My Death by Lisa Tuttle

 

My Death / Lisa Tuttle
read by Hillary Huber
Old Saybrook, CT: Tantor Media, 2024, c2004.

I saw someone mention this on Instagram recently and it piqued my interest. There was an audiobook edition available at my library, so I downloaded it and listened to it immediately. I've read a couple of Tuttle's other books and always find them interesting for their focus on women and mythology, in a modern setting. My Death included all these topics, in a fairly short book that turns out to have quite a wild twist in the end! 

A widowed writer is about to meet her agent, after a year of mourning in which she hasn't written at all. Trying to come up with a book idea for him, she stumbles across a painting by Helen Ralston, an artist she used to like in college. Ralston's art has been mostly overlooked, rather she is remembered primarily for her affair with an older male artist and as the model for one of his famous paintings. 

On the spur of the moment she decides she's going to write a biography of Helen Ralston -- to her surprise, Ralston is still alive, in her 90s and living with a daughter in Edinburgh. Everything just seems to be falling into her lap to get her book written, even if she just came up with the idea. 

But as it continues, this straightforward literary novel about art and writers and women's work begins to feel uncanny. The narrator starts to feel so many coincidences and similarities between Helen's life and her own, and it makes her panic a little. There's something going on that is making her uneasy, but why? Helen and her daughter are lovely, they want to help her, she should be happy about it! 

Very close to the end the creeping sense of the weird just bursts right out. I was left wondering what in the world I just heard -- and had to go back and listen again. I could not have predicted this ending in a million years, and it was a mind-bender. Tuttle doesn't tie everything up neatly, she leaves it with a bit of an open ending for you to figure out, and that may frustrate some readers, but I really enjoyed the way she did it. It's wild, something so fantastical I was taken completely by surprise -- and it was great. If you like small stories of the weird in women's lives, definitely give this one a try. It's just been republished in the NYRB series as well, so it's much more accessible now. Take a look for it! 

Challenges Past, Challenges Ahead

Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

Here is the roundup of the Reading Challenges I participated in this year - it felt like I read a mountain of books for these challenges, and I discovered some great new stories that I might not have otherwise. That's always a good thing! I usually participate in challenges only if I am really planning to read in that vein anyhow: I have so much to read that I don't really need to be prompted :)

But here's how I did with the Challenges I read for this year, and then a little about what I think I might join in on next year as well!



Challenges Done:

The Canadian Book Challenge: this one runs from July 1 to July 1, and as I'm the host of this particular challenge, I read along quite regularly! I've already hit the 13 titles that we aim for in this challenge but I keep adding each Canadian title I read. You can join in too anytime before July 1 for this year's go round.

The Classics Club Challenge: I joined in on this one last year - it's a five year challenge to read 50 classics (books selected by you, which have been published at least 25 years ago). I read more than I thought I had this year -- I'm now at 18/50 -- and have until 2022 to finish up.

RIP XIII - I had to join in on the by-now-classic spooky reading challenge this fall as it was Year 13, and what better for spooky books? I read a couple of fabulous modern gothics, my favourite kind of spooky read, and a couple of surprise finds too.

Women In Translation Month: this runs all throughout August and is more of a readalong than a challenge, really. The goal is to read and share as much of your reading of women in translation as possible. This year I really tried to review or share a booklist every day in August, and I read some fabulous stuff.

A Century of Books (ACOB): this Challenge was created by Simon at Stuck in a Book and was intended to be a one year challenge; I began four years ago. This fall I really got the urge to finish it off by the end of this year, and I did. In a final push this fall I read the last few titles I needed to complete this challenge, and found one of my faves of the year that way! I am so glad I have finally completed this challenge!!

Although the Literary Sewing Circle is a book club/sewalong challenge held at my other blog (Following The Thread) it's also a reading challenge that anyone is welcome to join in on. I'll be starting the next round in mid/late January with a great Canadian read.



Challenges to Come:

Well, this is going to be a short addition, because as I completed my list above, I realized that all I'm planning on doing in 2019 is continuing on with all of the challenges above!

Unless I find a really intriguing one that has escaped my attention so far, I am planning to keep on with the Canadian Book Challenge, the Classics Challenge, will definitely be reading lots more Women in Translation this year, and I'm going to start up another Century Of Books Challenge list -- I did it this time in four years, so my goal is to complete this round in 2 years -- I aim to be finished by the end of 2020.

What about you? Do you love challenges? Or not?

The Stratton Story, or, Mrs Westerby Changes Course

The Stratton Story, or, Mrs Westerby Changes Course / Elizabeth Cadell
London : Severn House, 1985, c1967
191 p.

I picked up this book in my library (though with the ugly & irrelevant reprint title & cover below, not the charming title & cover of the original to the right) expecting a light and twee read of England. I'm not sure where I got that idea.

It was not as light, twee, or period as I'd assumed. From the description I'd thought it would be set around the 40s, but it was contemporaneous with its writing, set in the 60s. The main character Gail Sinclair is a pretty young secretary at a small publishing house in England, and class and gender assumptions are all out in full force.

Gail is good at dealing with their unexpectedly successful author, Mrs. Stratton. She's written a book which is bringing in quite a lot of attention and money, which is lovely now that her husband has died. Everything seems to be looking up for this charming widow, except that her sister-in-law, the much older Mrs. Westerby, wants to share in her success and stay closely connected.

