When Eleanor Shearer was in her mid teens, she went to an exhibition that looked at the stories of slavery and the impact on later generations of black people. It made its mark on her; when she finished her university Masters, in which her thesis was about the case for reparations for the Caribbean, she thought back to her initial idea for fiction and realised she already had a lot of the research done for a novel. River Sing Me Home was the excellent result.

The story follows Rachel who, after the plantation owner announces slavery has been ended but then goes on to say how everyone has been mandated to work several more years (the British said newly freed people would need time to adjust to their freedom…), decides to make a run for it and succeeds in escaping. Now free, she is in a position to search for the five children who were taken from her and sold elsewhere. She has no idea how far she will have to go – she’s starting with Barbados where she lives – but she’ll move mountains if she has to.

River Sing Me Home is a novel of great strength, love, and motherhood, which looks at what it means to be free, exploring the question via some of the different options Caribbean slaves took.

Shearer’s development and general creation of the characters is very good. We of course focus most on Rachel who we come to understand early but are given more and more of as time goes on. We meet Nobody, a man who decides to stay travelling with Rachel and, through a couple of tailors, one of Rachel’s children who has a massive impact on the story.

Set in the Caribbean, the story moves through a couple of islands as well as the colony of British Guinea in South America. Whilst of course based on historical fact, and also Shearer’s familial knowledge, the focus on this area of the world allows for full use of the theme of water, which is explored by Shearer with aplomb.

To discuss the contents further risks spoiling the book – suffice to say it looks at different aspects and results of escape, staying and making do, and at the concept of passing. It also shines a light on the Native People who were forced out of their lands.

River Sing Me Home shows a part of history that isn’t much known in the west. Wonderfully told and both harrowing and heartening in equal measure, it’s an excellent and important publication that will hopefully be read by many readers to come.

Publisher: Headline Review (Hachette)
Pages: 365
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-472-29136-3
First Published: 31st January 2023
Date Reviewed: 18th August 2023

Alex Hay was washing the dishes when the premise of his debut started to come to him – the glamorous early twentieth century and a cunning plot to empty a grand house of its contents. The result works so well that washing dishes should probably be added to the list of writer tips.

Mrs King has been fired from her post as housekeeper having been found in the men’s quarters where women are not supposed to be. She leaves without much of a fuss (though she does remind Mr Shepherd that she has a nice set of knives) and later heads to the home of Mrs Bone, a deft criminal with plenty of people in her employ and a hand in many pies. Mrs King, a relative of the family whose house she administered, has a plan up her sleeve – an elaborate heist wherein the entire contents, every single item, of the de Vries mansion, is taken and sold for the benefit of those working with her. Miss de Vries is holding a ball, an inappropriate event given the recent death of her father, but to Mrs King the timing is perfect.

The Housekeepers is a spectacularly good debut, meticulously planned and executed. Hay has delivered the timeline brilliantly via the use of multiple narratives that switch between the characters ever quicker; you get a ringside seat to all the goings on. The pacing is excellent – the book sports zero filler scenes, it jumps straight into the plotting, and the heist begins a long way away from the last page; it’s thrilling from start to finish.

The multiple narratives here really work. Hay has a glowing cast of characters, mostly women, the vast majority from the working class. It is a real below stairs novel and the one character above stairs, Miss de Vries, has been included incredibly well. She is not there for the fun of it – she’s not there for laughter or mockery – instead she has her own subplot and a firm reason for being in the narrative.

The characters are well written; you get to know several of them very well in the context of the plot, a few more fairly well, and then the rest are in the backgrounding adding to the comedy. The main cast includes Mrs Bone who, like Mrs King, has her own fish to fry with the de Vries; Winnie – housekeeper before Mrs King; Hephzibah – a former member of staff, now an actor who brings with her a whole troop of others to great comedic and mayhem-ic effect; and a couple of young women who may or may not both be called Jane.

The writing itself is of particular note. (Okay, I know, I’ve technically been writing about the writing for four paragraphs now.) There is a uniqueness to it that’s difficult to define exactly but wonderful to witness. It’s in Hay’s characterisation and more so in his dialogue. It lends a certain Dickensian atmosphere to the novel that is nevertheless not at all belonging to Dickens and is in fact Hay’s own.

There is a very strong ‘why’ to The Housekeepers that is more than the literal relative reasons and which balances out the humour and brings a dose of reality to it. It’s dark and grounding – any more description will be too much information.

The ending is fab, everything you come to want from the book happens but Hay also leaves a poignant moment to think about which may or may not be considered an untied thread – it absolutely works.

The Housekeepers is being lauded, has been optioned for adaptation, and there’s every reason for it. This is an exceptional novel in every way and I for one am very much looking forward to seeing what Alex Hay produces next.

Publisher: Headline Review
Pages: 391
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-035-40664-7
First Published: 4th July 2023
Date Reviewed: 13th June 2023

I received this book for the purposes of a podcast which has gone ahead and will be published in September.

