The Things We Never Say, by Elizabeth Strout.

 

      Once again – and as we fully expect of a writer of her calibre – Elizabeth Strout has charmed and saddened us with the story of Artie Dam, a popular and gifted high school teacher in a small town in Massachusetts, and any of Strout’s legions of fans can empathise with his situation, for we recognise so many of his problems, having dealt with similar crises in our own lives.

       Artie has been married to Evie, his one true love for many years and they have one son, now married himself.  Because Artie is from a humble background and his wife’s family is wealthy, he has married ‘up’ and she (in her family’s opinion) has married ‘down’;  consequently their nuptials were official but muted;  no big white wedding for Evie – that would  be for her younger sister whose groom was socially acceptable.  But who cared?  They were in love and, as we all know, Love conquers all.

       Except when it comes to conception:  it took a long time for their son to arrive, in fact hopes were fading for the completion of their little family when the miracle occurred and Rob arrived to make their family complete  Or did he?  Artie, instead of revelling in the good fortune and perfection of his little family unit is feeling increasingly isolated and alone;  in fact, he really would

  not mind resigning from life tomorrow if need be – until a near-fatal accident rejigs  his  ideas about seeing a few more sunrises – and making some new friends (his rescuers):  Life definitely has its moments!

       But Fate with its many fickle fingers has another shock for him in the shape of a letter received by his son, who badly needs his advice – which Artie doesn’t know how to give, never having been in such a situation, not to mention the fact that the information contained in the letter affects him and his former assessments of his whole adult life:  what should Rob and he do now:  tell everyone that they finally know a huge secret, or say nothing and condone a shameful act – perpetrated for all the right reasons (naturally!)

       Yes, we all have similar instances, similar secrets – who to tell, when to tell, and IF, but no-one illustrates these conundrums with more skill than Elizabeth Strout:  in her gentle, understated prose she shocks us all into wondering about the consequences of our actions – or the consequences of doing nothing.  As only a superlative writer can do.  SIX STARS   

 

 

 

Friends of Dorothy, by Sandi Toksvig.

 

       Many years ago in more repressive times, a Friend of Dorothy was a euphemism for someone who preferred to be with the same sex – a Gay, queer, homosexual, call it what you will, but it’s the 21^st century now and everyone has moved on with the names, to the extent that two recently wed women have just bought a house in a slightly run-down part of London, Grimaldi Square to be exact, and apart from being brand-new property owners,  Paramedic Amber is suddenly overtaken by a huge, impossible-to-ignore urge to be a mother.  Which wife police constable Stevie is understandably gobsmacked about:  a baby is the last thing she is thinking of, particularly as the old lady they bought the house from (coincidentally called Dorothy) hasn’t vacated the premises yet.  And she doesn’t look in any hurry to do so, either.

       Stevie is feeling ever so slightly under siege, even more so when she meets their next-door neighbour Mrs Haggerston, a deeply prejudiced believer in the Old Order of Things.  Grimaldi Square might be a harder Gay nut to crack than first thought.  There is also a decaying Pub across the Square called The Price of Onions – it’s not as though Amber and Stevie’s life won’t be interesting, but everyday life will be very different from what they’d imagined, especially as Dorothy is taking her time to move.  Well, where is she going to move to?  And as time moves on, it is revealed that Dorothy has had a very full life of her own, with not a little tragedy thrown in. A sleazy ex-husband even makes an appearance, and it takes some time before he is dealt with satisfactorily enough.   (I can still hear the cheers ringing round the Square when he is finally paid what he thinks he is owed!)

       Sandi Toksvig has created her own loving little community in Grimaldi Square;  every character rings true and those who are beset by depression and anxiety – it’s time for Stevie to change her job – find that there are new gardens and new interests for those who thought their lives were almost over.  Well, being a friend of Dorothy has given Dorothy purpose as well;  she’s no longer just marking time till it’s time to go:  she’s got too much to do now changing the Square to suit all its occupants – even Mrs Haggerston!  This is a joyous book:  SIX STARS.  

 

        

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Slash, by Gavin Strawhan.

 

            Slash:  the waste branches cut away from logged pine trunks in huge forests, much of it reclaimed from farmland, and now a thriving industry in New Zealand where Strawhan’s thriller is set.  Cyclone Gabrielle has wrought death and destruction on the North Island’s East coast and no-one knows what their future will hold – if anything.  Everybody is licking their wounds and hoping that the sun will shine again and that their missing loved ones will miraculously appear – the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.

            Into this vale of tears comes ex-police sergeant Honey Palmer – yes, I did my usual trick of reading out of sequence;  fortunately, her previous adventures and misfortunes are well-documented (read ‘The Call’).  It’s clear that she is not doing well since she left the police, and working as a Private Investigator shadowing an errant hubby is not Honey’s idea of job satisfaction, in fact she’d rather be drowning her sorrows (and she has many) than watch said Hubby poke and prod his simpering E. A..  BUT!  It pays the bills, so bite the bullet, Honey.