Mrs. Westerby, however, is loud, uncouth, all brash country behaviour which pains and embarrasses Mrs. Stratton in polite company. Nothing can dissuade Mrs. Westerby from her course of action, though, and Gail can sense that Mrs. Stratton feels both distaste and fear when Mrs. Westerby is around.

Through a few unexpected circumstances, Gail meets Mrs. Westerby at her own home in the country, at which point she realizes that she rather likes her -- she doesn't seem like such a crashing bore now. And then Gail gets roped into driving Mrs. Stratton to the Pyrenees on her own way to meet up with her brother in Europe: there's a house whose belongings need to be divided up between Mrs Stratton and Mrs Westerby, and they don't want to go together.

Gail keeps encountering Mrs Westerby and her nephew who is driving her all the way across country, though good roads and bad, mountain detours, and small hotels. And when they finally arrive, all the puzzling behaviours of all three of these individuals begin to finally make sense to Gail -- no sooner than they did to me, however, as the ending was very surprising and a huge reversal to what I had assumed the story was leading to. It was quite exciting, even with all the sexism which coloured the whole plot.

I was reading this light book just before I began reading Wharton's The House of Mirth, and strangely enough, there was some thread of connection between them. The crushing need for women to marry for money, so vital to The House of Mirth, still existed when Cadell wrote this story - at least she used it in her plotting - and being accepted or snubbed in good society, vital for the two Mrs, rests uncomfortably alongside a more loosey-goosey 60s counterculture that Gail and her family represent. This is a pivotal point in society, it seems.

In any case, the mystery in this one is actually quite good, and fairly twisty for its time. I enjoyed reading this; the characters were all individuals with quirks and hidden depths. While the romance was fairly perfunctory (what is it with people announcing their true love at the end of books when they've barely spoken throughout?), the romance was also not really the point in this one. Love in other forms took precedence. 

This was an interesting read, enough so that I'd like to read a few more of her books to see if she writes the same way in those, or if they really are more of the light-hearted fluff I was expecting here. Another reading project, quelle surprise ;)

Mrs Caliban

Mrs Caliban / Rachel Ingalls
Boston: Harvard Common Press, 1983, c1982.
125 p.

What a very odd little book, a discovery on a recent trip to Attic Books. It was in the bargain basement, I thought I'd heard about it somewhere, and so it came home with me.

And it was a super read for this season, a strange combination of domestic realism and pulp horror, with an escaped Frogman monster showing up in neglected housewife Dorothy's kitchen.

He asks for help; she matter-of-factly gives it. Since Dorothy's husband is hardly home anymore and pays no attention to her, she finds it easy to smuggle her aquatic escapee into the spare room where he stays while the police search the streets for this "Dangerous Monster".

And then Dorothy and her 6'7" monster, Larry, fall into a physical love affair. She tries to make his life more comfortable and interesting by taking him for night drives, and when they go to the shore she hears more of his life story as an aquatic life form. And through Dorothy's explanations of life and her societal norms to him, we hear the author's presentation of love, marriage, and a housewife's place in the world.

Dorothy's husband Fred has a predilection for affairs, and Dorothy loses things and people one after another. Their relationship is kind of dark and dream-like, with the type of slow-motion cartoonish violence or activity that you might feel in a dream. I'm not quite sure how the appearance of Larry reflects their marriage, but it's clear that the spark is gone there and that Dorothy needs to get out of Kansas, so to speak. 

This book was a surprise, an unexpected combination of serious relationship dramas and totally over the top monster movie tropes. It's odd, baffling, and also really entertaining. Well worth the brief time it takes to investigate this novella; I have a feeling I'll have to reread it to really get a handle on this story. Until then, if you are looking for a monsterish love story, try this out yourself!

Trickster Drift

Trickster Drift / Eden Robinson
Toronto: Knopf, c2018.
384 p.

Now for another fantastic seasonal read! I just finished this book, volume two of the Trickster trilogy, over the weekend.

It follows Jared, the main character from book one, as he gets sober and leaves his hometown of Kitimat to attend college in Vancouver. Due to many circumstances, he finds himself living with his Aunt Mave, a woman his mother hasn't spoken to in years. But to keep him safe, she connects up with her sister, a writer and Indigenous activist who welcomes him whole-heartedly but is blind to the particular dangers Jared faces - most of which are supernatural.

Things get really weird for Jared. He's being stalked by his mother's ex, David, who always seems to know where he is. He's struggling with his physics homework, at least until he finds an unexpected tutor hanging around the house. And he's finding a lot of new relatives who he didn't know previously. Oh, and his bedroom seems to be an interdimensional vortex.

This book is dark, violent in parts, and full of swearing -- and also replete with familial love and caring relationships, hilarity, and some of the best ghosts I've seen in fiction in a long time. Creatures based in Indigenous culture mix with pop culture to create spookiness at a Stephen King level, that is, if Stephen King could also be as hilarious as Eden Robinson.

Jared is a solid character, trying to do his best for everyone. In his sanguine approach to life and his otherwordly talents, combined with his mad cooking skills, he reminds me slightly of Odd Thomas from the Dean Koontz series. But of course Jared is not so solitary - he has a huge extended family of warm, caring and sometimes nosy cousins and aunties. And he has help with his supernatural adventures, at least if he wants it -- since his mother is a witch and his father is Trickster. And is Jared also a trickster? It's only when his troubles with David hit crisis point that he finds out. 