Kristina McMorris’ 2018 novel, Sold On A Monday, just recently reached the 1 million mark of copies sold. It’s not difficult to see why, nor why it’s the author’s most rated book on GoodReads – inspired by a real photograph taken in 1948 of children sat on a porch, a sign saying ‘4 children for sale’ in front of them, it offers a rather unique premise.

McMorris sets her tale in 1931, and her fictional photograph sports two children rather than the four seen in real life. Ellis, a photographer and reporter in Philadelphia, originally sees two children ‘for sale’ on a non-work related trip out and, when his photograph of the scene is lost after having been shown to an appreciative boss, he goes back to the location and stages a new photograph, this time with different children. This may or may not lead to Ellis’ big break – he’s been wanting to be more than a society pages writer for ages – but it will definitely lead to the contents of this new, staged, photograph, becoming a reality. In tandem we have Lily, a single mother who is hoping to rise beyond her current station of secretary, to become a reporter. Lily is the person who introduced the boss to Ellis’ work.

McMorris’ decision to focus on Ellis and Lily’s experiences may be surprising (certainly I was expecting the story to focus on the children from the perspective of those children) but it is nevertheless a fascinating decision. Hailing from a media background herself, McMorris has steeped the book in the world of the newspaper and the historical details and storytelling in general mean it is rich in atmosphere and period dialogue. Interestingly, the book is pretty long, with lots of twists and turns as it moves towards its conclusion, but thanks to the overarching idea of the news, the busy nature of it all ensures the book never drags.

The main characters are well drawn, with both characters effectively sharing the theme of family; Lily’s has motherhood included. Ellis is driven in his career not just for his own benefit but to prove to his father his worth as a son. Lily is driven similarly, wanting to be a reporter for herself but also seeing the need to better her situation for her son; her parents own a business but this is the post-WWI 1930s and she wants her own career; she sees a role model in Nellie Bly, the (factual) journalist who emulated Phileas Fogg.

Another character in particular deserves a mention – Clayton. He is a star reporter at the Philadelphia paper and McMorris has done a splendid job in her portrayal of him. It’s not even a question of character development, just the way she’s written about him each time he is either in a scene or mentioned by others (generally Lily). Is he friend or foe? Is he the right choice or not? In the plot thread he is most included in, McMorris does a great job at really making you believe something is possible even when common sense and any experience in reading will tell you it’s not, and whether or not it does happen (I won’t spoil it) doesn’t, to that end, really matter. A brief mention should be given to co-worker ‘Dutch’, who also defies literary stereotypes, just to a much lesser extent than Clayton.

So to those twists and turns, as said, there are a lot of them but they work. After a chunk of time spent focusing on Ellis and Lily, McMorris moves on to the children, albeit still through Ellis and Lily’s eyes. It’s worth noting that McMorris has significantly improved the outcome of the major event when compared to the real life story – thankfully, it must be said; read the reality and McMorris’ tale is a welcome change. The twists and turns themselves keep coming to a degree but they always move the story on, and, perhaps, given what I’ve said about Clayton, one of McMorris’ overall aims is to show the grey in every story; you very often think you’ve spied a villain only to be given cause to wonder if that’s quite correct.

Sold On A Monday tells a difficult tale in a very good way. Its secondary focus on family and motherhood is rather wonderful and helps in the exploration of the primary idea, while never losing sight of the historical context. This is a fantastic book.

Publisher: Sourcebooks
Pages: 289
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-492-66399-7
First Published: 28th August 2018
Date Reviewed: 2nd May 2023

Lisa See made a discovery during lockdown. As she was walking past her bookcase, she noticed a particular book she hadn’t yet read, a book about pregnancy and childbirth in Ming dynasty China; it included a woman doctor called Tan Yunxian and when See read about her she knew what she wanted to write about next¹.

In Lady Tan’s Circle Of Women, See uses as a base what history tells us about Tan Yunxian, and fills the rest in with appropriate fictional detail. Having a list of cases, a small slither of information about Yunxian’s grandmother (also a doctor), and brief details from the Lady’s great-nephew who republished the book in the late 1500s, See weaves a story of a woman from a wealthy background who learns how to treat women for conditions often confined to women’s bodies, going above and beyond what a male doctor could do due. In creating her narrative, See takes Yunxian to situations that you will have to read the book to find out (it’s far too satisfying to spoil), and looks at a few closely-related aspects of life for wealthy women in medieval China.

One of these is the isolation that came with being a wealthy woman – being inside Yunxian’s head (the novel is told in a wonderful first person narrative) and See’s focus on the aspect, allows you to see the incredible downsides to such a social standing that you likely have at least some knowledge of already, here amplified to a near constant consideration. This is apt; Yunxian makes decisions always in the knowledge of what she can and can’t do, and what she can do isn’t very much. A woman in her position is a possession of men and her wants and needs are also controlled by senior women, such as her mother-in-law. See shows the restriction and limitation – as a child, Yunxian cannot leave her home. She will only leave the family compound when she marries, after which she will not leave her marital home. And then there is the fact that women who are wealthy, or who are not wealthy but destined to be bought as a concubine, must have their feet bound in order to please their future husbands, which makes the women literally unable to run. These considerations and thoughts See compares to the lives of poorer women, those with ‘big feet’, whose professions are often seen as dirty, but who can at least go wherever they want. Yunxian relies on ‘lesser’ women to give her a taste for what she is not allowed to see.