            Until a young police constable and his father approach her (she has quite a rep!) with a request that she consider looking into the disappearance of their son and brother, missing now for several weeks, the problem being that the missing boy is no saint, has already served time for armed robbery and didn’t seem chastened by the experience.  To make matters more complex, an elderly retired couple have died a grisly and unexplained death originally blamed on Cyclone Gabrielle but the police are now treating the deaths as potential homicides, and the missing son as suspect #1.

            Honey would rather get back to Auckland and spend some wine time with her best friend Michelle, who has just been dumped by her latest boyfriend, the disadvantage being that Michelle really liked him, so she needs Honey’s shoulder; the sticking point being that when Honey reviews all the paperwork father and son give her she becomes intrigued, firstly by the shoddy initial police work, then the unfair emphasis on ‘we’ve got our man, no need to investigate further’.  Whatever happened to being innocent until proven guilty?  There are too many anomalies here for Honey to ignore;  surely a couple of day’s investigation will throw up some answers.

            And that’s true, but the answers reveal so much more than she expected, not to mention her own foolhardiness and risk-taking persona.  Honey is action, not reflection, to her cost.

Gavin Strawhan has given us an endearing, Kiwi-As protagonist in a meticulously researched thriller about the Pacific drug trade.  And you’ll never guess WhoDunnit!  Book #3 is on its way – soon, I hope.  FIVE STARS.   

 

 

 

 

 

Wolf Hour, by Jo Nesbo.

 

          Vengeance can be a double-edged sword:  the satisfaction of paying back one’s nemesis can sometimes be spoilt by the fact that payback never seems to be enough, and in this case the Northern U.S. city of Minneapolis isn’t big enough to contain the many guilty who are to blame in some way or other for the death of one man’s family.  He wants them all to know the lacerating, unimaginable agony that he has endured for decades – he wants them, by his standards, to suffer.  As he has.

            The great Jo Nesbo has written a stand-alone novel about revenge and the quest for sufficient compensation by a man who will go to his death rather than give up his terrible quest and, as always, there are villains in every public law enforcement department, including police who have looked the other way for years so that their income can be bolstered.  Such a man is NOT Detective Bob Oz, a man who follows his own rules – which gets him into endless trouble with Bureaucracy – (currently he is suspended for insubordination);  he has several Out-There theories regarding the identity of this latest domestic terrorist, but as it turns out his theories are clever but don’t hit the jackpot. Besides, he’s suspended, so he’s not allowed anywhere near the investigation.

            Needless to say, Bob Oz is besieged on more than one front:  his marriage is over due to the tragic, preventable death of his little daughter, his wife has moved on with a new man and Bob has reached a personal low point in his life.  His only small pleasure is razzing the bartender Liza at Bernie’s Bar, and visiting a taxidermist (truly!) for some peaceful, tranquilising conversation.  At least the taxidermist has a good handle on how life should work (don’t we all) and their conversations pass the time and sooth his troubled spirit – until the next murder occurs, and the fact that his expertise is not required – or sought – is the red rag to Bob Oz’s Bull:  he’ll just have to go rogue.

            And so he does!  The suspense ratchets up unbearably and in ways so gruesome that I could hardly read each page;  Jo Nesbo has really outdone himself this time with tight plotting and characters so well-drawn they deserve a series themselves, but an added pleasure (after all the gore) is the wonderful dialogue between a craftsman dedicated to restoring peoples’ loved pet family members, and a washed-up, washed-out cop who has lost faith in everything.  JO NESBO RULES!  SIX STARS.  

     

                                                                                                                            

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Merge, by Grace Walker.

  

        This is a very disturbing story.  Disturbing because some of the reasons for ‘Merging’ are already painfully evident:  summer wildfires laying waste to various European countries; overpopulation and consequent food shortages and, at the novel’s beginning, a new ‘privileged’ class springing up in the UK called Combines:  you have to give up your seat on public transport for a Combine – and your house, accepting instead inferior accommodation – while it is still available – for Combines are part of a new world order designed to reduce the world population by ‘combining’ through a radical new scientific process:  two souls  transforming into one physical body – a healthy one!  All kinds of major diseases will disappear.

            Like Alzheimer’s disease, with which Amelia’s mother Laurie has been diagnosed – if Amelia and Laurie sign up for the Merge of their separate consciousness into one body, Laurie will be well again – except, except that Amelia’s boyfriend Albie is implacably against the whole idea, in fact he is an integral part of a very strong protest movement which is starting to receive a lot of publicity, but Amelia decides to go ahead with the probationary period – she wants her beloved mum back – and she’s perfectly placed to expose all those Combines if it turns out to be a huge scam.  Surely it’s a win-win situation?

            And it is, but for whom?  The other candidates for the Merge have endeared themselves to Laurie and Amelia, but they are all at different stages of thought about whether it’s the Right Thing to do, and one young reformed addict starts talking suicide – which changes the minds of Laurie and Amelia, who eventually find that their new opinion means nothing:  they are part of the Merge whether they like it or not.