I loved reading this; the characters are all wonderful and individual, there is heartbreak alongside humour, and the creativity of her plot is mind-blowing. I can not wait until part three comes out; what is going to happen with Jared?? I want to know! 

Interested in book one? Check out my thoughts here

The Death of Mrs Westaway

The Death of Mrs Westaway / Ruth Ware
Toronto: Simon & Schuster, c2018.
368 p.

A great gothic read from an author better known for her domestic thrillers - yes, there are similarities, but the gothic themes of family secrets and old houses, with a young woman protagonist, are much more my thing.

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this seasonal read, as I wasn't taken with this author's other, very popular novels. But this one starts out promisingly, and moves along quickly with lots of trails to follow. While I did feel the ending was fairly guessable, it was still an entertaining journey.

Harriet (Hal) Westaway reads tarot on Brighton Pier, struggling to make ends meet after her mother has died. She receives a letter saying that she has received an inheritance from her grandmother, also named Westaway -- but she knows that this is a mistake, as her grandmother died many years previously. The enticement of money, just enough to catch up and pay the loan sharks, and maybe to find a better place to live, is too much for her, though, and so she travels down to Trepassen House to meet her "relatives" and cash in a little, even though she knows that it's wrong to claim this mistaken inheritance.

When she arrives, though, she slowly realizes that there is a real family connection between herself and these Westaways. A dark, crumbling house with deadbolts on the outside of Hal's attic room; a creepy housekeeper who slinks around the house like Mrs Danvers; family secrets, unexpected bequests, and deep dark twisted love affairs of the past come to light slowly and bit by bit -- until Hal has to keep herself alive just long enough to escape. 

It's perfectly old-fashioned gothic reading, with even the landscape and climate colluding with the story's atmosphere. Hal is a modern heroine, but still plays by the gothic heroine rules of not seeing what's right in front of her and metaphorically going into the basement... but it works wonderfully. The use of Hal's tarot as symbolic foreshadowing also adds to the richness of the story. The mix of classic tropes and modern conveniences is great, setting this clearly in the present but with a strong sense of the reach of the past. 

Really a great read, shivery and mysterious in all the best ways. Companion read: Daphne Du Maurier's Rebecca. 

The Saturday Night Ghost Club

The Saturday Night Ghost Club / Craig Davidson
Toronto: Knopf Canada, c2018.
272 p.

As the fall draws in, it is a good time to turn to reads that are a bit spooky, a bit shivery perhaps. The Saturday Night Ghost Club by Canadian author Craig Davidson is one of those books.

It begins with a Stranger Things, 80s vibe – young boys on their bikes, exploring strange places around Cataract City (Niagara). The cover also gives off that retro feel. But the sense of nostalgia for an 80s childhood which comes from the narrator looking back at those years and telling us all about them has a deeper significance, because this story is also about memory and trauma and how our minds manage those things. Very conveniently, the narrator, Jake, has grown up to be a neurosurgeon, with lots to say about how the brain works and how it stores memories - expanding on the theme. 

The heart of the book lies in the relationship between Jake and his Uncle Calvin. Calvin owns the Occultorium, a shop dedicated to the occult, conspiracy theories and the uncanny, and seems to be uncertain himself where that line between everyday life and the supernatural lies. He and Jake have a close relationship, partly because Uncle C seems to be a bit of a child himself, still believing in the kind of magic that gets "kicked out of you, churched out, shamed out - or worse, you steal it from yourself." As long as Jake has known him, Uncle C has never been ordinary. The summer that Jake turns twelve, Calvin invites both Jake and his new friend Billy Yellowbird to join the Saturday Night Ghost Club, in which they will visit haunted sites of Cataract City together.

After their first terrifying foray to a haunted railway tunnel, they almost call it quits. But Cal convinces them to keep checking out other locations connected to spooky urban legends. Sites which have deeper connections to their lives than any of them know. You'll have to read this fairly short book to get a sense of how these connections ultimately match up, and why. 

The tone of the story is nostalgic and folksy, with recollections of innocent adventures and misunderstandings of adult life. Jake's coming of age is centred on this summer; he loses his innocence and a belief in the world as a friendly place over the weeks of the Ghost Club. He's also experiencing his first love, once he meets Dove, Billy's tough and independent older sister. All of that 80s nostalgia and boys noticing girls thing, rolled up together with a pinch of melodrama and heartache. Perfect! 

Davidson has viscerally captured a sense of boyhood and nostalgia. The book reflects similar reads like Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine, or Stephen King's Stand By Me. It's a story you won't want to put down; it grabs you and forces you to look clearly at a summer recalled -- and to consider how we remember things and how we shape our own pasts to suit ourselves. 

I had a few quibbles with it: it did feel slightly emotionally manipulative in some ways - with dashes of sentimental writing and melodramatic revelations that made me wince slightly. And upon reflection, I'm not a fan of the golden haze laid over the intense masculinity of Jake's father and the other characters that the chubby, nerdy Jake encounters. It felt a little bit like a stage set of "the past" -- here's what real men are like, and Jake admiring it all the more because it's not what he is like. 

But as a quick literary/genre blend, with some great characters and memorable writing overall, it's a great pick. The interest in the 80s right now, even from those who didn't grow up then, added to the clear compassion that Davidson feels for his characters, equals a sure fire read. Well worth seeking out, even if it is only available in Canada for the moment. 