This, together with the first-person narrative, leaves a pronounced effect on the reader as you are essentially limited in your experience by the fact of being always in Yunxian’s head. But this is no bad thing; See uses this fact to remarkable effect, providing you with exactly what you have been wishing for as and when the appropriate time comes. You may well be able to close the book where Yunxian couldn’t change her life, but the unfolding of the story is highly pleasurable. Perhaps it’s not unexpected – See has been doing this writing thing for many years – but it’s no less fantastic when it happens.

This leads us to another aspect looked at closely – friendship and effective sisterhood. Yunxian makes a friend in childhood who is poor, which allows for both constant comparison of economic situations as they go through life, as well as the subject of jealousy. Jealousy has been included with a foundation of Chinese birth years – both Yunxian and her friend, Meiling, are Metal Snakes, creatures known for their stubbornness, conceitedness, but also their goodness, and See employs a variety of Metal Snake personality traits in the development of the two characters.

Sisterhood effectively extends to several other characters in the book. Lady Tan’s ‘circle of women’ includes, over various years, her grandmother, Meiling, Meiling’s mother, Miss Zhao (Yunxian’s father’s concubine), and Miss Chen (one of her father-in-law’s concubines). The lives of these women all add extra matter to the plot, which in turn leads to its epic atmosphere.

The world-building is rather electric. Yunxian’s world is so cloistered and yet there is never a dull moment, with See always keeping the days full of different conversations and the hustle and bustle of the household. You can feel the life of the household beyond the walls of any particular scene.

As said before, See gives the reader what they are after. This also applies to every question you may have and every plot thread that is begun; make no mistake, leave your question on the page and See will absolutely get back to you. No thread is ever left untied and the only things that are not completely explained are things that don’t really need to be explained.

Lady Tan’s Circle Of Women reminds us again of why Lisa See is so loved. It is another story brilliantly planned and written, an absolute joy to read despite the pain it may cause at times, and a great introduction for new audiences to a woman whose work still influences Chinese medicine today.

Publisher: Scribner (Simon & Schuster)
Pages: 339
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-982-11708-5
First Published: 6th June 2023
Date Reviewed: 30th March 2023

I received this book from the author and publisher in preparation for a podcast recording.

Footnotes

¹ Library Journal (15th March 2023) “New York Times Bestselling Author Lisa See Discusses Her New Novel Lady Tan’s Circle of Women”, accessed 30th March 2023

Publisher: Gallery Books (Simon & Schuster)
Pages: 356
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-982-15893-4
First Published: 6th July 2021
Date Reviewed: 10th August 2022

Yona was raised by Jerusza in forests in central and eastern Europe; at twenty, Yona knows how to survive. With war beginning, she comes across a girl in the woods who has been injured; the girl is Jewish and, once better, she leads Yona to her parents, the three of them escapees from a ghetto established by the Nazis. Yona has always been alone and not lived in a society, but this is the start of years spent helping others to survive against the odds.

The Forest Of Vanishing Stars is a wonderfully told story of bravery amongst awful circumstances. Told with care, Harmel presents a story grounded in true history, showing a situation not often covered.

The history is that of over a thousand Jews who survived the war by hiding and learning to live in a forest, people who escaped death and banded together. Harmel takes the concept as her basis and includes the group as reference, creating a different, smaller group effectively led by her fictional resident of the forest, Yona.

It is Yona who makes the fiction. Taken from her German parents by an old woman with a sixth sense who sees a bad future for the then toddler if she’s left there, Yona grows up with an effective mystic who teaches her everything about survival but doesn’t stop her from learning about the outside world, just from living in it. Yona can speak many languages, can read, and knows about religion and history. She also knows how to kill.

This all means that the majority of the book takes place in the forest and Harmel does well in keeping you reading, knowing when to change things up. The fiction she weaves around the history is compelling and, when appropriate, satisfying. And Harmel tells you everything no matter how horrible – this book has one of the worst scenes of death in WW2 books I’ve read so far.

Harmel’s success, then, lies not only in the telling of her story but in the specific choices she makes. There are moments that seem very fictional but you never need to suspend your belief for them to work, however little the odds were of them happening. And the author’s care in itself, as an element on its own even, is also a big reason for the success.

Whilst the plot is inevitably highly important, character development is more so. You see the individuals, always, and you see the very human thoughts and impulses that go on even in survival mode. And again, Harmel’s dedication to her relatively small group of primary characters helps make this novel as good as it is. Whilst things do come to a head at points, and there is some spillover into the wider world, that is still small, and the vast majority of the book concerns the group living away from the war itself, in it but also outside it.

The ending is potentially a surprise depending on your own reading of the book. Either way, it provides a very suitable conclusion to the entirety. There are ‘big’ heroes and ‘small’ heroes and all help the whole.

The Forest Of Vanishing Stars is excellent. It pulls at your emotions, it involves fascinating history, it delivers satisfaction, and it’s written beautifully.