is a spare, quiet story told in plain language by a nameless narrator. It's set in Austria during the Great War, and it's mostly about her grandmother, the beautiful Maria, with some about her inscrutable grandfather, Josef and also their children, which includes her own mother. Who is the narrator's grandfather? Is it Josef, or someone else? With parental names like that, could the child be the product of an immaculate conception? The story loops back on itself several times, covering the same episodes from different perspectives (when they occurred, for example; and what the narrator's aunt says about them years later); and sometimes the narrator muses about what might have been said that might have changed things. The story has the feel of an allegory, something out of time that speaks to us across time. It's an unusual book with deep themes, but it's not for everyone.

You know the stories and yet — from this female perspective — you don't, so this re-imagining of Greek myths grips you and you eagerly turn the pages. You know some of the names of the gods, demi-gods, and mortals (the men: Minos, Theseus, Dionysus); vaguely remember others (the women: Ariadne, Phaedra, Medusa); and still others are completely unknown or long forgotten (Pasiphae). Familiar gods make cameo appearances and minor characters in the myths take center stage. The title is "Ariadne," but some of the story belongs to her mother and even more to her sister. Women's plight, women's power (or lack thereof), women's cunning, women's heroism, women's solidarity, women's woes, childbirth, wifedom, motherhood — this book contains them all and puts women in the forefront of the stories we thought we knew but now know we don't. Fans of "Circe" by Madeline Miller will find this a worthy companion, and book clubs will find much to discuss here.

Reading "Migrations" was a cold shock to my system, like the icy ocean waters the protagonist, Franny, often dived into. The author describes a future we do not want. But her bleak vision is only one element of this engrossing story. The novel is also a warm combination of a love story, a perilous journey, a dark back-story that is only gradually revealed, echoes of classics ("Moby Dick" and Jules Verne and Hans Christian Andersen immediately come to mind, along with tales of orphans), and mesmerizing nature writing about places and the ocean and of course, birds. Just as "Flight Behavior" changes the way its readers look at and think about butterflies, and "The Overstory" does that for trees, so "Migrations" does that for birds. I read this while "sheltering-in-place" during the corona virus outbreak. It's too late to stop the global spread of the virus; but hopefully it's not too late to have a brighter future for our planet than the one "Migrations" paints. I have lots of time now, so I'll be thinking about what I can do about global warming; and I'll be thinking about Franny — what she was passionate about, where she ended up, and how her tale can empower us. Book groups will find much to discuss here.

In this delightful novel about Jane Austen's sister Cassandra the author deftly weaves in familiar Austen plot elements: sisters and their immediate and extended relatives; seaside visits; a public dance and a picnic; visits with friends; domestic issues and long walks; off-stage marriage proposals and their consequences; mistakes about love, some fixable and some not; and the necessity of finding one's place in the world, particularly for unmarried women. The author's tone and details are spot-on throughout, and key biographical facts and dates are followed. In addition to playing a central role Cassandra also showcases her sister's wit and insights. The book is a treat for Jane Austen's many fans, a charming return to her world; and I, for one, was glad to spend time there.

Today so many immigrants are on the move around the world, for so many reasons, that it's hard to put ourselves in the shoes of these refugees, difficult to imagine their lives. "Travelers" humanizes this situation by pulling us inside the lives of half-a dozen Africans attempting to resettle in Europe. The primary character, a Nigerian studying for his Ph.D. in America, goes abroad when his wife wins a fellowship.

She will paint the portraits of "Travelers," but he will interact with them, getting deeply involved with some. In the process he will need to decide whether to go in the opposite direction and follow his roots back to Africa, whether to stay in Europe, or whether to return to America. Which path is right for him? For his fellow travelers?

The topic is important and timely, but what makes this book worth reading is that the stories are on a human scale. One-to-one, we can better understand the desperation of immigrant families, learn how refugees are treated, and see the consequences of governmental policies — not through polemics or statistics but through stories of human beings like ourselves, people who want to have better lives for their children and opportunities for themselves. The book is well-written, the characters are memorable, and I was glad to have spent time in their company.

Book clubs will find much to discuss here, as will readers of such books as "Exit West" and "The Map of Salt and Stars."