RIP Challenge XIII

It's the Thirteenth Year for the RIP (Readers Imbibing Peril) Challenge! (running Sept 1 - Oct 31) How can you not want to join a spooky challenge in its 13th year? Well, I must once again join in. I've done this challenge a number of times, since as founder Carl of Stainless Steel Droppings has said, fall is the best time for spooky reading.

This year's organizers have a blog dedicated to the challenge. What are the rules? Well, it's pretty easy!

The purpose of the R.I.P. Challenge is to enjoy books that could be classified as:

Mystery.
Suspense.
Thriller.
Dark Fantasy.
Gothic.
Horror.
Supernatural.

The emphasis is never on the word challenge, instead it is about coming together as a community and embracing the autumnal mood, whether the weather is cooperative where you live or not.
The goals are simple. 

1. Have fun reading.

2. Share that fun with others.

As we do each and every year, there are multiple levels of participation (Perils) that allow you to be a part of R.I.P. XII without adding the burden of another commitment to your already busy lives. There is even a one book only option for those who feel that this sort of reading is not their cup of tea (or who have many other commitments) but want to participate all the same.

Multiple perils await you. You can participate in just one, or participate in them all.

I'm choosing Peril the Second: read two books that fit within these parameters & review them before October 31! I am hoping to slide up to Peril the First and get  four books read but knowing myself I'm just aiming for two :)

While lists are not required for this challenge, I have a few titles on my tbr that would fit. My tentative list is:

• The Saturday Night Ghost Club by Craig Davidson  
• The Death of Mrs. Westaway by Ruth Ware  
• The Labyrinth of the Spirits by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
• The Crimson Blind & other stories by HD Everett
• Supernatural Tales by Vernon Lee

Hopefully I can get through some of these great reads in the next month & a half or so :)

Updated --

READ:

The Saturday Night Ghost Club by Craig Davidson

The Death of Mrs Westaway by Ruth Ware 

Trickster Drift / Eden Robinson 

Mrs Caliban / Rachel Ingalls

Mrs Westerby Changes Course / Elizabeth Cadell 

The Literary Sewing Circle

If you're wondering why it's been kind of quiet over here for the last few weeks it's because I've been busy getting another reading challenge going... this time a readalong & sewalong at my other, sewing, blog. 

If you are a reader who also loves textiles -- sewing, knitting, quilting, embroidering and so forth -- and I know there are a few of you! -- then you are welcome to join in on the Literary Sewing Circle. All the info and the reading schedule can be found in this launch post. 

The most important detail is the title of our first group read!

If you're also reading along for the RIP Challenge, this would be a great book to pick! It is spooky but not terrifying, and has some fantastic imagery to inspire you.

If you want to hear more about this project, I'm also thrilled to be able to tell you that I was a first-time guest on a podcast! The wonderful sewing podcast The Clothes Making Mavens was interested enough to have some bookish sewing chat this week. Check it out if you are into sewing -- it's very sewing oriented although we are talking books. 

Happy Fall and Happy Creating!

A Year of Challenges Past & Challenges to Come

In 2016 I decided to slow down on my Challenge reading. But as it turned out, I read much more than expected for challenges that popped up throughout the year!

First, I read for my year-long Century of Books project. Originally this was a 2 year challenge but I'm just reading along with it now until I'm done, however long it takes. 

I've read & reviewed titles representing 69 years, only 31 to go.



I joined in on the RIP Challenge once again, and really enjoyed a month of mysteries & spooky reads. I read:

The Couple Next Door / Shari Lapena
Running on Fumes / Christian Guay-Poliquin
The Spawning Grounds / Gail Anderson-Dargatz
Uncanny Stories / May Sinclair
The Motion of Puppets / Keith Donohue
The Hunter & the Wild Girl / Pauline Holdstock
An Air That Kills / Margaret Millar

 

I also happened upon the #WomenInTranslation challenge month in August, and jumped right in -- that was a lot of fun and I really enjoyed combining #WIT with my ongoing Canadian Book Challenge. I reviewed 10 books first published in Canadian French, 2 translated from Inuktitut, 1 from Catalan, 1 from Norwegian, and 3 from France French.

And on that note, I'm halfway through this year's Canadian Book Challenge (wherein the challenge is to read and review 13 Canadian books from July 1 - July 1) and have been meeting my own monthly goal of 13 reviews a month, so far at least! 

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And for 2017, my reading challenges will be much the same: 

Reading as many titles for the Century of Books as possible (hopefully 31!)

Reading more Women in Translation all year long, but especially in August.

Joining the RIP Challenge again, as usual.

And, reading and reviewing LOTS more Canadian books for the rest of the 10th Canadian Book Challenge and more for the 11th Canadian Book Challenge! 

May Sinclair's Uncanny Stories

Uncanny Stories / May Sinclair
Ware, Hertfordshire: Wordsworth Editions, 2006, c1923.
216 p.

This collection of 8 stories by one of England's best known female writers pre-Virginia Woolf was ... interesting. The stories are all spooky, dealing with the psychic, spiritual, and Freudian-influenced world. 

They are uncanny, weird in the traditional sense. None are terrifying or creepy, so to speak, but they do delve into repressed feelings, psychic connections, and the endlessness of the afterlife. 

Some stories are stronger than others, as usual in any collection. I liked "The Intercessor", a fairly straightforward story of a haunting, and a man who is unwittingly pulled into the troubled family which both caused and is suffering the effects of the lonely child ghost that he can sense, and is yet unafraid of. I felt that this was the most 'spooky' story in the lot, but was also quite tender.