First-time novelist Grace Walker has produced the Dystopian Novel par excellence:  her depiction of life in a world under pressure in the not-too-distant future is chilling and all too real, and the increasingly desperate measures that ordinary people are forced to consider so that they and their loved ones may stay alive are all too poignantly written.  There are no happy endings here, but justice may be done on the very last page.  SIX STARS.

 

 

 

 

The Retired Assassin”s Guide to Country Gardening,

By Naomi Kuttner.

 

Cozy Crime has now become a successful and popular genre – one that readers could tire of in time to come for its very predictability; the villains always get what’s coming to them, and there’s just the right amount of romance and twists in the plot to keep readers guessing.  And there’s nothing wrong with that so far, as retired MI6 Assassin Dante Reid decides to take early retirement and decides that a remote little town in New Zealand called Te Kohe is the ideal place in which to start a different life, the only snag being his reclusiveness and utter lack of sociability and the incontrovertible fact that Te Kohe is like every other small town anywhere:  it thrives on gossip, and the addition of a tall, handsome etc etc solo male with absolutely no social skills is more newsworthy than Donald Trump.

            Enter Charlie Wilson, a young gardener calling to find out what Dante would require from his services, which was tending to the former elderly occupant’s beautiful grounds and conservatory, where a Corpse plant will soon come into bloom (the Horticultural Society is mad with excitement!) and will require extra care.  An employment agreement of sorts is reached and Charlie is happy because he loves his job – but hasn’t been entirely honest with Dante:  he sees ghosts.

            All his young life Charlie has seen ghosts, usually the elderly of Te Kohe.  This has given him a reputation of talking to himself, which kind people dismiss as harmless eccentricity and the cruel make rude gestures involving screws loose but, having ‘lived’ with this phenomenon for so long, he has decided that his new employer needn’t be shocked by the supernatural this early  in the piece.  In any case, there’s going to be a big social occasion at Te Kohe’s poshest hotel very soon, everyone will be invited even though they don’t like the town’s richest man who’s paying for everything, including a massive fireworks display – he loves rubbing everyone’s nose in the fact that he’s a success and they aren’t, but hey!  He’s paying, and maybe a firework will go up his nose:  That would be something to see.

            And a murder does occur, which leads back to other, older crimes concerning Charlie’s family and the Town’s Richest Man:  how to prove that he’s not as clever as he thinks, particularly when Eleanor, a recent sophisticated and elegant recruit to Te Kohe’s Upper Echelons, decides to lend her considerable deductive talents to the mystery – ‘Helping the Police with Their Enquiries’ takes on all sorts of extra emphasis, especially when Charlie and Dante are both viewed as suspects and the police think they have a cast-iron case. 

            Fortunately for everyone’s nerves Ms Kuttner keeps all her ducks in a very clever row;  every i is dotted and t crossed so that we can prepare ourselves for the very next book in the series – which I hope will be soon;  despite blood and gore and ghosts, the main, best ingredient is humour:  this was seriously good fun.  FIVE STARS.     

  

 

The Human Scale, by Lawrence Wright.

 

 

            So.  On the human scale, who is worth more:  an Arab or a Jew?  An Arab who has farmed and nurtured his ancestral land for centuries in the same family, or recent Jewish migrants who want to buy the land and settle on it themselves – because God and their Zionist leaders told them they could. This is their Promised Land, and if those Arabs won’t give it up, then they’ll find other means of taking it, and all the worthless Palestinians can drown themselves in the sea. 

            And by the time that American-born Palestinian FBI Agent Tony Malik decides to attend a family wedding in Hebron and renew old ties and acquaintances as part of his convalescence (he was the only survivor of an attempt TO dismantle a bomb built by Hamas to blow up a Jordanian aircraft), he is in a pretty frail state, certainly not up to his usual professional expertise, which means he is entirely unprepared for the lack of action by police against the flagrant, everyday abuse that Palestinian Arabs endure – and their savage retaliations against such injustice (Palestinian boys are athletes of Olympian stature when it comes to throwing stones.)  And stealing!  He saw one wearing his hat when he had his rental car robbed;  the consequent pursuit ended up with him being arrested by the local cops and a very surly bunch they were, too.

            Tony’s visit has not started well, and he is appalled by the blatant criminality, the corruption that he sees on both sides of the spectrum;  it’s only after he proves his worth in exposing the worst of that corruption that he starts to gain some respect – until the local police chief is discovered cruelly murdered.   Bridegroom Jamal (nicknamed the Peacemaker) immediately goes on the run despite the fact that he is innocent: – he knows how justice works in Hebron:  it doesn’t work at all.

            Lawrence Wright has produced an extraordinary, exhaustive and brilliant story of hatred and enmity as old as civilisation itself; the conflict and animus will never end, especially when the I.D.F. carefully targets the apartment of a Gazan family who has given Jamal the Peacemaker shelter:  that fatal attack turns Peacemaker into Avenger, with predictable, awful results

            A reader of this fine book before me gave it a score of 10 out of 10. And how right they were.  Thank you Lawrence Wright, for showing us what everyone has ended up with for all their machinations:  a lifelong burden of grief.  SEVEN STARS.