"The Token", about a man whose wife returns from the grave to determine whether he ever loved her, and "The Victim", in which a jealous man who works as a chauffeur for a country squire murders him grotesquely, are both strong as well. They are brief and have no extraneous existential or philosophical angst to detract from the storyline. 

A few of the others, notably "The Finding of the Absolute" and "The Flaw in the Crystal" are much more arcane and intellectual, which also makes them a little dull and theoretical rather than robustly human.

As a whole, though, Sinclair's stories are fascinating for their early feminism and modernist approach to the Uncanny. She is frank about sexuality and Freudian motivators for crimes and/or hauntings; she places women at the centre of many of her stories. I found the introduction, by Paul March-Russell, illuminating in its explanation of Sinclair's involvement in the Modernist movement and her impetus to write -- she was left to support her mother and six brothers after her father drank himself to death (this sounds like a fairy-tale trope to me!). She published over 40 books -- novels, stories, essays, book reviews (including one in which she invented the literary term "stream of consciousness")

I always leave introductions and forewords til last, after I've read a book on its own merits, and in this case, I strongly recommend doing so, as the introduction does delve into the details of the stories. So if you don't like spoilers, especially with stories like this, read them for yourself first, then turn to the intro for some commentary and context. 

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Further Reading:

If you like classic spooky tales told from a woman's perspective, you might like any of the other collections by women in this Wordsworth series, Tales of Mystery & the Supernatural, like Edith Nesbit, Elizabeth Gaskell, Edith Wharton, Gertrude Atherton, Vernon Lee, and more.

The Motion of Puppets

The Motion of Puppets / Keith Donohue
New York: Picador, c2016.
260 p.

It's RIP season, and what better choice for this time of year than creepy puppets? It's my favourite kind of spooky reading.

In this entry into the very specific creepy puppets genre, Kay Harper and her new husband Theo are living in Quebec City while Theo tries to finish writing a book and Kay works in a theatre troupe.

Kay is mesmerized by a toy shop she passes on the way to work, which is never open and looks dusty and abandoned, though there is a tiny wooden mannequin in a bell jar that she can't stop looking at. One day, as she's gazing in, "ever so slightly, the wooden man in the bell jar turned his head to watch her, but she never saw him move, for she had hurried away, late again."

That's the first indication we have that something very unnerving is going on. Then late one night, Kay feels as if she's being followed on her way home, and tries the toy shop door, which is mysteriously open. But she never comes out. As one character says sagely, "Never enter a toy shop after midnight."

Theo is distraught, trying to find her but of course, police investigators look at him as the prime suspect, and no-one will ever think of her being abducted by puppet makers and turned into a marionette.

Kay, meanwhile, is adapting uneasily to her new life as a puppet in the back room of the shop, alongside many other uncannily life-like puppets who can all move and talk from midnight to daylight. They begin to form puppet alliances. Kay remembers her previous life and is sure Theo will come to rescue her even while everyone else tells her to forget and adjust to life as it is now. The only way out of this life is if someone comes for you, and leads you out...but who would think to do so?

Theo makes alliances of his own, first with a dwarf who worked for the same theatre that Kay did, then with a professor of classics once back in New York at his university. The three of them figure things out - long story - and make a plan to invade a barn in the backwoods of New York where the travelling puppet theatre has landed for the winter.

Now, if I had realized that this story was based on / inspired by the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, I may have been better prepared for the trajectory. As it is, I was let down and disappointed by the conclusion. There was no resolution, no positive sense of restoration or of love conquering all or any of those kinds of things. All the build-up, and then the story just deflated. I was not expecting the final pages at all.

The story wasn't all that creepy, really, even with some grotesquerie. I would easily suggest this to an older teen reader, as the story isn't overly complex or difficult. Previous books I've read in this area, such as Joanne Owens' The Puppet Master (published as a children's book) were denser and more developed.

So while it's a good fit for this time of year, this was just an okay read for me. I want a little more resolution in my puppet tales, a bit more overcoming-all-odds-and-ending-of-the-nightmare kind of thing. Maybe next year!

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Further Reading:

Either of the creepy puppet books I've previously read for the RIP Challenge in the past would be a good next pick, from The Puppet Master to Laura Amy Schlitz' Splendors & Glooms.

And if what you're looking for is a dark tale of toy shops and female leads, incorporating some terrifying puppets, you can't go wrong with Angela Carter's The Magic Toyshop.

An Air That Kills

Soho's Ebook Cover

An Air That Kills / Margaret Millar
New York: Soho Press, 2016, c1957.
112 p.

Many people may know by now that I adore Margaret Millar's writing. I've collected what I could of her titles -- they were very hard to find, until now.

I was thrilled to see, a couple of months ago, that Soho Press (based in NY) was republishing all of her work in a collected set. How exciting! I immediately put all of the available volumes on order, and am eagerly awaiting the chance to order the final volume. They are being released in a staggered timeline -- about every two months.

The first volume is already available, and in fact my copy is already at bedside; it's the collection of her best known work, of which I've previously read two (including her stunning The Beast in View -- if you only read one of her works, it has to be that one). They are also releasing each work separately as an ebook with these retro covers if you prefer that format. But I couldn't resist the set: when you've bought them all, look what happens!

Anyhow, I decided to start with An Air That Kills, as it has the unusual setting of Toronto and northwards to Georgian Bay. Unusual for her, because although she was born and raised in the Kitchener Waterloo region, she and her husband Kenneth Millar (better known as mystery writer Ross Macdonald) lived much of their life in Santa Barbara, and she set most of her books in California.

The basic story is this: Ron Galloway is heading up to his Georgian Bay lodge for a fishing trip with his close friends, Harry, Ralph, Bill and Joe . He never makes it. Ron's wife Esther is suspicious, Harry's wife Thelma is involved more closely than we first know, and his disappearance is "solved" halfway through the book. But that is only the beginning of the search for the "why" of this story.

Like most of Millar's stories, it's a book that twists and turns, that makes you think it is about one thing which turns out to be something altogether different in the end. She is brilliant at plotting, depending heavily on psychology and character in her stories. And she is a sly writer, throwing in phrases and words that capture someone effortlessly.

For example, a lawyer in one chapter can't understand the inclination for generosity or understanding in his client. As he leaves her house:

He walked stiffly down the broad stone steps of the veranda and crossed the driveway to his car with ponderous dignity, like a penguin crossing an Antarctic waste, never missing the warm places of the world because he did not know they existed.

Volume 1 of the Collected Works

She also takes time to describe minor characters in such a way that they stick in your head and make you wonder about their stories as well. In this book, there is a young Mennonite girl on the way to school who finds a crucial piece of evidence for the investigation of Ron Galloway's disappearance. She has no idea about that, though, and just admires her find.

Aggie was a quiet child of eleven. She behaved decorously at school and obediently at home, and no one ever suspected what an adventurous spirit lurked behind her brown braids and black bonnet, or what itchy feet were buckled inside her canvas galoshes.

Her character is sketched out so thoroughly in just a few paragraphs that I haven't stopped thinking about her, or about her teacher Miss Barabou, who informs the police. 

Miss Barabou sat in the back of the Buick alone, holding herself stiff and resistant to the feeling of adventure that was growing inside her with every turn of the road and every glance at the Constable's face half visible in the rear-view mirror. He's really quite a nice man. Humorous too. Betty said she heard he's a widower, all his children are grown and he lives by himself. He needs a haircut.

This mystery involves friends, betrayals, class divisions, affairs, secrets, and perceptions shifting over and over. It's classic Millar, full of both insights and misdirections. She draws the characters fully, and gives an insular small-town feeling to a Toronto is which everyone knows everything (or will) - which is so important to the story. I will not give anything away except to say these characters are alive and you will be captivated by their motivations and secrets. And if you know Ontario at all, the geography is just an added bonus to read about and recognize.

Can't wait to read the next two stories in this volume now!

The Hunter & The Wild Girl

The Hunter and the Wild Girl / Pauline Holdstock
Fredericton, NB: Goose Lane, c2015
340 p.

This is a beautifully told, fable-like novel of 19th c. France that I came across by chance and really loved. BuriedInPrint reviewed it last fall, and suggested that it really fits into the theme of RIP reading. Although that hadn't first occurred to me, it really does so -- there is a thread that runs through this tale which resonates with the kind of stories told in the dark of night.

The hunter of the title is Peyre Rouff, who, after a terrible hunting accident, lives alone, focusing on his taxidermy skills. He doesn't want to talk to anyone from the village, and they feel much the same. 

The wild girl is a feral child who roams the forest but is seen on a foray to steal food from the village. Chased by the townspeople, she leaps off a cliff into a gorge, disappearing into the river far below.

But she emerges on the other side, unknown to all but Peyre, as she finds his stronghold. He tries to tame her, enclose her, thinking he's helping; but the urge to be free wars with the need for human connection. The relationship changes them both, and opens a road forward for Peyre to return to human society after many years of self-imposed isolation.

It's a very quiet, still story. It feels like an old-fashioned and quite French narrative; isolated settlements of people who don't like change or difference, tragedies, families identified by their occupational roles and so forth. But it's also lovely despite the bleakness. The writing is soothingly even whether describing daily mundane activity or great tragedy. There really is a sense of fairy tale wildness in it, with nature imposing its implacable will on human society. And there is also an element of wildness in that very human society; how does an individual find their place in a community that doesn't easily accept anything out of the ordinary? 

Holdstock has written a complex and archetypal story that should appeal to many readers, but especially to those who like a twisty, slow-paced, very character oriented story. It rewards close reading, and is perfect for a dark autumnal evening.

The Couple Next Door

The Couple Next Door / Shari Lapena
Toronto: Doubleday, c2016
320 p.

This novel probably doesn't need any introduction to my readers as this point; it is on the top ten bestsellers lists in the UK, Canada, and the US. It's Lapena's first thriller, but third novel. (Her previous two novels, Things Go Flying and Happiness Economics, were both comic literary novels, both of which I really enjoyed, btw)

In this domestic suspense novel, we have a couple, Anne and Marco Conti, who leave their infant daughter Cora alone in the house while they go next door for dinner -- against Anne's instincts, but since they take the baby monitor with them, and check on her every half hour, they think it will be okay. 

It isn't. 

When Marco goes to check on her at 12:30, Cora is gone. 

As the investigation begins, they are all suspect. Secrets from Anne's past re-emerge; Marco's financial status is laid bare. Anne's family, who have never much liked Marco, take the chance to drive this home now that their granddaughter is missing. Lots of hateful and devious interchanges occur between them all, with their trust in the other eroding. Inspector Rasbach, experienced at these kind of things, knows they are hiding something. 

As the story spins ever faster, we learn so many things about all the characters that we can't be sure any of our suspicions or impressions are right, or even close. While eventually I did guess what must have happened, the final conclusion shocked and surprised me. But it was perfectly supported by what had come before. 

While this kind of read isn't my usual fare, it's obvious by its overwhelming reception that thriller readers are eating it up. I certainly read it in a rush, wanting to know what was going on. I did find the writing style quite choppy and fragmented, reflecting the content, I suppose. I always gravitate toward character and writing in my favourite books, and this one was definitely plot based -- different from her earlier work, but already very successful as a thriller.

So, if you like this genre, this is definitely a must-read. Best-seller lists everywhere agree ;)

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Further Reading

This novel fits in with the current craze for domestic suspense & spouses who don't really know what the other is up to. Any of these other top books in this genre would match the feel of this novel: The Widow by Fiona Barton, Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins, Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn, or The Silent Wife by A.S.A. Harrison.

Running On Fumes

Running on Fumes / Christian Guay-Poliquin; translated from the French by Jacob Homel.
Vancouver: TalonBooks, c2016.
187 p.

The electricity goes off one day, giving our narrator an early release from his job as a mechanic in a nameless but obvious Fort MacMurray setting. But, it doesn't come back on. After a build up of some panic and unrest, our nameless mechanic jumps in his car, feeling driven to reconnect with his estranged father, back in Quebec.

And thus begins his journey of 4,736 kilometres, the return of the prodigal son, anxious to get to his father before the unexplained power failure and/or his father's dementia prevent him from gaining some closure in their relationship.

His anxiety about his father, and the growing panic on the roads -- lack of gas, looting, people forming tribal groups & suspicious of outsiders, just to name a few -- force him to keep driving, with as little sleep as he can manage. Eventually picking up a female hitchhiker, and then another passenger, his route is delayed and rerouted more than he'd planned. This road trip felt like one of those awful nightmares when you're running and running and not getting anywhere.

The metaphor of a labyrinth, with its minotaur at the centre waiting for him, is brought up a few times, suggesting that the engine of the car echoes the sound of the hooves of the minotaur tracking down the hero. Unfortunately, I didn't think that the metaphor was all that strong; it felt forced, and not fully applicable. 

And there were other things that kept me from enjoying this book as much as I wanted to: the action was limited to the main character's experience, and most of that was driving a car. It unfortunately dragged at times much like a lengthy road trip can in reality. His passengers were odd, and I had my suspicions about them from the first; the explanation for them once he reached Quebec was unsatisfactory. And the conclusion of the story -- argh! It was unnecessary melodrama that robbed the story of any meaning, for me; it took away the goal and the purpose of the entire premise which drove the book. And it felt too faux ironic, too much of a writer's hand moving the pieces than an organic conclusion.

Another issue I have is with the translation itself; Homel explains in a translator's afterword that he changed the novel from present-tense, as-it-happens narration (which he says is a common French style) into a past tense English version - which he also says is a more traditional way of telling these kinds of stories in English. But I don't want a revised English edition, I want the French text told in the way the author intended. And I don't agree with the idea that the original French style is unusual; I've read many contemporary novels in English which use the same style. Personally, I like a more direct translation. I suppose it's another reason to brush up my French so that I can read literary novels in the original...a long-term goal, perhaps.

It sounds like I hated this book -- I didn't. I'd give it 3 of 5 stars; there were interesting ideas in it, and some good descriptive passages - it covers a lot of ground, quite literally. But these elements that I've mentioned really did lessen my enjoyment of it, and so my overall impression was just, well, meh.

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Further Reading:

While Homel mentions many manly road novels in his translator's note, I feel he missed out on one of the best apocalyptic travel novels of the recent past, Station Eleven. Unlike this novel, the characters in Station Eleven are not loners; they band together and work communally to survive. And so they do.

Marcel Theroux' Far North also gives me the same sense as this novel. It has a narrator alone in an apocalyptic future, making a living from the scraps of human existence, facing an undetermined breakdown of society. And then he goes on the road to find others. I found it more complex and satisfying than Running on Fumes, with a less claustrophobic narrative.

The Spawning Grounds

The Spawning Grounds / Gail Anderson-Dargatz
Toronto: Knopf, c2016.
300 p.

This new novel by Gail Anderson-Dargatz was well worth waiting for. I just raced through it in two days. 

On the face of it, it's an uncomplicated, quick read with lots of drama, all about a family who has lived in the Thompson-Shuswap region of British Columbia, along the shores of the Lightning River, since the gold rush of 1860 -- and across the river from Shuswap territory.

It's about the salmon in the river, and the careless behaviour of farmers, ranchers, settlers, all those who've added to the increased silting, decreased water flow, and resultant decrease in the ability of salmon to return to their spawning grounds.

It's about one family, the Robertsons, and the difficult love between parents and siblings, as well as their varied romantic entanglements. 

It's about the history and the present situation of the Shuswap in the face of more development on their land, and their relationship with those who settled there in the past.

And it's about the river mystery, a spirit who has caused much tragedy and uproar over the years in its singleminded focus on its own purposes - even to the point of suicide by those whom it has inhabited.

So as you read and reflect, it doesn't seem so uncomplicated after all. The surface of the story is deceptively calm, like the Lightning River, but the story holds a deep mystery as well. Hannah and Brandon Robertson are the latest generation to live at the family homestead; Brandon in high school and Hannah in university. But their childhood friend from across the river, Alex, is now turning into more than a friend for Hannah, and is instrumental in the action that flows from Brandon's encounter with the river mystery.

Anderson-Dargatz has woven together environmental concerns about the river and salmon levels, which Hannah is heavily involved in trying to measure and fix, with the spiritual and myth-based explanations that Alex brings forward from Shuswap tradition. She holds the tension between the two belief systems and makes them equally important to the narrative. The Robertson's family story is entangled with the stories of the river, and only Alex's storytelling can make sense of it.

It's a great read, and perfect for this time of year, with its tales of the spirit world and the dark and stormy nights that the spirit brings on while Hannah and Alex fight to rescue Brandon and save their communities. Really interesting read, and one with a very strong sense of place.

Fall is here... because RIPXI is beginning!

This is what I love about the book blogging world...so many enthusiasms! One reading month ends, another begins. And what a challenge this one is.

The RIP Challenge is a great one - so easy to follow along with. I've been reading along for a few years now, as the challenge matches perfectly with the feeling at this time of year; the end of summer, the beginning of perhaps cooler days, fall sweeping through, and by the end of the Sept 1 - Oct 31 of this challenge, definitely the sense of spooks and darker nights.

So I'll be reading along again this year, as Carl of Stainless Steel Droppings leads the 11th Round of his RIP Challenge. I hope you'll consider joining in too!

The parameters are simple:

R.eaders I.mbibing P.eril XI takes place from September 1st, 2016 through October 31st, 2016.
There are only two expectations if you want to participate with us:

1. Have fun reading (and watching*).
2. Share that fun with others.
There are multiple levels of participation so that you can imbibe as much, or as little, as you desire/as time permits, and still consider yourselves a part of this community event.

What are RIP books? Simply, anything considered as:

Mystery
Suspense
Thriller
Gothic
Horror
Dark Fantasy

The level that I'm choosing to sign up at is Peril the First: read four books from any of the above categories. And then share them at the RIP Review Site.

While lists and pre-made choices are not required, here are a few that I hope to get to this RIP round.

Running on Fumes / Christian Guay-Poliquin
Confessions / Kanae Minato
Motion of Puppets / Keith Donohue (because what's RIP without creepy puppets?)
The Alchemist & the Angel / Joanne Owen


And I'm sure I'll come up with many more...I'm always open to suggestions too.

Welcome Fall, and welcome RIPXI

A Pretty Fairy Tale...

Fairy Tale / Alice Thomas Ellis
London: Penguin, 1997, c1996.
227 p.

I loved this book.

Eloise, the dippy main character, sitting under trees in the Welsh countryside and sewing nightgowns, wishing for a baby.

Clare, the impatient urban mother and Miriam, Eloise's sharp-eyed godmother, both come to visit, when a grandchild suddenly appears.

Simon, the hapless father, toiling all day without understanding how very out of place he is in this little red house of women.

And the fey. The deceptively mild, business-like Watchers who expect an awful lot from these humans, including getting their baby back.

This book is weird, in the true sense, with an uncanny setting, including the above-mentioned Watchers. There is spookiness, with a creepy changeling (one which only Miriam -and the cat - seems to be able to see through). Eloise is being drawn into the fey world, losing time and unable to recall what she was doing when she returns dry as a bone from a rainy walk in the forest. Or returning from the woods with a new baby...

Ellis uses fairy tale elements; Eloise wishes heartily for a baby, she pricks her finger on her sewing and a drop of blood falls onto the white linen, and four men appear in the yard. There are mysterious tales about the queens who lived in the red cottage where these hapless English people now find themselves. And the need for a blood sacrifice is strong - but thank goodness for a ridiculously funny scene in which the fey are covered in confusion.

The reason this story works is because of Ellis' biting wit. She skewers Eloise's belief in the goodness of nature and the old gods, fed to her by her New Age acquaintance Moonbird. And yet she seems to mock her own interpretation of these old gods as dangerous and amoral, as well. There is so much dark humour and sarcasm in this story -- perhaps that's why I loved it.

It can't really be summarized or it will ruin the reading for others. The writing is crisp and pared down, no padding here. There are witty asides, quotable bits, and clever women -- especially Miriam, whom I adored. Eloise's problems are resolved not by her fairy godmother, but her very down-to-earth, real-life godmother, who takes on the fairies all on her own.

There are clever lines, like this one, describing the way country life begins to affect Clare and Miriam -- “The days went by like carelessly turned pages, so that she seemed to have missed whole passages, and sometimes felt that she must have turned two pages without noticing.” And many more that I could share, but, well, you should just pick this one up yourself!

It's an entertaining read, with many dark elements that somehow feel matter of fact in context. The only stumble for me was the final pages; the ending was not quite right for my tastes. It feels very much like a book of its time. But it was an enjoyable discovery, one just perfect for the dark and windy nights at this time of year.


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Further Reading:

For more on women and their interplay with self-focused fey, try Susanna Clarke's The Ladies of Grace Adieu. These short stories show women who find power in magic, and outwit the fey at their own game. More straightforward fantasy than Ellis' Fairy Tale, they still hold the same Englishness and quiet wit in the telling.

Penelope Lively is another choice if what you are interested in is the interplay between mothers and daughters, and concise social commentary within fictional tales. Lively also writes brief, considered prose and includes reflections on how the distant past affects the present, whether supernaturally or not.